Gojo landed lightly near the jagged remains of the broken wall, ODM gear retracting. Three small Titans lay motionless on the cobblestones, steam rising from their severed napes. He had moved faster than human eyes could follow, slicing them down without hesitation.
The air stung with dust and blood. Broken stone crunched underfoot. He scanned the area with Six Eyes, every Titan, every shadow, every trembling cadet mapped in milliseconds.
Too many. Too close. If I don't do this now… it won't matter what anyone else does.
---
A memory flared behind his eyes.
Earlier, he had hovered above the rooftops, observing Mikasa and Armin moving cautiously, Titan-Eren smashing through enemies nearby. Jean and the cadets had vaulted toward the supply base, gas barely intact, cadets trembling under panic and responsibility.
They have to handle it. I can't risk anyone else seeing this. Not yet.
He remembered seeing Eren's Titan body move with raw instinct, saving civilians, protecting Armin. Alex had chosen to leave them for a moment. And Gojo—he had decided the same.
There's only one way to end this. Seal it. Put the barrier back. Finish it.
---
Present.
He crouched near the gaping tear in the wall, hands glowing faintly as he traced the air with precise gestures. Stones shifted, dust swirling as the barrier formed.
A sharp stab of pain surged through his skull. Blood spurted from his nose, dripping onto the cobblestones. His head throbbed.
Damn it… my body… always betrays me at the worst moment.
The barrier shimmered, pulsing faintly. It was nearly complete. Gojo cursed under his breath, pushing himself forward.
Then, before he could fully stabilize, his legs gave out.
He collapsed onto the debris, chest heaving, vision flickering. Pain lanced through him like shards of ice.
Figures… I'm alive. Still… safe.
He cursed his body again, brushing the blood from his nose. He could still see movement atop the rooftops: Mikasa, Armin, Jean. Cadets regrouping, talking. Titan-Eren moving below, smashing the other Titans.
They're alive… okay. Eren's watching them. Protecting them… that's good.
Exhaustion finally claimed him. His muscles loosened, pain dulled, and his vision blurred into darkness.
Time to recover… properly.
Gojo let himself fall fully into unconsciousness, breathing deep and slow. The barrier pulsed faintly around him, holding the city at bay.
Six Eyes dimmed. Titans roamed below. Cadets regrouped above. Titan-Eren rampaged in the streets.
Threads still hold… for now.
And in the quiet darkness of sleep, Gojo's body began to mend, readying him for what was still to come.
---
In the supply base loomed ahead, battered but standing. Smoke curled through jagged cracks in the walls, dust settling in thin shafts of sunlight. Cadets pressed themselves against overturned tables, shaking hands gripping weapons, eyes darting to every shadow.
Armin's mind raced, calculating every move. "If we use Eren… we can make this work," he murmured to Mikasa and Connie as they crouched behind a broken wall.
Mikasa's eyes narrowed, scanning the incoming Titans. "How exactly?"
Armin swallowed hard, voice low but determined. "We lure him toward the HQ. He fights the Titans crowding the building… that clears the way for the rest of us to refill our gas tanks and get out. But it's risky—he can't fight forever."
Connie's jaw tightened. "And if he can't… we're all dead."
"Better than waiting here to die anyway," Armin replied. His eyes flicked to Eren's Titan in the distance, smashing a pair of smaller Titans with brutal precision. Even in his monstrous form, there was intelligence, instinct guiding him to protect the humans.
Mikasa nodded once, hand tightening around her blade. "We move together. We stick close to him."
Inside the supply , Jean took a deep breath, surveying the chaos. Broken shelves, scattered supplies, and the occasional Titan body littered the floor. Small Titans—three, four meters tall—crawled toward them, their groans echoing off the walls.
Armin's hands shook slightly as he adjusted his straps, eyes darting over the seven 3-4 meter Titans scattered around the ground floor. "Alright," he said, voice firm but betraying a hint of nerves, "here's the plan. We blind them with the firearms, then the physically capable soldiers—everyone except the slightly less graceful among us—leap down and finish them."
Reiner, eyebrow raised, glanced at him. "Wait… how much do we actually know about this Titan?"
Armin gave him a tight-lipped smile. "After we're done here, we talk. Promise."
Reiner nodded, hands on his hips, as if conceding a bet he already lost. "Fine. But if this goes sideways, I'm reminding everyone that I warned you."
Jean rolled in a cart piled with old, rusted firearms, muttering, "I swear I didn't steal these… well, maybe a little…" He glanced at Armin. "And you think this will work?"
Armin swallowed. "…Yes. Probably. Hopefully."
Mikasa, standing beside him, gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "It' will work. Trust him."
Armin blinked, surprised. "…Thanks."
The cadets climbed into the lift, Reiner giving Conny a cheeky grin. "Remember: the second Titan's weak spot is… well…" He leaned close, whispering conspiratorially, "…up their ass."
Conny's face went red, and even Sasha snickered from the rafters above. Jean muttered under his breath, "I swear, sometimes I don't understand you people…"
The lift groaned and shuddered as it descended. Outside, the Titans stirred, sensing the humans moving below. The lift stopped, and Armin gave a quick nod.
"Now!" he shouted.
Gunfire erupted in a deafening volley. Titan eyes flared with pain, screaming silently in their monstrous way. Mikasa, Annie, Reiner, Bertholdt, Jean, Conny, and Sasha leapt from the rafters with synchronized precision. Blades cut, fists slammed, and the small Titans fell in a chaos of limbs, blood, and dust.
Sasha and Conny misjudged their landing. Titans grabbed them, but Mikasa and Annie pivoted mid-air, slicing their targets and pulling the pair free. Reiner clapped one hand to his chest, exhaling a dramatic sigh. "Annie's fine! Thank goodness. I'd have died if she got hurt. Or… maybe just cried."
Laughter mixed with shouts, adrenaline pumping through every vein. Even Jean allowed himself a half-smile, though his chest still pounded.
Once the room went quiet, cadets scrambled to refill gas tanks. Reiner leaned close to Armin, whispering, "Seriously… what's the deal with that Titan?"
Armin gave him a tight grin. "After this. I promise." Reiner nodded again, reluctantly content.
Jean slumped against a crate, wiping soot from his face. Marco leaned beside him, nudging him lightly. "You know," Marco said, grinning despite the chaos, "for a guy who's always whining, you're… actually not terrible at leading people."
Jean groaned. "I'm not leading! I'm just… surviving. Mostly."
"Yeah, sure," Marco teased. "But surviving and telling everyone where to go… that's leadership. Admit it."
"I… I don't know," Jean muttered, scratching the back of his neck. "I feel like a goat being chased by Titans most of the time."
Marco chuckled. "…That's because you are a goat. But a goat with potential."
Jean scowled. "…Great. Inspiring and insulting at the same time. Perfect combo."
The cadets finished refueling, hearts still hammering. They left the HQ, moving through streets littered with rubble, keeping low. Then a shadow fell across the street ahead.
Mikasa froze. Two Titans had pinned someone—or something—down.
Her pulse spiked. Without hesitation, she dashed forward, ODM cables snapping taut. "Eren!" she shouted, ignoring the distant protests of caution.
Jean grabbed her shoulder, yanking her back. "Wait! It's still a Titan!" he warned, worry flaring. "…You can't—"
She shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "I don't care!"
The Titans growled, muscles coiled, ready to crush. Armin's stomach turned to ice, eyes wide. He tried to shout a warning, but the roar of Titan fists smashing concrete drowned him out.
Meanwhile, Annie observed quietly from a higher rooftop, brow furrowed. "Still… it could be a potential ally," she muttered, eyes on the scene.
Then, Armin's gaze caught something terrifying and familiar: the Abnormal that had killed Thomas. His stomach dropped. "…That one…"
The rogue Titan lunged, fury driving every motion. Arms tore from its shoulders as it attacked, tearing the Abnormal apart with a brutal bite to the neck. It lifted the corpse-turned-weapon, smashing other Titans around it and sending one crashing through a house wall.
Jean squinted, jaw tight. "…Which one needed help?"
The Titan roared one last time, then collapsed. Dust swirled. Silence pressed down like a physical weight.
And then—movement.
From the Titan's nape, a figure emerged. Small. Human. Covered in blood and grime.
Eren. Unconscious. Alive.
Mikasa's heart seized. She sprinted to him, shaking him gently at first. "…Eren… you're alive…" Her hands pressed to his chest, searching for a heartbeat. Then—thump. Thump. Relief hit her like a tidal wave, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She collapsed against him, sobbing uncontrollably.
Armin, pale as a ghost, whispered, "…He's… really okay…"
Jean, watching from a distance, felt awe and fear mingle in his chest. Mikasa holding Eren, crying, the two of them alive—it was a weight of relief and disbelief he could barely process.
The streets were silent now, filled with the smell of smoke, dust, and the aftermath of destruction. For just a moment, hope had returned, fragile but real.
---
Alex's eyes fluttered open. The wind on his face, the ruins around him, the faint groans of Titans—everything was real again. But for a moment, the present dissolved, and memories he had buried deep surged forward.
He remembered being a boy with a life that had been simple, almost too easy. Warm mornings, laughter echoing through high walls, streets filled with color he didn't yet know he would lose. He had been clever, curious, loved—and then it was gone. Kidnapped, dragged into a world he didn't understand, a boy from the outside, left to navigate the strange, walled paradise by himself.
At first, the kidnappers had vanished, leaving him alone in that new world. The streets were foreign, the people wary. He learned quickly to survive. Begging, scavenging, avoiding notice. Over time, he made a small home among the ruins of forgotten buildings, helped by the kindness of strangers. A woman had given him food, clothes, warmth—and a reason to hope.
Hope… a dangerous thing.
The memory turned black in an instant. He saw her, her face frozen in terror, reaching for him as Titans poured through the walls, chaos devouring the streets. He had run then, faster than he ever thought possible, refusing to look back. Too late… it's already too late. I need to survive.
And so he had. He survived, hardened by hunger, fear, and loss. Each step forward had been a choice: survival over sentiment, movement over mourning. The boy who once played in sunlit streets had been replaced by someone who calculated danger as instinct, who read threats the way others read words.
His nose bled. He flexed his fingers, muscles aching from the barrier he had just erected, a headache like a hammer in his skull. But he was alive. Still breathing. Still seeing Mikasa, Armin, Jean—and the faint glimmer of hope that Eren was still fighting.
Alex swallowed. The storm around him roared back into focus. Smoke, rubble, Titans, cadets—the present demanded action. He rose slowly, lifting his head, letting the memories fade but leaving the lessons carved deep into him.
He was no longer the boy who had been happy in the world outside. That
world had ended. But he was here, and now, he had a purpose: survival, protection, and a relentless drive to see another day.
And with that thought, Alex ___ Gojo woke up .