Day of the Incident.
One hour after the breach of Trost's outer gate.
Southern Wall Rose — Inner District.
Leon Estate.
"Pixis, are you mocking me?"
Ash Leon stared at the disastrous chess move across from him, faint irritation surfacing.
To many people's surprise, Ash Leon—once declared unlikely to survive long—had endured until the year 850.
And it seemed he might endure three more.
Many believed they knew why.
The Future Golden Lion.
Lately, Ash had invited acquaintances daily to play chess, taking every opportunity to boast about his son's achievements in the 104th Cadet Corps, grinning like a man decades younger.
Across from him, Dot Pixis rubbed his bald head and smiled faintly.
"Ah, old lion, I'm no match for you."
He lifted his empty cup.
Elise hurried forward, carefully pouring wine freshly brought from the estate cellar.
Ash snorted as Pixis drained it in one gulp.
"You're not here to play chess. You're here to drink."
"Aren't you the highest authority in the southern territories?"
"If you're this drunk, how are we supposed to entrust our lives to you?"
Pixis merely smiled.
Before he could respond—
A young soldier burst into the parlor.
"Report! Urgent message!"
Buffon instinctively positioned himself before Ash.
The soldier shouted:
"The Colossal Titan has appeared in Trost! The outer gate has been breached!"
Silence.
The room seemed to freeze.
Yet Pixis did not panic.
He rose slowly.
Holding out his cup toward Elise—whose hands trembled violently—he said gently,
"One more."
She poured.
He drank.
His adjutant stepped forward.
"Commander, the horses are ready."
Pixis accepted his uniform and turned.
"Old friend," he said lightly, "I'm going to war."
"Pixis!"
"Master—!" Buffon supported Ash as the frail lion gripped his wheelchair and, trembling, forced himself to stand.
"Pixis!"
His voice broke, but it carried the weight of command.
"My son…"
"Bring my son back."
"Pixis!"
…
Trost District.
Garrison Regiment Headquarters.
Kitz Weilman addressed the fully armed cadets with a hoarse voice.
"All personnel will assemble into your standard squad formations."
"You will operate under Garrison command, carrying out supply support, message relay, and Titan suppression."
"The Interception Squad will serve as the vanguard."
"The Training Corps will form the middle support line."
"The Elite Squad will secure the rear."
He paused.
Then, with visible strain, he delivered the truth.
"The Advance Squad has been annihilated."
"The outer gate is destroyed. Titans have entered the district."
Shock rippled through the room.
Except for Lock.
Except for the three Warriors.
Weilman continued, teeth clenched.
"The Armored Titan may appear at any moment and breach the inner gate."
"Prepare for the worst."
"There is only one objective—defend Wall Rose to the death."
"Desertion will be punished by execution."
"Dedicate your hearts to humanity!"
"Dismissed!"
The cadets saluted shakily.
"Dedicate our hearts!"
…
Some vomited.
Some collapsed.
Some trembled in corners.
Despair spread like wildfire.
"Why today…? We were supposed to join the Military Police tomorrow…"
Jean buried his face in his hands.
Behind him, Bertholdt's expression was unreadable.
Jean bumped into Eren.
They argued.
Eren won.
Mikasa intervened.
They argued again.
Eren won again.
Lock watched them depart in three directions.
He stepped out from behind a pillar and blocked Annie's path.
She looked up at his easy smile.
"You're awfully relaxed."
"I can't go to the front lines anyway," Lock replied casually.
"Even if I wanted to."
A faint regret lingered in his eyes—too genuine to be dismissed.
Annie hesitated.
"You're really… not afraid?"
Lock smiled.
"I don't think I was born with that emotion."
"Even if a Titan swallowed me whole, I doubt I'd feel fear."
He leaned closer.
"What about you?"
"You're heading for the Military Police. Jean's almost crying."
"But you're perfectly calm."
He lowered his voice.
"If you've been pretending, you can hide in my arms and cry."
"Like Hanna and Franz."
Out of the corner of her eye, Annie saw Reiner and Bertholdt watching from afar.
A female Garrison soldier approached.
"Leonhart. Time."
Lock raised a hand politely.
"Could we have a moment? We were meant to marry tomorrow."
The soldier hesitated.
"…Two minutes."
Annie moved to leave immediately.
Lock embraced her from behind.
His lips brushed her ear.
"Annie."
"I'm the only one on your side."
The soldier discreetly turned away.
"I know I was wrong."
"I won't ask for forgiveness."
"But I need one thing."
"Promise me…"
"Come back alive."
Annie's body trembled.
After a long moment, she removed his hands.
And walked away.
Reiner and Bertholdt followed from the shadows.
The sorrow drained from Lock's face.
In its place—
Hollowness.
He clicked his tongue softly.
Strangely, manipulating her emotions brought him no satisfaction.
Perhaps because it was Annie.
He stretched lazily.
The familiar smile returned.
He walked down the corridor lightly, almost cheerfully.
Amid the chaos and screams echoing through Trost—
Only his voice sounded eager.
"Time to find the next bit of fun."
---
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