Zeke Yeager was impatient. Every moment spent here was a moment wasted away from the frontlines of the war outside the island.
His objective was simple — retrieve the Founding Titan and return to Marley as quickly as possible. What he didn't realize was that he and his team had already been discovered days ago.
From the vantage towers of Wall Maria, the improved telescopes—designed by Hanji Zoe's research unit—had already caught sight of them.
And the fact that Zeke chose to advance from the same route Reiner once used years ago? That was a fatal mistake.
To Lock, it was not just reckless. It was disrespectful.
There is always a price for underestimation.
---
"All the suspects have been captured and detained. Nine hundred and sixty-seven in total," Petra Rall reported crisply, though fatigue traced faint shadows beneath her eyes. "During the arrests, thirty-two resisted. All were executed on the spot."
Lock leaned back slightly, his tone calm but carrying quiet weight.
"You've done well, Petra. It couldn't have been easy."
Petra gave a faint smile, brushing a lock of auburn hair from her face. "It's not hard, Commander. Once this is over, the island will finally have a chance to breathe. Every sleepless night will be worth it."
Lock nodded slowly. "Nearly a thousand reactionaries... if they'd managed to seize weapons, we'd have been looking at civil war. The price we paid is nothing compared to that."
He paused, his voice lowering as his gaze fell to the reports stacked before him. "Now that they're all in custody, the rest will think twice before stirring. I imagine the others hiding within the city won't dare move for a while."
Petra frowned slightly. "Most likely. But those who remain won't vanish forever. They'll simply burrow deeper. If we let them regroup, they'll strike again when we least expect it. Commander, I think we should continue the investigations—root them all out before they have a chance to recover."
There was a sharp light in her eyes. Petra had always been gentle with her comrades, but when it came to the enemies of humanity, she showed no hesitation.
Lock studied her for a moment. "...You're not wrong," he admitted. "But not now. We'll station intelligence units to keep them under surveillance. For the moment, our focus must shift outward."
"Outward?" Petra asked.
"Yes." Lock's eyes hardened. "It's time to guide the people beyond the Walls—toward the future we've been preparing for. Paradis Island has slept long enough. We must begin rebuilding it, cultivating its land, and forging new strength. The purge has served its purpose; continuing it on this scale would only drain our limited resources."
He gestured at the map spread across the desk—marked with inked routes, planned settlements, and guarded zones stretching from Wall Maria to the outer coastlines.
"Our forces are finite, and our reforms are not yet complete. If we spread ourselves too thin, we risk collapse before we can stand."
After a long silence, Petra nodded, her expression softening. "I understand. Balance before ambition."
Lock offered a small smile. "Exactly."
But Petra's heart was in turmoil. Every decision he made seemed so composed, so precise—like someone who had already lived a hundred years and learned the cost of every action.
He was fifteen. Just fifteen. Yet his presence filled the room more than any general's ever could.
And as Petra looked at him, a quiet, dangerous realization began to grow in her chest.
When a woman starts to admire a man beyond reason, she's already begun to fall.
Lock didn't notice the look in her eyes. He was already turning the conversation elsewhere.
"How's Hanji's progress?" he asked suddenly.
Petra sighed. "Still buried in her lab, I imagine. I visited twice—she didn't even hear me knock. Whatever she's working on, it's consuming her completely. But from what I can tell, she's... very happy."
That last part was half annoyance, half genuine fondness.
Lock's brows lifted in amusement. "Good. Let her be. If she's that focused, it means progress."
He stood, stretching lightly. "And me? I suppose I have nothing urgent on the schedule today?"
Petra crossed her arms, feigning anger. "Nothing you have to do, no. But Ymir, Historia, and I have been handling every report, every deployment, every damn letter that crosses your desk. At this point, you're not the Commander—you're a ghost with authority!"
Lock chuckled. "A ghost, hmm? I'll remember that."
"Don't you dare—!"
Before she could finish, he was already walking toward the door. "I'll visit Hanji's lab. The rest is in your hands."
"Commander—!"
Too late. The door shut behind him.
Petra puffed her cheeks in frustration, muttering, "He always does this..."
Her irritation only lasted a few seconds before it melted into a smile. Despite her complaints, she knew what this meant: Lock trusted her completely.
No one else in the Corps had ever held that level of confidence from him.
The guards by the doorway pretended not to notice her flushed expression, their eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling—faces frozen in carefully rehearsed neutrality. None dared smile.
---
Lock's reforms had reshaped Paradis from the inside out.
The Survey Corps, once ridiculed and underfunded, now stood as the most prestigious and well-equipped branch in the military.
With the integration of experimental weaponry, tactical command schools, and strict promotion systems, its ranks had grown to over 3,000 trained soldiers — all volunteers, all driven by purpose.
The Garrison Corps, formerly bloated with corruption and laziness, had been cut down from forty thousand to thirty thousand.
Those unfit for service — drunkards, cowards, or bribed officers — were dismissed. In their place rose young recruits from the Training Corps, eager and unafraid.
It was a harsh system.
Every quarter, ten assessments determined a soldier's value. Promotions were based solely on merit. Failures were expelled.
At first, many feared it would destroy morale.
Instead, it ignited it.
For the first time in history, ordinary soldiers had hope of rising through ranks, not through politics or family, but through skill and courage.
The Military Police Brigade, once confined to Wall Sina, had also expanded. Under Erwin Smith's command, its reach now extended across all three Walls—Maria, Rose, and Sina—tasked with maintaining order and protecting civilians in the newly reclaimed territories.
Its numbers grew from two thousand to thirty-five hundred, reinforced by the best graduates from the Training Corps.
The administrative burden was immense.
But with the chain of command reorganized, the once-separate branches now worked like parts of a single body—one nation under a single vision.
Lock's vision.
---
Lock found the laboratory door half-open, steam and light pouring out through the gap.
Inside, Hanji Zoe was hunched over a large glass cylinder filled with clear liquid, her hands covered in grease, her hair a tangled mess. Blueprints and Titan nerve diagrams littered the tables around her.
"Hanji," Lock called softly.
She looked up sharply, her eyes bright and wild. "Lock! Just in time! You won't believe what I've just confirmed!"
He smiled. "I'm already afraid."
Hanji pointed to the massive device beside her. "It's working. The nerve synchronization unit. With this, we can transmit controlled impulses through concentrated spinal fluid—it could allow humans to command Pure Titans within a limited radius!"
Lock blinked, stunned. "You mean... artificial coordination?"
"Yes!" Hanji's grin widened, manic and proud. "Not quite what the Founding Titan can do, of course—but if we refine it further, we could control battlefield Titans like weapons, even without Dina's power."
Lock stared at the machine. Its potential was staggering—and terrifying.
After a long pause, he said quietly, "Keep this between us for now. If the others hear, they'll either panic... or try to use it too soon."
Hanji's smile faded slightly, understanding. "Right. I'll keep developing it quietly."
Lock nodded. "Good. We'll need every advantage we can get."
He turned toward the window, the faint glow of the afternoon sun falling across his face.
Far beyond the Wall, Maria, he could already sense it — the air shifting, the quiet tremor of something monstrous moving closer.
Marley was coming.
And this time, Paradis would be ready.
---
A/N: Advanced Chapters Have Been Uploaded On My Patreon
Support: patreon.com/Narrator_San