The sound of hooves echoed through the early morning air, the rhythmic clopping a steady beat against the thick silence of the surrounding forest. The cadets, now on horseback, were led by Levi's squad as they rode toward the Scout Regiment's hidden base of operations. The tall trees and dense underbrush gave the area an eerie stillness, and the heavy mist that clung to the ground added to the oppressive atmosphere.
Mikasa rode silently beside Armin, her gaze never straying far from their surroundings. Her bandaged wrist was tucked firmly against her body, but the tension in her posture made it clear that she was ready for anything. Armin, though he tried to mask it, was clearly still shaken by what they had seen. His mind kept racing, replaying the sight of Eren being taken, the speed, the utter impossibility of it.
Jean, Sasha, and Connie kept to themselves, their unease hanging in the air as thick as the morning fog. Krista and Ymir exchanged quiet words as they followed along, both girls visibly concerned.
Levi's horse was at the front of the group, his back straight, his eyes scanning the horizon with practiced calm. He didn't seem to be affected by the somber mood hanging over them.
As they approached the clearing that would lead them to the base, the sound of the horses' hooves grew louder. The base of operations loomed ahead, a series of wooden and stone structures surrounded by high, reinforced walls, designed to withstand the harshest conditions and most dangerous of enemies. It felt like a fortress—and for the first time, the cadets truly understood why.
Inside the base, Erwin stood beside Hange, deep in discussion. The Commander's usual calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a look of deep concentration. He was leaning over a table, looking over a map of the surrounding regions, his fingers tracing possible routes and areas of interest. Hange, always animated, was speaking quickly, her hands moving in time with her words.
"We need to track every lead we can. We're dealing with something... unprecedented," Hange said, her voice tinged with urgency. "The speed, the way it moved—it's not like anything we've encountered before. I've combed through every myth and record we have, but there's nothing to indicate this kind of entity. It's too fast, too precise."
Erwin nodded, his brow furrowed as he scanned the map. "And if this thing can disappear as quickly as Levi described, then it's more than just an opponent. It's a threat we can't predict. Our next steps will be crucial. We can't afford to be caught off guard again."
"That's exactly why we need to find out what it is, Erwin," Hange insisted, her voice sharp with frustration. "The more we know, the better we can prepare. We have to study whatever this thing was, figure out how it operates. Otherwise, we're just waiting to be wiped out by something we don't understand."
Erwin took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing. "I agree. But time is against us. We can't afford to wait for another strike." His gaze lifted as the door to the room opened, and Levi stepped in, his expression grim as always.
Behind him, the group of cadets entered the room, their faces a mixture of determination and uncertainty. Levi didn't wait for any formalities. He went straight to the table, leaning down to study the map alongside Erwin.
"The cadets are ready," Levi said, his voice quiet but commanding. "We're heading out immediately to track any sign of the creature. They'll need to be prepared for anything. The quicker we move, the better."
Erwin's eyes shifted to the cadets, who stood in a loose formation at the doorway, waiting for instructions. There was a palpable sense of anticipation in the air. These weren't just students anymore; they were soldiers, and Erwin could see it in their eyes.
"You heard Levi," Erwin said, his voice steady. "There's no time to waste. We need information—and we need it fast. Our priority is to locate any trace of this entity and understand its capabilities. Hange, I'll leave the analysis to you. Levi, you and your squad will oversee the search."
Hange nodded eagerly, but Erwin's gaze softened as he turned toward the cadets. "I know this is difficult, but you've all made your choice. You're here because you want to protect humanity. This mission is a dangerous one, but it's also the most important one we've faced. There's no turning back now."
Mikasa stood tall, her jaw set in determination. "We understand, Commander. We're ready."
Armin followed suit, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. "We'll find Eren. We'll bring him back."
Jean, his usual bravado replaced by a sense of purpose, nodded in agreement. "Let's get this over with."
Sasha gave a quiet nod, her hand gripping the reins of her horse tighter. "We'll do whatever it takes."
Krista and Ymir exchanged a brief look before Ymir spoke up, her voice steady and clear. "No matter what we face, we move forward together."
Erwin's expression softened slightly as he gave a small nod. "Then go. But remember—this is no longer just a mission. It's a fight for our survival."
With that, the cadets followed Levi and his squad out of the room. The tension in the air was thick, but there was a shared sense of resolve between them. They mounted their horses, preparing for what was sure to be a long, dangerous journey.
The forest around them was alive with the sounds of nature, but there was no mistaking the heavy weight that had settled over the group. They weren't just tracking a mysterious creature anymore—they were hunting something that had the power to change everything.
And they would stop at nothing to find it.
The sun had long begun its descent by the time Levi's squad, the cadets, and Hange regrouped with the Garrison troops stationed near the Trost outer perimeter. The air was sharp with the scent of cold earth and horse sweat as the search parties fanned out. This was a joint operation, the Scouts leading the investigation but drawing on the Garrison's manpower and reach.
Among them was Hannes, donned in full gear despite his age, his expression more determined than the younger soldiers around him. The moment he spotted Mikasa and Armin, his face lit up—but the absence of a third figure quickly darkened it.
After brief introductions between the squads, Levi delegated the first round of sweeps and Hange began collecting witness statements and reports. Hannes found his chance and pulled Mikasa and Armin to the side, his voice low.
"Where's Eren?" he asked, eyes flicking between them. "He wasn't with you... is he okay?"
Mikasa stiffened, and Armin opened his mouth to speak—but before he could, Levi was there.
He moved like a shadow, sudden and silent. The glare he gave them was sharper than any blade.
"Whatever you're about to say," Levi said coldly, eyes fixed on Hannes, "is classified. If word spreads—by accident or otherwise—there will be consequences. Severe ones."
Hannes blinked, taken aback. He nodded, slowly. "Understood, Captain."
Levi turned to Mikasa and Armin next. "You two are under my authority. You may share classified intel with Hannes. Keep it brief. No dramatics."
With that, he was gone, vanishing back into the chaos of the ongoing search. The tension he left behind hung in the air like smoke.
Mikasa and Armin exchanged a glance. Then, with quiet voices and grim expressions, they told Hannes everything—how Eren had vanished, how something had taken him, something neither Titan nor human. They told him of the speed, the power, the way it had appeared and disappeared like a phantom. Hannes listened in stunned silence.
That night, the cadets found themselves summoned to Erwin's office. The war table was cleared of maps this time, replaced with a single oil lantern casting long shadows on the walls. Hange sat in a corner, scribbling furiously in a notebook. Levi stood behind Erwin with arms crossed, saying nothing.
"You're here," Erwin began, "because you were closest to Eren. What I'm about to say does not leave this room."
The cadets exchanged uncertain glances as Erwin continued.
"There are things I suspect—things I believe the government has worked tirelessly to suppress. I think there is a truth behind the Titans, a truth buried so deep that anyone who approaches it... disappears."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"My father," he said, voice quieter now, "was one such man. He was a teacher—curious, careful, and intelligent. He had theories. He tried to share them. And one day, he never came home."
The silence in the room grew heavier.
"I believe what we're facing isn't just a battle against monsters outside the Walls... but monsters within them, too. And if that's true, then every secret matters. Every lie. Every fragment of truth."
He let the silence linger for a moment longer before nodding.
"You're dismissed."
But just as the cadets began to move, Reiner stepped forward.
"I have something," he said, fishing a small object from his pocket.
A key.
Mikasa and Armin froze.
"That's Eren's," Armin said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That's... that's a copy of his basement key."
Reiner nodded. "He gave it to me a while ago. Said he made it with spare funds from our cadet allowances. Said it was just in case—if something ever happened to him. He told me never to lose it."
Erwin stood slowly. "Did he ever tell you what it was for?"
Reiner shook his head. "Only that it was important. Something from his father."
Mikasa stepped forward, her voice steady. "The original key was from Eren's dad. It opens the basement in our house in Shiganshina. Eren believed... no, knew there were answers down there. About the Titans. About everything."
Erwin's eyes lit with something between curiosity and intensity. "That key," he said quietly, "may very well be our only real lead."
He turned to Reiner. "Eren trusted you enough to give you that. I won't question that trust. I'm putting it in your care until the time comes. Keep it safe. We may one day return to Shiganshina. And when we do... that key might change everything."
Reiner closed his fist around it and nodded.
And with that, the cadets left Erwin's office, hearts heavy but spirits sharpened.
Something was changing. They could feel it in the wind, hear it in the silence that followed them out into the night.
The war against the Titans had only ever been half the battle.
Deep within the inner sanctum of the Royal Capital, beneath the marble floors and gilded facades, a council gathered in shadow.
The room was low-lit, thick with the scent of expensive tobacco and old parchment. Rod Reiss sat at the head of the long table, his knuckles white against the polished wood. Around him were the true powers of the kingdom—the shadow government, the noble bloodlines, and the select few Military Police higher-ups who truly knew how fragile the illusion of peace really was.
A Military Police officer finished reading the report, his voice tight.
"...witnesses described the Titan as being distinctly similar to the one seen five years ago during the Fall of Wall Maria. Reports emphasize unmatched agility and aggression, but no known regeneration post-battle. Casualties remain high, and no body was recovered."
There was silence. Heavy. Suffocating.
Rod Reiss slammed a fist down onto the table. "Grisha."
His voice cracked through the room like a whip.
"The Attack Titan," he seethed, "held by that man. That butcher. You're telling me it's been seen again? After all these years?"
The others exchanged wary glances, none daring to speak over the rising fury in his tone.
"I saw it myself. In the reports. The musculature, the face—it matches the drawings we had burned! He's back—or someone like him! And we do not know where it went?!"
"It vanished, Lord Reiss," a younger noble dared to say. "Witnesses said it moved with such speed, even our scouts couldn't—"
"Then find it!" Rod roared, standing so abruptly his chair skidded across the marble. "Mobilize the Interior Military Police. Triple their funding. I want every informant, every shadow, every underground network turned upside down!"
He turned to the central figure at the far end of the table—an aged noble with dark robes and a face like cold granite.
"Seal every district. Silence every rumor. If that shifter is still within the Walls... we cannot allow it to reach the truth."
The old noble nodded once. "As you wish, Lord Reiss. But if this is the work of the Shifter who stole the Founding Titan from Frieda..."
Rod's eyes narrowed, wild with emotion.
"Then this is personal."
He sat again, slower this time, brushing a trembling hand over his mouth as though trying to cage the storm within him.
"We cannot allow the cycle to repeat. Not again."
Another figure spoke—this one cloaked and unnamed, a member of the King's personal secret order.
"If the Attack Titan has returned... it could mean one of two things," he said quietly. "Either Grisha Jaeger is somehow alive..."
"Or," another interjected, "he passed his Titan on to a new heir."
A chill swept through the chamber. Rod's gaze flicked to the shadows dancing on the far wall, cast by a flickering chandelier.
"Find them," he said again, more measured now. "Before they find it."
As the murmurs in the shadowed council chamber swelled again, one of the older councilmen, his voice gravelly with age and power, leaned forward and asked, "If we do locate the current wielder of the Attack Titan... then what? The Founding Titan's power was already taken. Who will inherit this one?"
The question hung in the air like a guillotine.
Rod Reiss stilled. For a moment, his eyes flickered—not with fear, but with calculation.
He could do it. He could become its inheritor. Reclaim what his family lost. Perhaps that was what Frieda would have wanted—
His thoughts paused. Frieda.
Rod's brow twitched as fragments of memory sparked behind his eyes. Her smile. Her defiance. Her constant disappearances, brief and untraceable... until he had the Military Police tail her.
That's when he learned of Historia.
A bastard child, born in secrecy and obscurity. And yet, Frieda had visited her. Time and again. Her visits had been warm, gentle. She read her stories. Brushed her hair. Hugged her.
A bond had been formed—one Rod had never sanctioned, never acknowledged. But now...
"...Historia," he whispered under his breath.
One of the councilmen leaned closer. "Pardon, Lord Reiss?"
Rod straightened, hands folded over his cane to still the tremor in his grip.
"If Grisha Jaeger passed the Attack Titan to another... and if that Titan was responsible for Frieda's death... then it stands to reason that the rightful course of action is justice," Rod said calmly, carefully. "And justice must be carried out... by the one most connected to her."
He glanced at the council. His voice lowered to a dark, silken tone.
"She had a sister. Hidden away. An illegitimate daughter... but still of royal blood. Historia."
There were a few shocked expressions, others curious. None objected.
"She's young. Unspoiled by the rot of court or war. Naive... but loyal, with proper guidance. If she can be molded—if she believes that the one who took her sister from her still lives..."
His voice trailed off, but his eyes gleamed.
"She could become the perfect vessel. A tool more loyal than even Frieda."
Another councilman nodded slowly. "You believe you can gain her trust?"
Rod smiled—tight-lipped and bitter. "She has no one else."
And with that, the gears of manipulation began to turn.