Night settled heavily over the training grounds, pressing cool air against the stone walls of the mess hall. Lanterns hung from beams overhead, their warm light flickering across long wooden tables scarred by years of use. Bowls clattered, spoons scraped, and tired cadets ate with the dull focus of bodies pushed to their limits.
The smell of stew—thin but hot—filled the room.
Jean sat hunched forward, elbows on the table, chewing with obvious satisfaction. Across from him, Marco listened quietly, hands folded around his bowl, freckles standing out under the lantern light.
"I'm telling you," Jean said, lowering his voice just enough to sound important, "the Military Police is the smartest route. Top ten graduates get in. You live inside the inner walls—real beds, real food, no Titans breathing down your neck every day."
He smirked and tapped the table with his spoon. "And with my ODM control? I'll make top ten easy if I don't screw around."
Marco smiled faintly. "You really think efficiency alone is enough?"
Jean shrugged. "Efficiency keeps you alive. You don't waste gas, you don't panic, you don't die. Simple."
Marco considered that, then shook his head slightly. "I want to join the Military Police too. But not for comfort. Someone has to protect the King… and keep order inside the walls. If everyone just chases safety for themselves, nothing changes."
Jean blinked. "Huh. That's… surprisingly noble of you."
From a few seats down, a spoon paused midair.
Eren had been eating quietly—rare for him—but Jean's voice carried. Slowly, Eren turned his head, green eyes sharp.
"So that's it?" Eren snapped. "You train to kill Titans just so you can hide behind walls?"
Jean's chair scraped loudly as he stood.
Eren rose at the same time, the sound sharp against the stone floor. For a moment, the mess hall seemed to narrow—tables, cadets, noise all fading as the two faced each other across the table.
Jean's eyes narrowed. "Say that again."
Alex, a few seats away, paused mid-sip.
…Ah. There it is. Classic escalation curve. Took longer than expected, honestly.
Eren stepped forward and grabbed Jean by the front of his uniform, fingers biting into the fabric.
Alex leaned back slightly, eyes half-lidded.
Bold move. Bad timing. Emotional trigger fully engaged. Yep—this is gonna get physical.
People died so we could fight back—
The memory hit Eren without warning.
Fire. Screaming.
A hand slipping from his grasp.
His mother's face.
Alex felt the shift even before it showed.
…Oof. That's not just anger. That's trauma resurfacing. Kid's fighting ghosts, not Jean.
"I couldn't do anything," the thought crushed Eren's chest.
This is how I was back then. Before… and after.
"People died so we could fight back," Eren snarled, voice rougher now, "and you're proud of running away?"
Before Jean could react, a hand closed around Eren's wrist.
Mikasa.
Her grip was firm—not painful, but absolute.
Alex's eyebrow twitched.
Right on cue. Protector instinct. Zero hesitation. Yeah… that look alone's gonna set Jean off.
Eren stiffened, then turned slightly, eyes widening just a fraction as he met her gaze.
"Mikasa…?"
Jean saw it.
That hesitation. That concern.
Something inside him snapped.
His face twisted with anger as he grabbed Eren's shirt in return, yanking him closer.
"Don't look at her like that!" Jean barked. "What—afraid she'll get hurt if you start swinging?"
Alex sighed quietly through his nose.
…and there's the jealousy. Man, teenagers are exhausting.
Eren scoffed despite the tension. "Careful. If you pull any harder, this thing's gonna rip."
Jean lunged.
Eren moved on instinct.
Alex's eyes sharpened.
—Oh? That stance—
Eren shifted his foot, turned his body, hooked Jean's arm.
Annie's technique. Clean. Efficient.
Nice. Kid actually listens when trained.
In one sharp motion, Eren flipped Jean over the table's edge.
Jean hit the floor hard.
The mess hall erupted.
Alex straightened slightly, impressed despite himself.
…Huh. Didn't hesitate. Didn't overcommit. That'll save his life someday—if he lives long enough.
Eren stood over Jean, chest heaving—not shocked.
Focused.
"It worked," Eren realized. Annie's technique. I didn't even think.
"I'm not slacking off," Eren said tightly. "While you're talking about running, I'm learning how to fight."
Alex caught movement near the doors.
Ah. There's the adult supervision.
Keith Shadis stood outside.
Watching.
Alex stepped forward before the room could boil over again, hands in his pockets, voice calm.
"Hey."
Every eye flicked to him.
"You two wanna finish this," Alex said casually, tilting his head toward the door, "or do you wanna explain it to the instructor who's about to walk in?"
Perfect timing. Ten outta ten intervention.
Jean froze. Eren followed a heartbeat later.
Mikasa only released Eren's wrist once both grips loosened.
"Tch," Jean muttered, shoving Eren once before backing off. "Not worth it."
Eren exhaled sharply, anger settling into something heavier.
Resolve.
Alex stepped back, tension dissolving around him like mist.
Emotional teenagers. Predictable. Loud. Fragile egos everywhere. Still…
He glanced once at Eren.
…That flip? Yeah. Kid's growing faster than he realizes.
Alex smirked faintly.
This class is gonna be fun.
For better or worse.
Alright — here's the clean, natural continuation of that scene, kept in-character, manga-humor accurate, and with Gojo-style Alex reacting at the right moment. I'll blend it smoothly right after the tension breaks.
The mess hall hadn't fully recovered its noise when heavy footsteps approached the entrance.
The doors creaked open.
Keith Shadis stepped inside.
The temperature in the room dropped instantly.
Conversations died mid-sentence. Spoons froze halfway to mouths. Every cadet straightened like they'd been yanked by strings.
Shadis' sharp eyes swept the hall, landing immediately on the disheveled table, the spilled stew, and the two cadets standing a little too stiffly apart.
"Explain," Shadis said flatly. "What happened here."
Silence.
Jean swallowed.
Eren clenched his jaw.
Before either could open their mouths—
Mikasa spoke.
"It was Sasha," she said calmly. "She… farted."
Time stopped.
Sasha froze mid-chew.
"…Huh?"
Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened—then closed. No sound came out. She looked genuinely betrayed by reality itself.
"I— I didn't—!"
Shadis' gaze slid slowly toward Sasha Braus.
She stiffened under it, face going pale.
"…You," Shadis said. "Again."
Sasha visibly deflated.
"Yes, sir…" she whispered, shoulders sagging.
Shadis snorted once, clearly uninterested. "Clean this mess up. If I hear another disturbance, you'll all be running till morning."
He turned and left as abruptly as he'd arrived, the doors slamming shut behind him.
For three full seconds—
No one moved.
Then—
A few cadets pressed hands to their mouths.
Someone snorted.
Connie's shoulders shook violently as he stared at the table.
Jean bit his lip hard, face red, refusing to look at anyone.
Eren blinked, then slowly turned toward Mikasa.
"…That was a lie," he muttered.
Mikasa nodded once. "Yes."
And that's when—
Alex lost it.
He clapped a hand over his mouth, shoulders trembling, then burst into quiet laughter, eyes shining.
"Oh wow," he whispered, grinning. "Flawless execution. Zero hesitation. Absolute menace."
He leaned closer to Mikasa, voice low but impressed.
"Respect. That was tactical genius."
Mikasa didn't react. She simply sat back down and picked up her bowl.
Behind her, Sasha finally recovered enough to march over, face flushed with outrage.
"Mikasa!" Sasha hissed. "Why would you— I didn't even—!"
Before she could finish, Mikasa calmly lifted a piece of bread and pressed it into Sasha's open mouth.
Sasha froze again.
Chewing slowly, eyes wide.
"…Mm."
Mikasa withdrew her hand. "Eat."
Sasha swallowed.
"…Okay."
Alex laughed again, this time openly, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.
This class is doomed, he thought happily. Absolutely doomed.
And somehow—
That only made it better.
Night — Quiet Choices
Night settled over the barracks, the noise of the day finally thinning into low murmurs and tired breathing. Outside, the wind brushed against the buildings, carrying the distant silence of the walls.
Alex lay back on his bunk, one arm tucked behind his head, staring at the ceiling.
Three paths.
The Garrison Regiment—guarding the walls. Routine. Predictable. Safe. The Military Police—inner walls, clean uniforms, power, comfort. Safest of all. And the Scout Regiment—beyond the walls. Titans. Death rates that didn't bother hiding the truth.
Alex exhaled softly.
Classic choices. Safety, authority… or chaos with a cause.
In another world, the answer would've been obvious. Here? Still obvious—but heavier.
This body's weak. Power's sealed. No shortcuts. If I go outside the walls like this… it's gonna hurt.
A faint smile tugged at his lips anyway.
…Sounds fun.
Graduation Day — Rankings
The air buzzed with tension as the cadets stood in formation.
Names were called. Rankings announced.
When the list reached the top—
Rank 1: Alex
Rank 2: Mikasa Ackerman
Followed by Reiner Braun, Bertholdt Hoover, Annie Leonhart, and Eren Jaeger,Jean Kirstein...
A ripple of shock passed through the ranks.
Alex blinked once.
Huh. Guess effort still counts—even with nerfs.
Mikasa accepted her rank without expression. Reiner looked stunned. Annie indifferent. Eren clenched his fists, eyes burning with something deeper than pride.
They were all eligible for the Military Police.
That fact hung heavy.
That Night — Small Celebration
Later, in the barracks, a rare moment of celebration broke out. Someone produced stolen ingredients. Alex took one look and shrugged.
"I'll handle it."
Using what he could find—and what he remembered—he cooked something warm, simple, and oddly comforting. Not fancy. Just… real food.
Cadets laughed. Ate. Relaxed.
Sasha nearly cried. Connie asked if this counted as cheating. Jean suspiciously asked where Alex learned to cook.
"Long story," Alex said lightly.
For a moment, they were just teenagers.
Then someone asked the question.
"So… are you really joining the Scouts?"
Silence followed.
Eyes shifted—to Eren.
Eren's Choice
Eren stood.
Even ranked high enough for safety, his expression didn't waver.
"I'm joining the Scout Regiment."
Murmurs broke out instantly.
Eren's voice rose—not angry, but raw.
"If we hide behind walls, then everyone who died fighting Titans died for nothing. If we don't fight… then humanity doesn't move forward.
His fists shook.
"I won't let their sacrifices be meaningless."
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then Connie spoke. Hesitant. "If you're going… I'll think about it."
Sasha nodded. "Me too."
Mikasa stood without hesitation. "I'm going. I'll protect Eren."
Armin swallowed, then straightened. "I want to be useful… to humanity."
Eren's voice cracked then.
The memories surfaced—fire, screams, helplessness.
He turned sharply and walked out.
Outside
Cool night air greeted them as Mikasa and Armin followed. Alex trailed behind, hands in his pockets.
Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and Alex settled on the wide stone steps, the four of them a little removed from the rest of the barracks. Eren perched a few steps up, fists resting on his knees, jaw tight.
Mikasa was beside him, silent and steady as always. Armin crouched lower, hands wrapped around his knees, thinking too hard about too many things.
Alex leaned back against the stone, one arm behind his head, the other lazily tracing patterns on the step. His legs dangled over the edge. Perfect vantage point, he thought. Quiet enough to watch the rookies squirm, but I can see everything. Small improvements, big payoff.
He flexed lightly. Reflexes sharper. Endurance better. Teleportation drills in the dark, sprinting through the courtyard unseen, had pushed his body further than he expected. Not full power—never full power—but subtle enough that no one would guess. His muscles a little stronger, his movements a little faster. Secret's safe. Still fun to see them flail though.
Eren exhaled, voice low but firm. "Even though I could take the safe path… I can't. I won't."
His eyes drifted toward the distant walls, remembering his mother's screams, the Titans breaking through, the helplessness clawing back into him. I can't let that happen again. I have to do something.
Alex's eyes flicked to him, faint smirk tugging at his lips. Drama, idealism, rage… classic rookie mix. Entertaining as hell.
Mikasa reached for Eren's wrist, a quiet anchor. His eyes flicked to hers, worry flashing. I don't want her hurt—again.
Alex's head tilted slightly as he noticed movement at the edge of the shadows—a figure crouched, observing. Someone sneaking? Curious. Dangerous? Maybe. But they weren't doing anything. Not yet. Eh. Let them watch. Makes it more interesting.
Eren's fists clenched. "Scout Regiment. No matter the cost."
Alex swung a leg over, smirking. "Bold choice. Outside the walls, you adapt or get eaten. I like chaos with a hint of inevitability."
Eren raised an eyebrow. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," Alex replied casually, hands resting behind him. "Better reflexes, better endurance… small improvements no one notices. Keeps me alive, keeps my options open. Fun side effect: occasional satisfaction watching others panic."
Armin blinked. "So… you're joining the Scouts too?"
Alex shrugged, smirk still in place. "Guess I'll see how bad it can get. Might even teach them a thing or two about surviving when the walls don't save you."
Eren let out a short laugh, dry but genuine. "Figures."
Mikasa gave the faintest nod. No words needed. Calm, steady, unshakable as always.
Alex glanced at the shadows again, then let his gaze drift back to the others. Watching, waiting, probably thinking they're being sneaky. Cute. If they want to play, fine. I'll let them. Makes life more fun. Just… don't touch me.
The wind brushed past, carrying the faint scent of pine and wet stone. The four of them sat there in silence, different pasts, different fears, different motivations—but all facing the same impossible road ahead.
Alex exhaled lightly, letting a small, amused smirk linger. These rookies are loud, stubborn, reckless… and I'm improving quietly in the background. Perfect night. Perfect view. Perfect chaos.