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Chapter Text

YEAR 900

PARADIS, ELDIAN EMPIRE

It was a bright and beautiful day. The sun rose early over the island. Her golden rays cascaded over every district—Maria, Rose, Sina—with the warmth of a mother‘s embrace. There was naught but the faintest traces of clouds in the azure sky. A light breeze, too, swept through the island. It was gentle enough that a lady‘s hat would stay firmly on her head, but it rustled the leaves in the forests and bowed the grasses and wildflowers in the meadows.

The wind carried the wildflowers’ essence as it went. Steadily and surely it flowed through the hazel groves and the Heiden, across the rushing rivers and the burbling Bäche, and past the gates and walls of the Dörfer and cities. Then it laced its fingers through every bakery and butcher, every street and alley, until it had infiltrated every single settlement in the island with the simple, sweet smell of cleanliness and fresh flowers.

The Paradiens awoke to the heavenly aroma of wildflower perfume. It was as if a spell had enchanted them all. Many a housewife went about her duties with a smile on her face. Many a man walked to the Marktplatz with a stride in his step. Children across the island raced into the streets, Semmeln clutched firmly in their pudgy hands. The people felt much more alive than usual. And for that moment, the island finally felt like paradise.

A group of travelers approaching Ehrmich town did not fail to notice the change in the air.

"Boah." A woman sniffed. “Isn’t that pleasant?”

“Very,” her compatriot agreed. He adjusted the bouquets that he held in his hands. “I knew these were fresh, but Herr Havertz outdid himself this time!”

“Those aren’t your flowers,” a young girl giggled. She couldn’t have been much older than ten. She had the woman’s blond hair and eyes as blue as the heavens. 

“Heidi,” the woman scolded. “What others could they be?”

“She’s right.”

The man, the woman, and Heidi turned.

An elderly figure stood alongside the group. They were stooped with age, and their face was so wrinkled that none could discern whether they were male or female. But their eyes, grave and grounded, were ageless. These eyes stared into the face of the woman. “Ach, Heda. Have you forgotten my lessons? That’s no scent of roses. It’s chicory we smell. From the Marienheiden.”

“Impossible.” The man laughed. “How can you tell?”

“I’m old, not senile.” A sound resembling a laugh left the elder’s throat. But then the light in their eyes dulled. “I had a…a friend, once, many, many years ago. She was very fond of those flowers.”

A silence filled the air.

“And you remember what they smelled like?” Heidi piped up. “From that long ago?”

“Heidi,” Heda warned.

“No, no.” The elder shook their head. “It’s quite fine. Yes, my Heidi.” They looked at the child with warmth. “I do remember. I would never let myself forget. Some things in life are so meaningful that they last you a lifetime. I couldn’t forget. Even if I tried.”

Heidi cocked her head. “Why?”

“Because it was important to my friend. And as my friend was important to me, what she valued, I value as well.” The elder smiled.

“You said was,” realized Heidi. “Why is that? Is she dead? How did she die?”

The elder faltered.

“Adelheid Loseke,” began Heda.

“Ach, Heda!” The elder snapped their gnarled fingers. “Let me speak. It is time she knows.”

“But she’s so young, she can’t…”

“You were not that old yourself. And it was the right time for you.” The elder reached towards Heda. They stroked her face with a withered hand. “Heda Loseke. My dear, dear daughter. I know you wish to protect me. But I do not need to be protected. Not now.”

“Protected?” Heidi asked. “From what?”

Heda and the elder stared at her.

“Heidi.” The elder took Heidi’s hand. “It is time for you to join me at the Rote Ecke.”

Heidi’s eyes widened. “It is?” She whipped her head toward her parents.

Heda sighed. “Yes, it’s time.”

“Yay!” Heidi wrenched herself free of the elder’s grasp. She sprinted toward the gates of Ehrmich. “It’s time! It’s time!”

The elder chuckled. “Ah, to be young again.”

“Are you sure about this?” Heda pursed her lips. “Do you think you can…”

“I know I can.” The elder nodded. “I am quite certain. You and Kaspar should go to Bäckhaus Schmid and buy our order. I trust you remember.“

Heda and the man nodded.

“I will take these, Kaspar.” The elder took the bouquets from the man’s hands. “And I will join Heidi at the Rote Ecke. Take your time with the Schmids. Heidi and I have much to speak about.”

Although the walls had been down for nearly fifty years, Paradis’s districts retained a distinct cultural divide. Maria stayed humble and rural, true to their roots, the elder noted, as they nodded at the Jägerists guarding the gates. Rose remained their least favorite district; the people there put on airs, still pretending that being different from the Marien people made them any better. But Sina…The figure put their hand on the gate‘s stones as they made their way into Ehrmich. Sina, too, had not changed. Richer than Maria and Rose, yet still possessing a warmth of heart that money could never purchase. There was a life to Sina, distinct and distinguished, that made returning as comfortable as pulling on a sweater in the heart of winter.

It was a bustling morning in Ehrmich. Brought to life by the fresh air, the people moved with life. Children raced through the streets with smiles as wide as their faces. Men shouted loudly as they walked to work or started their automobiles. Women could be seen through the windows, tidying the tables or hanging their washing on the window. It was almost too much for the elder to take in.

Then they saw Heidi‘s blonde curls far ahead. The girl raced toward the house on the corner.

The elder smiled. They moved fast as age allowed toward the girl. Finally, they reached her.

Heidi had long since reached the house. She leaned against the side of the red-tiled building. “We made it.”

“That we did.” The elder handed Heidi the bouquets. They then reached into a pocket at their waist and brought out a large, ornate key.

Heidi’s eyes widened.

“Step back.” The elder moved Heidi out of the way. They then stuck the key into the doorknob. Slowly, it turned. Once, twice…

…then the door opened.

Heidi ran past the figure into the house. She stared, wide-eyed. “Boah.”

“Boah,” the elder agreed. The sight was certainly one of wonder. It was like stepping into the past. No electrical lights hung on the walls—only the many windows lit the room. Ornate, patterned wallpaper, long out of fashion, hung on the walls. An elaborately carved staircase arched upstairs. Red velvet chairs sat on a Stohess patterned rug. A large fireplace sat in the corner of the room. Curios sat on the mantle.

It was just how the elderly person had left it, all those years ago.

Heidi ran to the fireplace. She lifted several items off the mantle. A brass clock, tarnished by age. A marble vase. A winged crest. A pair of glasses, twisted beyond repair, with one lens shattered and the other entirely missing. A faded child’s textbook entitled Our History From The Time We Fled The Titans Until 825. The oil painting of a stern-faced man—

The elder’s eyes widened. “Be careful with that!”

Heidi quickly set the painting down. She turned toward the elderly figure. “This is the Rote Ecke?” 

The elder couldn’t find the words to speak. Their mind was flooded. So many memories came to life at that moment—dancing across those wooden floors, trying not to step on her shoes, the smell of supper on the cast-iron stove, the rare laughter of the man in the painting, the bolo tie on the pillow—

The elder’s heart rose into their throat.

Heidi tilted her head.

“I…” The elder blinked away tears. “Yes.” They cleared their throat. “Welcome to the Rote Ecke…my old home, fifty years ago.”

“You lived here?”

The elder nodded. “I stayed here with three of my dearest friends…and some of the finest people I met. But not for long.” Their eyes darkened. “Not long at all.”

“What happened?”

“They died.” The words came out harsher than the elder meant. But it was the truth. “They all died in a single day. Only I was left. And so I return here, to our house, every year…the day that they died.”

Heidi’s eyes widened.

“It’s time you hear my story.” The elder placed a gnarled hand on Heidi’s shoulder. “The story of my life…our lives. How we were brought together, how we lived together…and how we were driven apart. It is a sad story. But there are some happy moments, too. It was the best time in my life, after all. But you must hear this story and know how these things came to pass, so that you never allow them to happen again.”

Heidi, wide-eyed, could only nod.

“Sit.” The elder gestured toward the velvet furniture. As the two sat down, the elderly person stared over Heidi’s shoulder at the mantle on the fireplace. Their eyes fixated on the portrait of the stern-faced man. The man with the blond hair and the bolo tie.

The elder closed their eyes.

Then they began. “Now, here is what you must remember—and remember, mind you.”

Heidi nodded.

“This is the story of four people–me and my three friends. One person is named Theo Schoeber. One is named Sisi Erhardt. One is named Beatrice Engel. One is named Erwin Smith.”

“Erwin Smith? The Erwin Smith?”

“Hush! These are the four people who lived in the Rote Ecke in the summer of 850. Of these four, three died in a single day. Why? How?  To understand why my friends all died while I alone lived, we must tell the stories of Theo, Sisi, Beatrice, and Erwin. They are long stories. They might not make sense at the beginning. But they will, trust me. And you are fortunate—they all begin the same day. In 845.”

“845?”

“Yes. 845.” The elderly figure stared past the painting, far into the direction of District Maria. “Fifty-five years ago, almost to the day. I remember it as if it were yesterday. It was a fine spring day in Shiganshina town. The air smelled of fresh bread that day. Birds sang in the sky. All were at peace that day, all but us four. But no one knew what the day had in store…”

Chapter Text

YEAR 845

SHIGANSHINA DISTRICT, WALL MARIA

It was indeed a fine spring day inside Wall Maria. The sun's rays were not yet as fierce as summer but were still warm enough to pierce through whatever winter still lingered in the Known World. The grass shone as green as Karoline’s emerald necklace. Baby rabbits hopped through fields of clover without a care in the world. Clouds drifted lazily overhead. It was a perfect day for a child to play. One could climb a tree and try to see into the Unknown World. One could swim in a mountain stream that ran ice-cold with snowmelt. One could even hop around in the fields as the rabbits did. The world that day was one of endless possibilities.

It was also a world of only one certainty.

That certainty, at least for Sisi Erhardt, was that she and her sisters would waste the day in Shiganshina town, preaching the Good Word of the Church Of The Walls.

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The fog hung low and thick outside of Wall Maria that day. Not even the sharpest of eyes could see more than four hundred meters ahead. The forests smelled of pine and fresh spruce buds. Erwin Smith took a breath to steady himself. He had found that the best way to steady his nerves.

Erwin would never admit to anyone that his nerves needed steadying. How many years had he been in the Scout Regiment? Nearly twenty by now–more than half of his life. He’d steadily risen the ranks from a lowly Scout to the right-hand man of the Commander himself. Erwin knew how to survive outside of the walls. He knew how to slaughter Titans before they saw him coming. He also knew how to avoid becoming a Titan’s Mittagessen. But all it took was one misplaced step, one misjudged move…or even one Titan that was more of a mystery than usual.

His horse let out a soft nicker.

Erwin gripped his reins. His stallion had survived the past seven years at Erwin’s side. The horse was as much of a veteran as Erwin. Erwin had even taken the liberty of naming his steed, so confident was he in the horse’s survival. Bucephalus, a name in one of his father’s old books. It fit him. Bucephalus was smart. Grounded. A natural survivor. He knew how to stay quiet and how to alert Erwin to danger.

A nicker was one such strategy.

Erwin peered through his green hood. His breath caught. Far ahead, a Titan meandered through the woods.

“Target spotted!” Erwin shouted.

“All soldiers!” Commander Shadis raised his voice louder than Erwin’s. “Prepare for battle!”

Erwin’s eyes hardened. The Scouts had all prepared themselves for this day. Commander Shadis had developed a new tactic to fight the Titans. Each squadron would split into five groups and attack the Titan as one. It made sense on paper. A Titan would have far more difficulty fending off a multi-pronged attack than it would a single attack.

But as Erwin and the other battle-hardened soldiers knew, what worked on paper didn’t always apply in practice.

The Titan had seen them. It lumbered toward the squadron.

“Four hundred meters to target!” Erwin shouted. “It’s coming this way!”

“As we practiced!” Commander Shadis raised his right arm. “We’ll be the decoys!”

“One hundred meters!” Erwin warned.

Commander Shadis nodded in recognition. “All soldiers, EDM gear! Now!”

The Scouts released their gear. Erwin pulled out his sword. He looked into Bucephalus’s eyes for a mere moment, silently willing the horse to die another day, before leaping into the air with his comrades. The feeling of flying never lost its thrill. It was almost great enough to forget that Erwin and his men could die at any moment. Almost.

“We strike at the same time from all sides!” Commander Shadis reminded his troops.

Erwin gritted his teeth. He aimed toward the Titan’s left arm. It was a risky spot, but most Titans seemed to favor their right arm. If Erwin calculated his movements properly, he and his men could avoid the Titan’s attack and make a good strike on the nape.

The group led by the hotshot soldier–what was his name again? Marek? Moritz? The names blended together when the average Scout lived two months–had decided to target the nape. Marek-Moritz grinned like the Teufel. His eyes were wide with bloodlust. He held up his right arm with the confidence of a commander. “Let’s teach this thing,” he roared, “the power of the human race!”

The Titan froze in its tracks.

And at that moment, Erwin realized the day would have only one outcome.

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It was a fine spring day in the bustling town of Shiganshina. The aroma of fresh-baked bread filled the air. Women haggled with the merchants over eggs and produce. Children laughed as they played in the streets. Birds circled over the walls overhead. Their sweet songs filled the sky.

How Theo Schoeber envied those birds.

“Let’s see, Herr Schoeber,” the tailor was telling Theo’s father. He held up a roll of fine red cloth. “Were you thinking this for the material?”

Matthias Schoeber shook his head. He was a stern, gruff man, with Theo’s dark hair and thick eyebrows. He was not a man to be crossed, and Theo saw the tailor shrink back at his father’s disapproval.

“Too festive.” Matthias took a step toward the tailor. “My son is not attending the carnival. He is to be wed!”

“Ah, yes, yes.” The tailor laughed nervously. “My mistake. How old is your boy?”

“Eighteen.”

“Yes, yes, he would be of age.” The tailor smiled at Theo. “I’m sure she’s a lovely girl.”

Matthias poked Theo in the back, as if he could see the glower on Theo’s face.

Theo forced a smile. “Yes, sir. She’s perfect.” He spat the word as if it were poison.

The tailor didn’t seem to notice. “Wonderful. I remember my wedding day. I wore a dark fabric…let’s see if I can find it now.” He held up a sheet. “Imported from Stohess in Wall Sina itself. It fits very well and is of the utmost quality. Your sons and grandsons could even wear it in the future.”

Theo felt as if he were to be sick.

Matthias Schoeber glared at Theo just then. It was a simple luck, but Theo knew his father well enough to know what he meant. You are to be wed to Louise Bracht, he meant, whether you like to or not.

Theo sighed.

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Sisi sighed.

She stood on the corner of the Marktplatz and a street that led towards some smaller shops. Her necklace of the Three Goddesses weighed almost as heavily as her thick black velvet gown did in the midday sun.

“Listen!” Her sister Karoline’s voice carried from the next street over. “These walls were made by the grace of God! God made these walls for us! No one may desecrate the good works of God!”

It took everything in Sisi not to roll her eyes. With her luck, Karoline or Pauline would catch her. Then she would have to repent to Pastor Nick and the Three Goddesses for not doing her part to protect their good works. Worse yet, her sisters would tell their mother of Sisi’s actions. Or their father.

Sisi shivered.

“No person may desecrate the walls!” Pauline called as she walked past. She rang a handbell in a futile attempt to get people to turn their eyes toward her. “Be he big or small! The Walls–” She locked eyes with Sisi at that moment.

Sisi started. “The walls are a gift from God!” She called. Her voice was strained and weak. “God built these walls for us! Give thanks to God for the walls! Do not destroy what God has made!”

Seemingly satisfied, Pauline went on her way.

Sisi exhaled, relieved. That was one dodged sword swipe. But there would surely be more to come. And Sisi was only so good at avoiding trouble.

If Anna Elisabeth Erhardt had learned anything in her fifteen years, it was that if anything could go wrong, it would.

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It had all gone wrong.

Erwin stared numbly at the ground beneath his feet. The Titan blood evaporated into nothingness. The young Scout’s blood did not.

It had been an ambush. The thick fog and tree cover had masked the arrival of a Titan army. By the time the Scouts noticed their presence, it was too late. The screams of the wounded and dying filled the air. The earth was damp with blood. Erwin saw himself as the hotshot Scout–what was his name, Moritz or Marek?--disappeared into a Titan’s gullet. A stream of blood and a single arm flew through the air.

Erwin and his Scouts had been luckier than the other regiments. Dieter Schwarz had directed them toward a rocky outcropping that provided some shelter from the Titans. Erwin tried his best to rescue the other Scouts, but there was only so much he could do. Scouts fell left and right, and there was only so much Erwin could do alone.

In the end, Erwin’s attack was forced to become a rescue operative. He and his regiment pulled as many Scouts as they could from harm’s way. They managed to save four Scouts. Only one of Erwin’s men was lost. Dieter had shoved Commander Shadis out of harm’s way, only to disappear into the Titan’s mouth himself.

Dieter was the only loss from Erwin’s regiment. Commander Shadis lost everyone.

And so Erwin stumbled through the forest, back toward the direction that the horses had been. Blood streamed from a gash above his eye. He felt numb. The expedition had started with such promise. Commander Shadis had been so assured in his plans. The odds had been in the Scouts' favor. And now...One hundred Scouts had left Shiganshina that morning, and how many remained? Twenty, if that?

He stepped on something hard.

Erwin looked down. His stomach dropped. A bloody arm lay at his feet. It must have been Moritz-Marek’s. The arm was likely all that remained of that fearless young man.

Erwin picked it up.

The sound of hooves drew closer. Erwin stood up as Bucephalus trotted toward him.

“Well done.” Erwin touched Bucephalus’s head with his free hand. He put Moritz-Marek’s arm on the horse’s back before mounting. “Let’s join the others.”

Bucephalus snorted.

As Erwin and Bucephalus joined what remained of the Scout Regiment, Erwin looked down at the arm. It was still oozing blood onto Bucephalus’s back. He would have to ask Commander Shadis for a cloth to wrap it in. A cloak of a fallen Scout would do. Moritz or Marek would have appreciated that.

Moses.

The name struck Erwin out of nowhere. Moses Braun, eighteen years old, from Shiganshina town. The only child of a widowed mother.

Erwin committed the name to memory.

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It was a sickening memory.

Theo could remember plain as day when he had heard the news. He had entered his family’s farmhouse on the outskirts of Wulfshausen, his face sweaty from a hard day’s labor in the fields. Then his father and mother called him to the table. It is time for you to be wed, his father had said.

We have made arrangements with the Bracht family, said Theo’s mother. You have been betrothed to their oldest daughter.

Theo had begged. Pleaded. He had even shouted. Theo had no objections to marriage, but he could not tolerate the idea of wedding Louise Bracht. He did see how the marriage appealed to his parents and the Brachts. Theo had known Louise his entire life. He was her elder by scarcely a month. Louise was a tall, plump girl with merry eyes and a crooked smile. She shared Theo’s love of books and the Good Word. She would make a fine wife to any man–anyone but Theo.

Theo hated her. He gave his parents the reasons why. Louise was hardly beautiful–her waist too thick, her nose as upturned as a swine snout, and her eyes weak. Worse yet was that Louise adored Theo. She had ever since they were small. Louise constantly followed Theo around like a shadow, keeping just enough distance. Rare were the occasions when she mustered the courage to speak to Theo. When she did, her voice was high-pitched, and she would laugh at anything Theo said. It drove Theo mad.

Theo would rather join the Scouts on their suicidal quests before he married Louise Bracht. He said as much to his parents.

Neither had listened. Theo was the only surviving child of Matthias and Catharina Schoeber. They needed to arrange a fine match to ensure their family’s future. There was none better than with the Brachts. Melchior Bracht farmed the fields that neighbored the Schoebers’. Margaretha Bracht’s weave work fetched a hefty sum in Shiganshina. The four Bracht children–Louise, Lothar, Lennart, and Lena–were all bright and well-bred. It was a fine match. And as the Good Word said, children were bound to honor their father and mother.

Theo's fate was set in stone. He was set to wed Louise Bracht in two days' time. His father and mother had brought him to Shiganshina for the tracht fitting. Theo’s mother would bake the marriage kuchen the following day. Then Theo and Louise would be married, and Theo’s life would be over.

He then heard the sound of trumpets.

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Sisi froze. She could not imagine what the sound could mean. However, it evidently meant something to the Shiganshina townfolk. Many bustled toward one of the city's two gates. The one that led to the Unknown World.

Only Pauline moved in the opposite direction.

“Pauline!” Sisi ran to her sister. “What’s going on?”

“The Scout Regiment is returning.” Pauline scoffed. Her gray eyes, usually so soft, were hardened in disgust. 

Sisi’s eyes widened. “The Scouts?”

“I saw them.” Karoline strode toward her sisters. She adjusted her necklace. “They’re heading through the gate. There can’t be more than fifty.”

“Another failed mission,” Pauline muttered.

Sisi barely processed what her sisters said. Her mind raced. The Scout Regiment–she had heard the stories her entire life. Those were the men and women who ventured beyond the Known World. They slew Titans and reclaimed land for humanity. They could fly through the air using special devices they wore at their hips. Pauline called them fools. Karoline deemed them heretics.

Sisi saw them as heroes.

Yet in all her years of life, Sisi had never been able to see the Scouts. The regiment never visited Walls Sina or Rose. Sisi was from Mitras in Sina, and her past missionary trips had only ever been to various villages in Rose. Sisi had prayed to see the Scouts on her first-ever excursion to Wall Maria. Praise be to the goddesses, they had listened!

“Elisabeth!”

Sisi started.

Pauline crossed her arms. “Have you been listening?”

Sisi shifted nervously on her feet.

“Anneliese, stay out of Sisi-land.” Karoline snapped her fingers. “Those people are not the heroes you think they are.”

“Aw–” Sisi began.

Pauline then grabbed Sisi’s arm.

“Boah! Let me go!”

“Words can only go so far.” Pauline marched Sisi toward the outside gate. Karoline trotted obediently behind. She clicked her tongue as a young man sprinted from an alley, nearly barging Karoline over in his haste. “The Scouts ruin what they touch. See for yourself what people the Scouts are. Then tell us whether they are still your heroes.”

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Theo seized the opportunity. “It’s the Scouts, Dad. May I see?”

“Go.” Matthias dismissively waved his hand. “See if you can find your mother out there.”

Theo didn’t need to be told twice. Or even once. He ran out of the tailor shop and down the street. He barely missed running into a group of girls as he ran. Theo would have stopped to apologize, as was his typical fashion, but he was sick of women and weddings. All Theo cared about was getting as far away as he could from his father. Then he could pretend that he could escape his fate.

A small crowd had gathered up ahead. Theo ran up behind him. 

“Shit!” A young boy, certainly too young to speak such a word, complained. “I can’t see squat!” He began jumping up and down in a vain attempt to see over the crowd.

A serious-faced girl nudged the boy toward a crate of horse feed. The boy climbed on top at once. His eyes widened in anticipation as the gate opened.

Theo couldn’t suppress his smile. He hoped that he would one day have a son. Louise owed him that much. He would be a fine boy, this son, with Theo’s dark hair and the same bright face as the boy on the crate. Theo tried to decide what to name him. It was the manner of Wulfshausen to name the eldest son after their father–Theo’s oldest brother had been named Matthias before he died in the cradle. But Theo would never force the name Theophilus upon any child. What, then, would be a good name? Theo had always liked the name Peter. Philipp was similar to Theophilus—that was another possibility.

The gate opened all the way. The Scouts marched into the town.

At least, what remained of them.

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Returning never became easier.

Erwin had lost track of how many he had made. It didn’t matter. Regardless of the location–Holst, Shiganshina, Quinta, or Hospental, the reception was always the same. Rows and rows of townspeople, some simply curious as to the day’s outcome, some searching for their loved ones among the survivors. Their cries of grief haunted Erwin’s sleep.

The people of Shiganshina had long adjusted to the mortality of Scout expeditions. They stared at the Scouts with hardened faces. “Another massacre,” Erwin heard one mutter.

“A hundred men left this morning,” a woman gasped. “There can't be more than twenty returning!”

Erwin had heard many such comments over the years. They never became any easier to bear.

Faces stood out in the crowd. An old woman, her face blanched as wool. A scowling man, shaking his fist. A wide-eyed girl with tears running down her dirty cheeks. A child on a stool, his face brightening as Erwin’s eyes met his.

Erwin turned his face away. The children were the worst. They worshipped the Scouts. They alone had faith in the Scouts' purpose. Yet the Scouts did naught but betray their trust.

No, this job never got any easier.

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Pauline forced Sisi’s eyes forward at the dejected group of Scouts. “Are these your heroes?”

Sisi couldn’t speak. She could only stare. The surviving Scouts were covered in dirt and blood from head to toe. Their eyes were wide and their faces pale. They resembled the geisten of Pauline's fairytales more than people.

A commanding figure rode past on a tall white horse. His eyes were firmly fixated ahead.

“Erwin’s regiment lived,” a man next to Sisi recognized.

“Is that a surprise? They always live!” his compatriot replied. 

“I think every man in his regiment lived. I can’t count anyone who’s missing.”

Sisi’s eyes widened.

“Make him the commander already. I can’t see why they haven’t done so yet!”

“Old Shadis probably has to die first.”

“Let him die,” the man muttered. “I’ll kill him myself!”

Sisi recoiled at the words.

“Now you see.” Pauline took Sisi’s hand. She and Karoline pulled Sisi away from the spectators. “These are the Scouts.”

“I can’t imagine why they haven’t learned their lesson," Karoline scoffed. "Whomever violates our goddesses' sanctity can no longer live. Such is the world, such has been the world.”

“Such will be the world,” Pauline agreed.

“Not Erwin’s men.” Sisi shook her head. “Didn’t you hear? Everyone died but Erwin’s regiment. If he becomes commander, everyone will live!”

“Elisabeth,” Pauline sighed.

“It’s true!” Sisi insisted. “You saw it yourselves! Everyone died except for Erwin’s Scouts. The goddesses favor him. It must be so!”

Pauline and Karoline exchanged an exasperated look.

Karoline stared at the sky. “Goddesses, help us.”

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God, help them, Theo prayed as he walked away from the Scouts. The outcome had been just as he expected. Only a fool would join the Scouts. Commander Shadis constantly led them into death traps. There had been a boy from Wulfshausen the past year, Gustav Redemann, who had joined the Scouts. His mother began digging his grave the day he left. There hadn’t been a need after all–only a foot was returned to the Redemann family.

Then he saw them.

Leaving a shop ahead were Theo’s mother, Louise’s parents, her brothers, and her sister. There was no trace of Louise. Yet the sight still made Theo’s blood freeze. If the rest of the Brachts were in Shiganshina, it was certain that Louise was as well.

Perhaps she was even watching him, then and there!

Theo stepped into a nearby side street and ran for his life. 

*************************************************************************************************************

Bucephalus nickered as he was led to his stable.

“You did well today,” Erwin told him. 

Levi Ackerman scoffed as he walked past. “He doesn’t understand you.”

“He doesn’t need to.” Erwin followed Levi. “He understands the meaning. That keeps him loyal.”

“Oats keep him loyal.”

“Don’t pretend you’re any better.” Erwin tucked his arms behind his back as Commander Shadis approached. “I saw you give Titan half of yesterday’s rations.”

“What’s it to you?” Levi muttered under his breath.

“Erwin.” Commander Shadis stopped in front of Erwin and Levi. His eyes were hollow and his face gaunt. He hadn’t even washed Dieter’s blood off his forehead yet. “A word.”

“Yes, Commander.” Erwin stood at attention. He wondered what Shadis had to say. Would he congratulate him for keeping his squad intact? Would he apologize for the loss of Dieter? Would the Scouts finally implement Erwin’s ideas? 

“Erwin…” Commander Shadis stared at the ground. “Would you take over as commander?”

Never in a thousand years would Erwin have expected those words. He stared at Commander Shadis, his mouth agape.

“I’ll head straight to the royal capital to give my report.” Commander Shadis sighed. He seemed much older than his years. “I wish you well, Commander Smith.”

*************************************************************************************************************

“...he has to be the commander,” Sisi insisted. “That’s all that needs to happen!”

“Boah, Anneliese,” complained Karoline. “If you cared as much for the Church as you do the Scouts, the known world would have long converted by now!”

“There’s no difference in who is commander and who’s just a Scout.” Pauline stopped in her tracks. She looked coldly at Sisi. “They all die in the end. Children your age are eaten by Titans. The Scouts don’t care. They’re fools at best, monsters at worst. The one thing they aren’t is heroes.”

“At least they’re doing something!” Sisi protested. “They’re trying to help us get our land back. If it wasn’t for them, there would be no farmland outside the Walls! They’re the only thing keeping us from being Titan Mittagessen!”

“The Walls protect us,” Karoline corrected.

“Who wants to be trapped behind walls their whole life?” Sisi knew she sounded like a child. She couldn’t have cared less. “I don’t want to be stuck here forever. I want to see the Unknown World!”

“The only unknown you should care about is your lack of faith in the Good News.” Pauline crossed her arms. “Find Pastor Nick when we return to Stohess. Let’s leave now, Karoline. If we hurry, we can make Trost before sundown.”

Sisi crossed her arms and looked down. 

**********************************************************************************************************

“Well, Commander?” Levi asked. “What are your orders?”

Erwin gathered his wits. “We’ll make for Trost. I’ll meet with Commanders Pixis and Dok. Find Miche and Hange. I’ll need the three of you to spread the word.”

Levi nodded and left.

Erwin started back toward the stables. Bucephalus wouldn’t have much rest that day. He made a mental note to feed the stallion a heftier portion that evening. His thoughts were all over the place. After so many years, he, Erwin Smith, was commander of the Survey Corps. It wasn’t an enviable job. Hardly anyone lasted more than six months. The former Commander Shadis was a notable exemption, and what had his longevity gotten him in the end? He had resigned alone, friendless, and loathed by every citizen inside the walls.

The same fate surely awaited Erwin.

But the Scouts never resigned themselves to their fate. They kept testing the boundaries and fighting their battles. On occasion, they succeeded. And Erwin did have an impressive track record. His ideas had kept his regiments alive. They could keep the Corps alive now that Erwin was at liberty to implement them as he willed. The Scouts could finally make headway on their goals. Their dreams could become reality.

Erwin’s dream…

Erwin pushed the thought out of his mind. He could ponder it that evening. All that mattered at the moment was making it to Trost.

*************************************************************************************************************

All that mattered to Theo at that moment was getting as far as he could away from his mother and the Brachts. Away from Louise. And so he ran. He ran as fast as his feet would carry him, through the Marktplatz and past the tailor’s. He ran and ran until his legs failed him and he dropped to his knees, gasping and wheezing and cursing his parents and Louise and God and fate.

Then he saw it.

A barge sailed down the Fluss river. There was a small gap in the wall that allowed low-lying boats to pass through. Theo could even duck underneath it.

A wild thought struck Theo just then. He didn’t have to marry Louise. He wasn’t bound by Fate just yet. He could make a break for some village where they didn’t know his name. He could start a farm and a new life. He could marry a beautiful girl and have the son of his dreams. 

All he had to do was leave Shiganshina.

Theo struggled to his feet.

Then the world exploded.

*************************************************************************************************************

The ground gave way beneath Sisi’s feet. She fell to the ground with a scream. Karoline and Pauline fared no better. They tumbled to the street beside her. 

Karoline scrambled to her feet. "By the goddesses!"

"Boah! What happened?” Sisi gasped.

“An earthquake.” Pauline stood up. “The buildings aren’t safe here. Head for the gate. Now! Move!”

Sisi jumped up and started running to the gate.

Karoline, however, stood frozen. She stared beyond Pauline and Sisi.

“Karoline!” Pauline shook Karoline’s shoulders. “By the goddesses, we–”

Karoline pointed with a trembling finger.

Pauline and Sisi turned around.

*************************************************************************************************************

Bucephalus reared.

Erwin grabbed Bucephalus’s reins to bring him to the ground.

“Erwin!” Hange rode alongside Erwin. “What was that?”

“I smell stone. And blood,” Miche said urgently. “Something’s happened in Shiganshina.”

“What could it be?” Levi wondered.

Erwin gazed back at the walls of Shiganshina. A cloud of smoke rose in the air. 

“What should we do, Erwin?” Hange asked. “Should we go back?”

Erwin thought for a moment. A crash that loud meant a disaster had occurred. More than likely, the gunpowder storage had gone up in flames. There were certainly many casualties. Destruction. People in need of assistance.

Unless…

“Erwin?”

Erwin made up his mind. He turned back toward his Scouts. “Keep riding,” he ordered. “We make for Trost. I’ll find Pyxis and send reinforcements to Shiganshina.”

*************************************************************************************************************

The blast was so powerful that Theo was knocked back to the ground. He hit his head hard against the cobblestones. He took a second before he struggled to his feet. His head spun. What had happened? Was it an earthquake? Had the barge crashed? No–there it was, sailing straight ahead.

What, then, could have possibly happened?

Theo looked around in a daze. The houses on the street now bore cracks and missed shingles. The cobblestones in the street were uneven. Yet there was no impending sign of what had caused the damage.

Until Theo turned around.

*************************************************************************************************************

Sisi’s heart flew into her mouth.

A giant creature stared over the wall into Shiganshina. It had to be a Titan–no living being could be that big and resemble a human in such a manner. But Titans never got so large. Did they? If they did, Sisi couldn’t fault the Scouts for dying at such rates.

The Titan put its hand on top of the wall. Cracks spread in all directions.

“He’s tearing down the wall,” Sisi realized.

“He can’t!” Karoline gasped. Her face was as white as a sheet. “The Walls…they’re sacred, they cannot–”

“Move,” Pauline growled. She seized her sisters’ arms and ran toward the gate. “Run! Both of you! To the barge!”

Neither Erhardt needed to be told twice.

*************************************************************************************************************

Theo took a step back. He was too dumbfounded to do anything else. A Titan? Looking over the Walls? That was impossible. The tallest Titans were only fifteen meters tall. The Walls had to be a hundred! No, it was simply impossible. Theo’s eyes had to be deceiving him. His knock to the head had to be affecting him. That was the only explanation.

Then the rocks started to fly.

Theo couldn’t understand. Was the Titan throwing boulders? The creature had just put its hand on the wall. Had that been forceful enough to release flying stones? 

One rock fell a meter from Theo’s feet, leaving a small crater in its wake, and Theo realized that these were questions for another time. Shiganshina wasn’t safe. Theo had to get out.

Theo wasn't alone. Other townspeople had realized the severity of their situation. They flooded the streets and narrowed Theo's path. He staggered toward the barge, his head spinning and his feet unsteady. Rocks flew through the air, crashing into houses, the streets, and into the masses of fleeing passerby. Blood seeped into the cobblestones. 

Theo moved as if he were in a dream. He wasn’t quite sure if this was truly happening or not. It had to be a dream. Titans didn’t attack people inside the Walls. It was a known fact. It was as certain as the sun rising in the East and setting in the West. 

But something in Theo’s mind told him to keep moving. That his life depended on making it out of Shiganshina. And so he did.

*************************************************************************************************************

The ship had passed through the wall by the time the Erhardts arrived. 

"What do we do?" Karoline wailed.

Sisi didn't hesitate. She held her nose and jumped into the river. She started to tread water as she re-surfaced. "We'll swim through!"

"Our dresses..." Pauline began.

"Father can buy new ones." Sisi nodded pointedly at the boulders flying overhead. "It's our only chance!"

Karoline shook her head.

"Get in there!" Pauline shoved Karoline into the river. As Karoline re-surfaced, spluttering for breath, Pauline jumped in. Together, the sisters swam beneath the wall and into Marien territory.

The girls climbed onto the riverbank as soon as they could.

"My dress," Karoline moaned. "It's ruined!"

"We're alive," Sisi pointed out. She shook her head like a dog.

"Stop it! Stop!" Karoline tried her best to shield herself from the water droplets.

Pauline stared at Shiganshina as she staggered out of the water. “By the goddesses.”

Sisi looked.

The Titan was still standing there. Unmoving. Unwavering. Dust rose in the air from the impact of its hand seizing the Wall. And by its feet…

“No,” Karoline gasped.

A giant hole now stood in the Wall. A massive one–at least thirty meters tall. More than big enough for Titans to crawl through. And as the horrified Sisi watched, a group of Titans staggered into Shiganshina. Screams filled the air.

Karoline covered her mouth.

“Move.” Pauline grabbed her arm. “Elisabeth, help me. We need to get to Wall Rose as fast as we can. We'll never make it on our feet. We must find some horses or catch up to that ship.”

“We can’t just leave–” Sisi began.

“We’ll die if we stay.” Pauline shook her head. “I listened to you, now you listen to me. We run, and we don’t look back!”

Sisi stifled a sob. Yet even she had to admit her sister was correct. And so she stumbled after Pauline and Karoline.

*************************************************************************************************************

Theo didn’t see the Titan until it was almost too late.

A shadow crossed overhead. Theo just had enough time to look up and see a monstrous, leering face staring at him. The Titan reached out a hand. 

Theo scrambled backward.

The Titan missed Theo by less than a meter. Instead of attacking further, its eyes gravitated toward another man running past. It reached toward him.

The man wasn’t as lucky as Theo. He screamed like a woman as the Titan lifted him into the air. “Help! Help!” His eyes locked onto Theo. “Damn you, help me!”

Theo was frozen in place.

The Titan threw the man into its mouth and bit down. The man’s voice was cut off mid-shriek. Blood ribboned through the air. Some of it fell onto Theo.

The blood’s warmth unfroze Theo’s legs. He put his hand to his mouth and willed himself not to vomit. He knew then with utmost certainty that he was not dreaming. Titans were attacking Shiganshina, and Theo was next on the menu.

Theo ran. He dodged the people who had been pinned to the street by falling stones. He scrambled past the Titans lumbering past with bloodstained mouths and fresh kills in their hands. Then he saw it–a chestnut horse, saddled and riderless, running in a panic through the street.

Theo made for the horse. He managed to grab its saddle and pull himself onto its back. “To the gate! The gate!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. “Hyah! Run!” 

The horse galloped through the gate and into freedom.

Theo glanced backward as he continued on his path. Dust blanketed all of Shiganshina. He could hear people’s screams. It was impossible to discern if they belonged to women or men. Bravery fled all those—

It then struck Theo that his parents were in Shiganshina. The Brachts as well. Melchior and Catharina, who had never been anything but kind to Theo. Lothar and Lennart, both pleasant company. Sweet Lena, only twelve years of age. And Louise…

Theo’s stomach lurched. He bent over the side of his horse and vomited. Tears welled in his eyes. He knew as surely as the sun rose in the east that his parents and the Brachts had not made it out of Shiganshina. Theo’s only family, his friends, and his fiancee were all dead. Buried in a Titan’s gullet.

Hoofs rumbled ahead.

Theo looked up. A group of riders on horseback approached him.

“Boy!” A hook-faced man pulled his horse to a stop. “Did you come from Shiganshina? We heard the explosion. Commander Erwin sent us to investigate. What happened?”

Theo couldn’t speak.

“Answer us. What happened?”

“Titans attacked Shiganshina…” Theo whispered. His head spun. “Everyone in Shiganshina is dead...”

The riders stared at each other.

“Titans?” the man said at last.

Theo choked back a sob. “They killed my parents. The Brachts...Louise…”

“Come with us.” The man put his arm behind Theo’s back. He ushered Theo and his horse into the group of riders. “We’ll find Commander Erwin. You’re with the Scouts now.”

Theo was in no place to argue.

*************************************************************************************************************

Two days passed.

The news of what happened in Shiganshina spread like the Titans through Wall Maria. The citizens were stunned. How could Titans attack humanity? Humans were the ones who fought Titans. The opposite never occurred! Then there was the matter of what to do with the Marien refugees. Losing Wall Maria was more than a blow to pride; it meant that half of humanity’s arable land had been lost. There wouldn’t be enough food to go around.

Could this be the end of humanity?

Only the children seemed unaware of humanity’s peril. That was the reason why the three children were playing on the Fluss riverbanks that day. To them, it was just another fine spring day. The sun shone bright and the water ran cold. Their delighted squeals filled the air.

“Lily!” One of the children squinted into the distance. “There’s a raft coming!”

“No, there isn’t. I don’t see it.”

“There is, too,” Lily insisted. “It’s coming this way!”

“Daisy’s right!” The other child jumped up and down. “There is a raft! I see it!”

“Is someone on it?”

“I don’t think so!”

“Bring it here, Violet,” Lily ordered. “We can play barge-and-sailors.”

“Barge-and-sailors!” Daisy jumped up and down in glee.

Violet waded into the deeper water before she fully submerged herself. She kicked her feet and swam toward the raft. As she got closer, Violet began to notice something. There did seem to be an object aboard the raft. A bundle of cloth, perhaps?

Violet reached the raft. She grunted as she pulled the raft up to the shore.

The other girls gathered around.

“What’s that?” Daisy asked.

Violet spat out a mouthful of riverwater. “I think it’s clothes.”

“No, it’s not.” Lily took a step back. “It’s a lady.”

A bedraggled young woman was sprawled across the raft. Her dress and hair were soaking wet. Her eyes were closed.

“Is she dead?” Violet timidly asked.

Daisy poked the woman with her finger.

“Go find Mama,” Lily ordered Daisy. “Tell her we need help.”

The father of the household arrived later that evening.

“Nile.” A woman came out of the house to meet him. She clasped her hands around his shoulders. “Our daughters found a girl in the river.”

“Dead?”

“Alive. She was on a raft.” The woman shook her head. “I think she’s from Maria.”

"A Marien? This far into Wall Rose?" Nile shook his head in disbelief. "Where did she go?"

“She's still in the parlor.” The woman led Nile inside. “I wrapped her in blankets and lit the fireplace. She's in bad shape.”

The young woman sat on the hearth. She appeared to be in her late teen years, no older than twenty. Her hair was still wet, and her face was deathly pale.

Nile cleared his throat.

The girl didn’t respond.

“Erm…” Nile tried again. “Hello. My name’s Nile Dok. You’ve already met my wife, Marie.”

The girl didn’t speak.

Nile took a hesitant step toward the girl. “Did you come from Shiganshina?”

Still no response.

“You’re in Wall Rose now. You’re safe here.” Nile crouched next to the girl. “Marie and I will help you find your family.”

“They’re dead.”

Nile started.

“I saw them die,” the girl croaked. Her eyes welled with tears. “Mama, Papa, Grandfather and Grandmother…they're all gone. The Titans ate everyone in the village. I'm all that's left.”

“You are Marien,” Nile realized. “From Shiganshina.”

The girl shook her head. “From Eisenbach in the mountains.”

“You poor girl.” Marie covered her mouth. She embraced the girl. “You’re safe now. We’re going to help you.” She shot Nile a pointed look.

Nile nodded. “Yes, we will…what was your name?”

“Beatrice." The girl tried her best to sit up straight. "Beatrice Engel."

“Welcome to Wall Rose, Beatrice Engel.” Marie smoothed Beatrice’s hair. “Now go to sleep. We’ll discuss what to do in the morning.”

Beatrice lay down with a sigh. She was asleep within minutes.

Chapter Text

PART ONE: ROSE

We all die. The goal isn't to live forever; the goal is to create something that will. ~Chuck Palahniuk

***

A knock came at the front door.

Theo set his files aside. "Come in."

A timid young woman stepped into the office. She saluted. "Hilda Reuss at your service, sir."

"And I at yours." Theo leaned forward. "What brings you here, Hilda Reuss?"

Hilda's arms dropped to her side. She took a shaky breath.

Theo tilted his head.

"I'm sorry, I was looking for Commander Smith–"

"He's been gone for some hours." Theo gave Hilda an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid I'm the best you've got."

"I need to speak to him." Tears welled in Hilda's eyes. "I'm leaving the Corps. I've been on three missions and I can't go on any more. I've lost so much. Minnie, Cora, Dagmar...they all died and I couldn't save them." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm going back to Trost to work in the fields."

"Hold on, now." Theo shook his head. "Wait just a moment."

"You don't understand," Hilda sobbed. "I'm a failure. How can I save humanity when I can't save my friends? The Scouts are better off without me."

"No, you don't understand," Theo said gently. He stood up.

Hilda flinched as Theo's chair scraped across the floor.

"No need." Theo held up his hands. "I'm not going to tell you that the Scouts need you or that you'd be a fool to abandon us. I will tell you a story." He walked toward his office window and beckoned for Hilda to follow. "I was in your place five years ago. I lost my mother and my father in Shiganshina. My fiancée and her family were also eaten that day."

Theo swallowed. Thinking of Louise still sent fresh waves of pain across his body. How he regretted his treatment of her. The poor girl hadn't deserved his cruelty. But it did no good to dwell on such matters, and so Theo continued. "The Scouts rescued me. I vowed to make my family proud. I wanted to prove that there was a reason that I survived. Those first months were the worst of my life. I was sent on the mission to reclaim Wall Maria."

Hilda gasped.

Theo nodded. "I was one of the ten percent who survived. I lost countless friends. Good people, each and every one of them. I remember their faces...I remember their deaths. Those things never leave you. Like you, I wondered why I had lived while they did not. I cursed myself for my survival. I wanted to give up. I tried to resign. Commander Erwin didn't accept my resignation. I'll tell you exactly what he told me. Are you listening?"

"Yes, sir."

"Every time you think of giving up, think of who you lost along the way. Your family, your comrades...what were their names again? Elsa and Donnie?"

"Minnie. Cora." Hilda took a shaky breath. "Dagmar."

"Minnie, Cora, and Dagmar. Remember them. Remember their faces." Theo stared out the window. "Remember how they smiled and how they laughed. Remember everything about them that made them matter to you."

A tear rolled down Hilda's cheek.

"You lost them. The Titans took them from you." Theo's eyebrows narrowed. "And they will continue to take everyone else you care about. Your parents. Your grandparents. Your brothers and sisters. The Titans will take and take and take until there are no more friends or families to miss. Because there won't be any of us left."

"Hmm?"

"That's what's going to happen if we give up the fight." Theo reached for the sword at his waist. "That's what will happen if we decide that we are not good enough to battle the Titans. The Titans aren't going to stop eating humans just because we stop killing them. Do you want to make your friends' lives matter? You want to make their sacrifices meaningful, don't you?"

Hilda nodded.

Theo brandished his sword. "Then make those bastards pay for their sins in hell."

Hilda's eyes widened. Then they narrowed. Her face set in determination.

"Go back to the barracks. Report to me in a week." Theo smiled. "If you still think you're not good enough to avenge your friends, talk to the commander. I've heard the fieldhands need a new manure spreader."

Hilda turned and left. She nearly ran into Commander Erwin on her way out.

"Commander!" Theo snapped to attention.

"Commander!" Hilda's face turned white as a sheet. She shrank against the doorway. "Forgive me, sir, I–"

Commander Erwin waved off Hilda's apology. "Did you need to speak with me?"

"No–No, sir." Hilda frantically shook her head. "I was just leaving, sir. Good day, sir." She ducked past Erwin and ran out of the room.

Theo and the commander watched her leave.

"She wanted to leave the Corps," Theo said at last. He slid his sword back into its sheath. "I believe I've convinced her to stay."

The commander raised an eyebrow.

"Not with the sword," Theo said quickly.

"I see." Commander Erwin closed his eyes. He shut the office door. "I'm not surprised. Morale's been low since the Weindorf expedition. The Capitol sends me letters every week. It's difficult for me to justify our budget."

"And our existence?"

"It's never been secure." Commander Erwin walked to the desk. "The Karanes path. What information did you find?"

"Yes, sir." Theo picked up his file. He took out a map and unrolled it across the desktop. "Karanes opens into the eastern Marien frontier." He pointed. "To the direct east is the Wildeheide. It's a broad, flat grassland. We'd be completely exposed. To the south is Grauwald forest."

"What trees grow there?"

"I was never there," Theo admitted. "Wulfshausen is a day's travel south. But my squad leader in the Maria reclamation mission was from Minowa village, just east of the Grauwald. He said the trees there keep their leaves all year and are so close together that you can't see the sun when passing through."

"Reliable cover," the commander pondered aloud.

Theo nodded. "I'd pick the Grauwald for our route. It cuts a direct path to Shiganshina. We would also have the extra cover, no matter what time of year we set out on expeditions. We'd know exactly what to expect."

"You never know enough when facing a Titan." The commander traced a route along the map with his finger. "What are the conditions to the southeast?"

"The same as Wulfshausen." Theo shrugged. "Farms, fields. A few trees here and there. I'd imagine the fields are grasslands now."

"Thank you, Theo." The commander picked up Theo's map. "You've given me much to think about."

Theo knew the commander well enough to know when he'd been dismissed. He gave the commander a curt nod. "Good day, sir."

The commander didn't even look up.

It was a long walk back to the barracks. Theo replayed the encounter as he went. His blood started to boil. He'd researched the terrain of eastern Wall Maria for countless hours. Many a night he'd spent in the library, embroiled in ancient atlases. All for a possible path that might not even come into fruition. This was the thanks that Theo received in return?

The rational side of Theo's brain begged him to reconsider. Theo had no reason to have enmity with Erwin Smith. The commander was commander for good reason. He had been a Scout longer than Theo had been alive. He'd also recognized Theo's potential. Theo doubted whether the likes of Levi, Miche or even Hange would have given him the responsibilities the commander had. For all Theo knew, the other captains would have let Theo quit the Survey Corps. Theo was indebted to the commander for that. He had no reason to bear a grudge.

But did the commander have to be so dismissive of Theo's research? Couldn't he have given Theo a bit more of his time?

Theo had his weaknesses. He wasn't as strong as Captain Levi or Miche. He wasn't as intelligent as Hange or Moblit. He was a novice compared to the commander. And, try as he might, Theo still had the air of a Marien. The other captains could deny it as much as they wanted to. The looks in their eyes betrayed them. To them, Theo was just a peasant from Wulfshausen. Nothing Theo did would ever change that.

But Theo did have certain qualifications. He reminded himself of them as he approached the barracks. Theo had an upper hand over the other captains when it came to appearance. Years of farm labor and Survey Corps missions had given him a broad, muscular frame. He was also taller than the other captains, spare Miche. Theo also took great lengths to maintain his dark curls and bright smile. He could make any woman swoon if he willed it. Not that Theo ever truly desired to use this ability. But it was a critical ace up his sleeve that none of the other captains truly possessed.

And while the other captains were borderline geniuses, they were all socially inept. Levi was hated by the entire capital. Miche had never learned the definition of personal space. Hange was...well, Hange, and poor Moblit's reputation was tarnished by association. Theo, however, was astute. He only needed a moment to read any room. That was all he needed to know which words would benefit his situation. He could liberally spread charm and still sound sincere. He could charm anyone into an ally. It was a gift few Scouts possessed. Theo considered it his greatest asset, even more so than his looks.

As Theo opened the door to the barracks, he forced his most charming smile. He tried to look cool and composed. Charming. That was the Theo the Scouts admired. Adored, even. Not the Theo who seethed at the commander for the smallest slight. Not the Theo who thought every clap of thunder was the return of the Collossial Titan. Not the Theo who was haunted by the faces of his parents and his Louise every time he closed his eyes. That Theo didn't exist to them. Theo wished to keep it that way.

And so, he addressed every Scout that he passed on the way to his bed. Felix, Bastian, Dirk, Ethan–Theo knew their names and exactly what words worked with them. He dropped compliments here and there and asked questions when appropriate. He noted with satisfaction that their faces all lit up as he left.

Nonetheless, Theo's dissatisfaction with the commander lingered as he settled into his bunk. He couldn't understand. Why couldn't the commander be more appreciative of Theo's hard work? Why couldn't the other captains see Theo in the same light as the Scouts? No, they didn't matter–sooner or later, one of them would die. It was a given. Countless veterans perished on every mission. It was only a matter of time before the captains followed their comrades. When that day came to pass, the commander would certainly appoint Theo as their replacement.

Or would he?

The thought chilled Theo. But he couldn't ignore it. The commander hadn't seemed all that impressed with Theo's research and planning. Captains had to be quick-witted and master strategists. If the commander found Theo a poor tactician, he would promote someone else, and Theo would languish as a lowly Scout for the remaining few years of his life. He would die a miserable death in a Titan's mouth. He would barely be missed. The public mourned commanders and captains, not Marien peasant boys. His comrades would dimly remember that a Theo Schoeber had existed, and he had been good-looking and sharp-witted. But they would certainly die, and so would the legacy that Theo had so carefully cultivated.

No. It couldn't come to pass. Theo hadn't survived the fall of Shiganshina for nothing. There had to be a reason why he had returned from the unsuccessful reclamation. His fallen brothers-in-arms hadn't sacrificed their lives for a mere Scout. Theo Schoeber was someone worth fighting and dying for. He was a veteran Scout. He was charming in appearance and character. Theo knew he had all the qualifications of a captain–a commander, even.

The commander would see it soon enough. Theo would make certain of it. The next expedition into Wall Maria was in two days' time. It was the perfect opportunity to prove himself. Theo wouldn't waste it.

With this resolve in mind, Theo closed his eyes. He was asleep in minutes. 

Chapter Text

It was a peaceful afternoon in the forest. The leaves gently rustled in the breeze. Shadows danced across the ground. A doe and fawn knelt in a clearing. Birds sang overhead. It was a serene moment.

The peace was soon shattered.

A bugle sounded. Bloodhounds bayed. Horses stampeded through the forests. Bloodthirsty shouts of noblemen riders echoed through the woods. The deer fled into the brush. The birds landed in the treetops. Their song was replaced by shrill warning calls.

That sound, more than anything, sent shivers down Beatrice Engel's spine.

Beatrice hated foxhunts. They turned noblemen of the finest pedigree into brutes. How the men loved the thrill of the chase–if they even bothered to make an actual hunt of it. More often than not, the men were too lazy or their egos too large. They'd send servants into the woods to bait traps and set snares. A starving fox would never turn down a swine head or a steak from a noble's private reserve. The unsuspecting animal would try to steal a meal and find itself ensnared. The unlucky ones had their legs punctured by metal blades and bled to death before the hunters arrived. Far less lucky were the ones who were still alive.

Beatrice shuddered.

But she wasn't in the woods that day to curse the noblemen for their bloodlust and cruelty. It was the foxes she was there for.

And their blood.

How did I get here? She couldn't help to wonder.

The matter of what to do with the Marien refugee had proved more difficult than Nile or Marie anticipated. They had first hoped that Beatrice had somehow been mistaken–that someone else had been fortunate enough to escape Eisenbach village. Their hopes were dashed. A kingdom-wide census revealed that the population of Wall Maria had been decimated. Entire villages had been wiped out. Among them was Eisenbach.

Beatrice was the sole survivor.

Nile and Marie had debated fiercely about the future of the girl who stared at the ceiling for hours on end. Where would she go? Camps for the refugees were being established near Trost, but Marie wouldn't allow Beatrice to be sent there. The camps were overcrowded and overpoliced. Upwards of fifty people shared a tent. The youngest children would be hit for the smallest rule infraction. They were almost an equal hell to a Titan's mouth. Marie would not send Beatrice there.

What, then, could be done with Beatrice Engel?

The matter dragged on. As the days passed, Beatrice seemed to awaken from her stupor. She started to move around more. She spoke very little. She never smiled. She said enough, though–enough for the Doks to get a glimpse of her past.

Beatrice Engel, at the time of Wall Maria's destruction, was eighteen years old. She had been the only child of a woodworker and a milkmaid. She had never ventured far beyond her village. Eisenbach was situated in the remotest reaches of Wall Maria, far within the mountains. There were no roads that led in or out. A small river flowed through Eisenbach, which villagers used when necessary to travel. However, for the most part, inhabitants lived off the land and almost no outside resources. The ground allowed few crops other than wheat and root vegetables. Residents would forage for wild plants and hunt the abundant wildlife to supplement their diets. Beatrice was skilled with a musket. She was even more adept at identifying and using plants.

"How?" Violet had asked at dinner one night.

Light entered Beatrice's eyes for the first time. She leaned forward. "I'll show you. Your names–" she looked at the three Dok daughters– "–are Violet, Lily, and Daisy?"

The girls nodded.

"Violets grow in the forests around Eisenbach. We used them in many ways. We would eat the leaves in spring."

"You'd eat them?" Violet's nose wrinkled.

"Violet," Marie warned.

"We'd eat the flowers, too," Beatrice continued. "There were two types. The lighter ones taste like pepper. Darker flowers taste like mint. The roots and stems are used for tea. Those can cure any illness. And daisies–" Beatrice turned to the girl in question "–are a very helpful plant. A daisy poultice heals any wound. The flowers don't taste as good as violets do, but they cure stomach fever."

Daisy's eyes widened.

"What about me?" Lily squirmed impatiently.

Beatrice hesitated.

"Tell me!"

Beatrice sighed. "Lilies cause your mouth and lips to swell until you almost can't breathe. They also make you vomit for days."

Violet and Daisy began to laugh.

"No fair!" Lily protested.

Nile and Marie had exchanged a look that hadn't made sense to Beatrice at the time.

Nile had approached Beatrice the next day.

"You know a lot about medicine," he had said after a moment.

"I needed to," Beatrice said matter-of-factly. "We had no doctors. It all comes easily to me, anyhow."

"It does?"

Beatrice nodded. "I can tell when someone is sick and what their illness is. I know what causes the illness and what treats it. We don't often have medicine in Eisenbach, so we'd treat ourselves best we could."

Nile seemed thoughtful for a moment. Then, he smiled. "I know a place you can go."

And so Beatrice had been enrolled in the Universitätsmedizin school for doctors and nurses. The process had been laborious. Universitätsmedizin school was located in Mitras, the capital of the Known World. It only admitted students of pristine backgrounds. Few Sina residents were eligible. A student from Wall Rose would typically be denied on the spot. A Marien mountain girl? Unheard of.

Unbeknownst to Beatrice, she had been incredibly fortunate. She had happened to be taken in by the family of the commander of the Military Police himself. As far as Beatrice knew, Nile had used his position to her advantage. She hadn't asked what strings he had pulled. She didn't want to know.

All Beatrice concerned herself with was the acceptance letter that she received from the Universitätsmedizin. To Beatrice Engel from Wall Rose, it read. You have been accepted into Good King Fritz's Most Esteemed Nursing Institution. Term begins in two weeks time.

Wall Rose, the letter had said. Not Wall Maria.

Beatrice committed that detail to memory.

She bid farewell to the Doks the week after that. Nile helped her settle into Mitras and find a suitable place to stay. Three streets from the school was a baker with a room for rent. Beatrice would aid the baker with deliveries and cleanings, and that was payment enough for the woman.

It was in this manner that Beatrice began her life anew.

Sina society couldn't be more different than mountain life. Beatrice had never seen so many people in her life. Such strange people, as well. Each outfit consisted of the finest fabric Beatrice had ever seen. Men wore strange hats and curled their mustaches. Women arranged their hair and powdered their faces. They all lived so closely together, too, packed into apartments and houses as grand as palaces. What Mariens considered hell, Sinans found to be heaven. Beatrice had never seen anything so unusual in her life.

The worst part about Wall Sina, though, was The Etiquette.

Unspoken rules governed the high society of Mitras. It took weeks for Beatrice to learn them all. Women couldn't use a man's first name in conversation. A proper woman would never ride in a carriage with a man who wasn't a blood relative. Being the last to leave an event was as scandalous as walking naked in the streets. In relation, women needed to lift the hem of their dresses in their right hand when crossing the street to avoid stains. But never with two hands–oh, the horror!

Dress itself was strictly regulated. Women were expected to have a new dress for every occasion and there were rules for which occasions required what outfit. Women had to wear high collars and long sleeves when receiving guests. Jewels were reserved for balls and promenades. Hats or bonnets were scandalous in the mornings, yet essential in the afternoons and evenings. Gloves had to be worn at all times. Beatrice was grateful that the Universitätsmedizin required its students to wear uniforms, which exempted her from dress etiquette. She feared she would lose her mind if she had to follow so many rules.

She was not so fortunate when it came to conversation. Much to Beatrice's exasperation, this, too, was regulated by etiquette. A natural laugh was seen as a grave offense. Only the lower class acted according to their animalistic natures–such stated the etiquette. If one wanted to laugh, they would raise their right hand–always their right–to their mouth and say "Ha, ha, ha!" That was the etiquette's idea of a proper laugh for the women of high standing. Also frowned upon were scratching, slouching, speaking louder than superiors, and crossing one's legs. Even yawning was a violation of the etiquette.

Those who violated the etiquette became pariahs. Beatrice witnessed several of her classmates fall down that path. She kept names. There was Etta Brandt in Beatrice's first year, Sophie Kramer in her second. Then came Philippe Schick and Christine Hollenhorst in years three and four. Elisabeth Erhardt in year five. Beatrice's classmates and instructors shunned all five girls. It was the miserable and inevitable fate of an Untermensch.

Only young Elisabeth had not yet lost her spark–and what a spark she had. The girl was worse than the past four put together. She would loudly yawn with her mouth uncovered, shift in her seat, argue with the professor, and butt her way into any conversation that didn't concern her in the slightest. It took less than a week for her to earn a list of infractions longer than her arm. The other students despised Elisabeth. Beatrice herself was less than fond of her. Yet she pitied her–and the other four pariahs. She also resolved to never fall down their path. Beatrice didn't care to be liked by her classmates, but she also wanted to keep her humanity in their eyes.

Thus, Beatrice gave up on speaking altogether after two weeks' time. She refrained from laughing or even smiling and altogether kept a low profile. It was a lonely existence, true. Beatrice would watch her classmates discussing promenades and betrothals and feel her heart ache. In those moments, she would miss her family and her village. That was where Beatrice belonged. Not in a society ruled by etiquette.

Unfortunately, Beatrice had no family or village to return to.  She had no choice but to endure the etiquette and her lonely existence. In time, she became comfortable with her fate. Why would she want to be friends with people who would shun her for being herself? Besides, the loss of Beatrice's village and family had destroyed her. She never wanted to feel such pain again. Making attachments would only set herself up for future heartbreak. Last and certainly not least, being alone was far better than being an outcast.

Or dead.

With no social life to distract her, Beatrice threw herself into her studies. Much to her chagrin, the school's curriculum was also influenced by etiquette. Very little emphasis was given to the proper treatment of illness and injury. A woman's modesty had to be protected at all times, as was the etiquette. It drove Beatrice mad.

However, the school wasn't altogether useless. They would visit the wards of the royal hospital and observe the doctors at work. Students were taught about medicines that were more effective than herbs and poultices. Beatrice learned the proper names of illnesses and their symptoms. She could sew a proper suture. Of even greater value were the diagrams–maps of the body's bones and organs and the vessels that circulated the lifeblood. Beatrice saved every document she could find. She took notice of everything she saw or learned.

Then she started to get ideas.

They had been simple at first. Beatrice's first idea had come after a year spent in school. She took notice of the girls who treated patients in the Royal Fritz hospital. Some were disgusted by dirt and dipped their hands in their patients' washbasins. Most continued their work as usual. Beatrice observed a trend as the weeks went by: the nurses who used the washbasins saved more patients than the majority did.

Beatrice began to bring a flask of water to class with her.

Her classmates had sniggered. "What good does that do?" Gisela Hartmann had asked. "Who would walk around with wet hands?"

Beatrice had thought fast. "None of us would dare appear in public with dirty dresses. What respectable woman would also appear in public with dirty hands?"

The other girls began to wash their hands after that.

Beatrice started to make other observations. She wrote them down in a journal. Clean tools save more patients. Old milk upsets the stomach. Boiled (and cooled) water never causes illness. Then she started to wonder. Why does old milk cause illness? What is so special about boiled water?

And one day, out of the blue: Are there treatments for incurable illnesses and injuries?

The thought wouldn't leave. As Beatrice's lecturer droned on and on about Underground waifs dying of diphtheria, Beatrice wondered if their conditions were truly mortal. What, too, of the flux epidemic in Orvud district–why were some able to survive? Did the blood in consumptive phlegm indicate an unknown, even treatable, injury of the lungs?

And the worst injury of all...attacks from Titans.

Beatrice heard it all. She listened to the bakery customers discussing the mortality of the Survey Corps. She overheard gossip in the streets. She would read the morning newspaper on her walk to class. The reclamation of Wall Maria had killed eighteen percent of humanity. Survey Corps expeditions had mortality rates of thirty percent. Many of those people died swiftly; not even the most skilled surgeon could save someone who had been eaten. Far more (or so Beatrice heard) were rescued by their comrades, only to die minutes or hours later. They had simply lost too much blood. It couldn't be helped. If one passed a certain threshold of blood loss, they were done for. It was set in stone. The body simply couldn't replace that much blood.

Which sparked another idea.

Beatrice held no love for the Survey Corps. She knew their mission was futile. Wall Maria had been overrun by Titans. It was lost forever. At some point, their commander had to come to his senses. Beatrice saw no reason for him to send children to die in droves for a hopeless dream. Would it not be better to fortify the defenses of Wall Rose if the Titans ever set their eyes there?

Notwithstanding, Beatrice's heart was not altogether hardened. She had been a Marien villager, after all. She had witnessed Titan brutality firsthand. Her family had disappeared into a Titan's maw. Her countrymen had bled to death on the streets. Beatrice wouldn't wish the fate upon her worst enemy. The Scouts were idiotic children playing men's games, yes, but they deserved to return home to their families. Beatrice couldn't save them from the Titans' mouths.

She could try to save them from bleeding to death.

It was a wild idea. Completely mad. Beatrice tried to dismiss it. One night, though, as she tossed and turned in bed, she began to think. Not all wounds were fatal. Humans could lose a great deal of blood and survive. What, then, if blood could be transferred? Could someone purposely injure themselves and share their blood with someone who had passed the threshold of death?

Was it possible to bring someone back from the point of no return?

Beatrice knew better than to ask her teachers. As far as they were concerned, medical knowledge was at its forefront. Those who dared ask questions were ridiculed–such was the etiquette. Beatrice would be no one if she voiced her ideas. She'd be ostracized by everyone she knew. Perhaps she would lose her standing in the school itself.

Beatrice wouldn't let that happen.

She also would not let the idea go. It was highly unorthodox, yet reasonable enough in her eyes. And if Beatrice's hunch proved correct, it could be revolutionary. She could save hundreds of lives. Thousands, even, if the Titans ever returned. Those were numbers that Beatrice couldn't ignore. She had to find a way to prove or disprove her theory.

But how?

An opportunity soon revealed itself. One afternoon in Beatrice's fourth year of studies, a few of her classmates started talking. Beatrice couldn't help overhearing.

"Will your father have guests this evening?" Friederike von Hora asked Wilhelmine Knapp.

Wilhelmine had shaken her head. "Father will be away. The Fechners are hosting the first fox hunt of the season."

"In the Fechner wood? That is much earlier than usual."

Wilhelmine had lowered her voice. "Father fears the Mariens will eat the foxes before he has a chance to catch them."

"Ha, ha, ha," the girls chortled in unison.

Foxhunts. Beatrice had shaken her head. She found them entirely barbaric. Perhaps it wasn't fair of her to be so judgemental. Beatrice had hunted in her home village when called upon, and she was as good with a musket as most men. Marien villages, though, hunted out of necessity. Not for sport. It wasn't fair for such poor creatures to bleed and die for nothing–

The idea struck Beatrice in that moment.

"Good afternoon." The instructor had entered the room just then. "If you last remember..."

For once, though, Beatrice did not pay attention. Her mind was elsewhere–in the Fechner wood, to be exact. Where the snares were being set for the unsuspecting foxes. Foxes who would certainly die, even if Beatrice's experiments proved faulty.

Beatrice had found her test subjects.

The bugle sounded again.

Beatrice shook herself from her reminisces. She wasn't in the woods to reflect on the past. The hunters were drawing nearer and nearer, which meant she had precious little time to find her fox.

Beatrice was prepared. Her trusty journal hung from a band at her waist. She had two satchels, one on each shoulder. In one was all of the equipment she needed: a syringe, the piping, bandages, a rag, and a half-empty canister of chloroform that she had snuck from the royal hospital. In the other was an old tod fox. Beatrice had rescued him from a rope snare. The tod had been uninjured and not all that appreciative of Beatrice's assistance. She had been forced to use the chloroform. It was bound to keep the tod unconscious for a quarter hour or longer. Beatrice hoped that would give her enough time to run an experiment.

All she needed to do was find an injured fox.

Beatrice peered ahead. She tried to ignore the sound of the hunters and their hounds. An injured fox would usually be whimpering in its trap. Snared foxes yelped. Both sounds were easy to miss, especially when the circumstances were far from ideal.

Beatrice's eyes, then, were her most reliable asset.

Beatrice squinted. She tried to make out any movement in the leaf cover. That could indicate an ensnared fox. Trapped foxes were much harder to discern. The noblemen didn't deploy their foxhounds for no reason. How Beatrice wished for one in that moment.

Her eyes then took notice of an orange patch in the dead leaves.

Beatrice's breath caught. She slunk off the path and into the trees. Had her eyes deceived her, or...Beatrice stopped dead in her tracks as she saw the silver glint of a trap. Ahead of her lay a fox–a young vixen, judging by its size. Its chest rapidly rose and fell.

Beatrice dropped to her knees. Grunting, she pried apart the metal cage and released the fox's foot. The fox's blood had turned the ground into mud. Its fur was stained scarlet.

Beatrice quickly took a step backward in case the fox decided to try to run or attack.

The fox lay motionless.

Beatrice plucked a twig from a nearby tree and threw it at the fox. The stick hit in the middle of the fox's stomach. Still, it didn't move.

Beatrice pursed her lips. The fox was in dire trouble. She fumbled in her satchel for a bandage and wrapped the vixen's foot. She then scooped the fox into her arms and ran toward her base.

Beatrice had been sabotaging foxhunts in the Fechner forest for two years. During that time, she had run sixteen experiments. All of them had been failures.

Beatrice had little hope for the seventeenth experiment. It mattered not, she reminded herself, for the poor vixen and the old tod were slated for death anyhow. At the very least, Beatrice was sparing them from a far less gratuitous fate.

She would be saving their lives at best.

During her time in the forest, Beatrice had discovered several spots that served as her testing facilities. One was a small cavern behind a waterfall. One was an ancient, hollowed-out tree stump big enough to fit Beatrice. The nearest facility to Beatrice's position was a long-abandoned cabin. She ran in that direction as fast as she could. She could only pray that she would reach it in time.

By luck, the vixen was still breathing by the time Beatrice arrived at the cabin. She climbed through the shattered windowpane and entered the disheveled space. The old inhabitants hadn't bothered to take any of their belongings when they left. There was an old bed, chairs, cookware covered in an inch-deep layer of dust, and–most crucially–a table.

Beatrice laid the vixen on the table. She sat her satchels next to the fox. First, she removed her equipment–the syringe, the tube, and the bandages. She then opened her other satchel and carefully took out the old tod. By good grace, he was still asleep.

Beatrice then opened her journal and opened it to a new page. Experiment Seventeen, she wrote. Tod and vixen. She then felt for the tod and vixen's pulses. Tod: 90. Vixen: 172 bpm, she recorded. She bit her lip. It was a bad prognosis. The vixen might not even be worth the effort.

Nonetheless, Beatrice proceeded with the experiment. She first prodded the tod to judge his state. He didn't budge. The coast was clear.

It was time for the transfusion.

Beatrice's early experiments had taught her that the flow of blood had to be monitored and controlled. The best way to do this, she decided, was with a machine. She had developed a crude contraption through trial and error. One one end was a glass syringe, on the other was a spare syringe needle. Connecting both ends was a repurposed straw. Beatrice would use the syringe to extract the blood from the unsuspecting tod and feed it into the vixen's body with the needle. This design seemed the most likely to succeed.

Beatrice hoped it would, at any rate.

Beatrice wasted no time. She first felt the vixen's leg until she found its vein. She then gently inserted the needle into the vein. Once it was in, she felt for a vein on the tod's back and then inserted the syringe.

Wine-red blood filled the syringe.

Beatrice pursed her lips. She thought back to Experiments Six and Seven, where she had released the blood all at once. The recipients had spasmed and died on the spot. But in Experiments Eleven and Sixteen, Beatrice had been far too slow and the foxes had bled to death. A slow, yet steady, release seemed to be the key to success.

Beatrice slowly eased the pressure from the syringe. The blood began to trickle from the syringe and into the tube. She carefully counted the rate of blood flow per second. It was faster than Experiments Eleven and Sixteen had been, but not so fast as Six or Seven. A happy medium, as Beatrice's mother would have said.

Beatrice bit her lip.

For the next several minutes, she carefully observed the blood transfusion. It was important to raise the vixen's blood level above the death threshold. It was also critical that the tod didn't lose too much blood. Beatrice had made that mistake in several prior experiments. She watched the tod for any signs of hemorrhaging, prepared to remove the syringe at any moment. She also observed the vixen for any signs or absences of life.

After several minutes, Beatrice removed the syringe from the donor tod. She pressed on the back to staunch the bleeding until the wound clotted over. Then she took his pulse. 120 bpm, she recorded. It was on the high end of normal, but not worrisome. The old tod would survive the experiment.

Only time would tell with the vixen.

Beatrice peered through the windowpane. She saw and heard no trace of the noblemen. Satisfied, Beatrice scooped up the tod and gently set him outside. The chloroform would soon wear off. Beatrice had learned from experience that the donors were not pleased upon awakening.

Beatrice then turned back toward the vixen.

Its foot twitched.

Beatrice's eyes widened. She wondered if her eyes and mind had betrayed her. The vixen hadn't stirred since she'd freed it from the trap.

The vixen's foot twitched again.

Beatrice's breath caught. It couldn't be a coincidence. Could it? She crept forward and gingerly felt for the fox's pulse.

125 bpm. Above normal–barely. Far lower than it had been.

Beatrice stared at the vixen. Its chest was still rising and falling, but at a more regulated pattern. Its mouth then opened and closed.

"You're alive," Beatrice whispered.

The vixen moaned.

Beatrice couldn't wrench her eyes from the vixen. She stood there for several more minutes and looked for any signs of the fox suddenly relapsing and dying. However, none came. As Beatrice watched, the fox stirred more. First its back paws moved, then its front. And then it raised its head.

Beatrice stared.

It took a few minutes more, but the fox staggered to its feet. It yelped as it put its injured paw against the table. Then, without warning, it sprang from the table top. It limped about for a meter or two, trying the pressure on its different feet, before it noticed the broken window. It swished its tail. Then the vixen sprang outdoors.

Beatrice rushed to the window. She only managed to catch a glimpse of the vixen's tail as it darted into the brush. Then it was gone.

Beatrice staggered backward. Her hand slowly rose to her mouth. It had happened. It had actually happened.  One year, seventeen experiments, and nineteen dead foxes later, she had successfully transfused blood and saved a fox's life. Her hunch had proven correct. Blood transfusion did work. It wasn't just a madwoman's dream.

Beatrice threw open her notebook. Blood transfused at 2 mL per minute, she wrote. Vixen pulse after transfusion: 125 bpm. Unsteady on legs for a while but soon regained adequate bodily functions. Experiment: SUCCESS.

With this done, Beatrice collapsed at the table. She was too stunned to fully process what she had done. She slowly tried to process it all. Her instructors had been wrong. The threshold of no return could be reversed. Fallen Scouts could be saved. Fewer people would die in the case of a Titan attack.

All thanks to Beatrice Engel.

No. Beatrice gathered her wits. She couldn't be too hasty. The procedure had only been successful once. Beatrice would have to replicate it twice or even thrice to solidify its safety. Then she could proceed with the procedure on humans...or at least attempt to work up the nerve to tell her instructors. Or Nile. Or anyone who wasn't an adherent to that damn etiquette.

That would be a matter for another day. Beatrice gathered her equipment and put it into her satchel. She tied her journal to her waist. The sun would soon be setting. It would not be easy for Beatrice to return to Mitras in the dark. She would return to the woods the next day and try to find more foxes. 

And then, and then, and then...

Sina spring evenings tended to have a chill to them. That evening was no exception. Goosebumps raised on Beatrice's arms as she followed the path to Mitras. Her teeth chattered. Yet the glow in her heart kept her warm the entire walk home. 

Chapter Text

“Boah!” Sisi complained as the maid tightened her corset.

“Boah,” Karoline mocked. She did not seem to notice or care that this action disrupted the powder on her face. “Are you eight or eighteen, Anneliese? Remember yourself. You are a lady!”

“I am being–” Sisi grunted. “Suffocated!”

“Whose fault is that?” Pauline sniffed. Another maid was arranging her hair. As the woman put on the finishing touches, she gave Sisi a stern look. “You are supposed to wear a corset every day.”

“I don’t care.” Sisi pouted as she stepped into her evening dress. She held up her arms so the maid could lace up the backside. “I don’t want to spend another evening standing around for hours, waving a fan and trying to pretend that I hate it here!”

“Think of a betrothal,” Karoline reminded. “Many suitable bachelors will be in attendance tonight. And green goes very well with your skin and hair.” She smiled. “You may have a double wedding with Pauline and Wilhelm.”

Sisi stifled a groan.

“Look at you.” Pauline stood from her chair. Sisi couldn’t help but feel a flash of jealousy. Pauline had always been the beauty of the Erhardt family, with pale blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and thick, blonde hair that reached her knees when undone. She was quite the vision that evening in her sapphire-blue gown and her elegant updo. “The bachelors will admire you all evening.”

Sisi crossed her arms.

“They shall,” Karoline agreed. She fastened the clasp of the Three Goddesses around her neck. “You’re certain to find your match tonight.”

“But don’t speak,” Pauline warned. “Or eat. You’ll spill across your gown and ruin it.”

“Don’t drink, either.” Karoline nodded. “Not even water.”

“But–” Sisi began.

Pauline put a finger to Sisi’s mouth. “And in the sake of the Three Goddesses, don’t argue.”

Sisi sighed. “Fine.”

“Let’s leave.” Karoline adjusted the hems of her dress. “Mother and Father will wonder where we are.”

“So will the guests,” agreed Pauline. She gave Sisi one last look. “Your future is waiting. Don’t ruin it.”

The Erhardts were outsiders amongst the other noble families. Unlike the rest of the gentry, who had been wealthy long before humanity built the Walls, Sisi’s family had only recently found their fortune. Sisi could recite the story by heart. Her grandfather, Heinrich Erhardt, had been a middle-class merchant blessed with a handsome appearance and a shrewd mind. He had capitalized on factories before the traditional noble families had the mind to do so. In five years, he had accumulated the wealth of the king himself. He then married into an illustrious noble family to secure his legacy. It was a source of pride for the Erhardts. It was a seal of shame to the other nobles.

The family’s adherence to the Church Of The Walls was another tarnish to the Erhardts’ reputation. Heinrich had been a staunch believer and credited the goddesses for his providence. His descendants inherited his fortune and faith. Sisi’s parents were generous tithers while her sisters were devoted missionaries. Sisi herself had doubts. Every once in a while, the memories of That Day in Shiganshina would resurface. Sisi could still see the Colossal Titan looming over the wall and hear the screams of the wounded and dying. Why would any goddess allow such pain and suffering? But every day, she put on her necklace with the three goddesses dangling from a golden chain. Just in case.

Thus were the Erhardts on the fringes of noble society. They were too wealthy for the others to ignore, but too unconventional to be fully welcomed into their ranks. The nobles were jealous of their rapid rise and wary of their faith. They only tolerated the Erhardts because the etiquette demanded it. No one truly loved the Erhardts.

However, the Erhardts did have two graces: their daughters and their dances. Sisi’s mother had famously declared that her three daughters were the goddesses incarnate. Such was their beauty. All three girls had been blessed with blonde hair and soft blue eyes. Sisi paled in contrast to Karoline and especially Pauline, but even she wasn’t altogether hopeless. Any lord would be glad to marry an Erhardt.

The Erhardts were equally famed for their dances. Sisi’s grandfather had spared no expense when building the family manor. Every centimeter of the house was as modern and luxurious as decorum allowed. He had also built a lavish ballroom in the house’s west wing. It was the envy of many a house. The Erhardts would host opulent balls once a month. Every noble in Wall Sina would attend. The lords would wear their finest suits and the ladies their most splendid gowns. They would socialize and dance from dusk to dawn.

Sisi detested the entire affair.

But it was the only leverage her family had in the political world. Sisi’s father would never admit it, but Sisi knew how displeased he was by the Erhardts’ lot. Gerald Erhardt equaled his father in ambition and cunning. He would do whatever it took to leverage the family name. If hosting monthly dances was what it took, then so be it.

Thus did Sisi walk down the stairwell toward the west wing. She gazed at the paintings on the wall. There was her grandfather–young, strong, and proud, nothing like the gruff old man that Sisi dimly remembered. Next to him was a rural scene from somewhere in Wall Rose. Then there was Sisi’s grandmother, who had died long before Sisi was born. Close to the bottom of the staircase was the newest painting: a portrait of Sisi’s father. He appeared the perfect image of nobility: dressed in finery, his blond hair neatly combed and his mustache curled.

His stern eyes seemed to follow Sisi down the stairs. Your future awaits, he seemed to say. Don’t ruin it.

Sisi shuddered.

The painting at the bottom of the stairs was Sisi’s favorite. It was a portrait of Sisi and her two sisters as children. Her father had commissioned it after the girls returned unscathed from Shiganshina. Tomorrow is not a given, he had said to Sisi’s mother. I want to remember my goddesses the way they are in life.

It was the closest he had ever come to saying that he loved his children.

Sisi traced the painting with her finger. The artist had done a fine job. Sisi and her sisters’ painted faces all had the same serene, almost angelic look. Sisi’s favorite feature, though, was the intricate golden frame around the painting. Flowers and butterflies had been carved into the gold-plated wood. At the bottom of the painting was a small plate engraved Die Drei Annas.

The Three Annas.

All three Erhardt children were christened Anna, as was the custom. Each girl had a unique middle name and was referred to as such. Sisi had a handful of names. Her parents and instructors called her Elisabeth. Her sisters did as well, but only if her behavior exasperated them. Karoline would combine Anna Elisabeth into Anneliese. Sisi, though, preferred the nickname that young Pauline’s lisp had caused...

“Sisi!”

Sisi started.

Pauline and Karoline stood at the bottom of the staircase. Pauline had her hands on her hips. “By the goddesses! Will you please hurry? We are going to be late! Mother and Father will be furious!”

Sisi gulped. She hitched the hem of her dress beneath her hands and hurried after her sisters.

As Pauline had feared, the ball was in full swing by the time the sisters arrived. An orchestra played a dignified tune. Women and men in finery filled the venue. Their conversations and manners were so poised that Sisi could barely hear their polite laughter and clinks of their champagne glasses.

In the center of the room stood Sisi’s parents. Her father was deep in conversation with Paul Aurille. His mustache was thinner and his face more wrinkled than his portrait portrayed, but he still held himself with the proud distinction of an Erhardt. Sisi’s mother stood by his side. She was herself a beauty. Her chestnut hair accentuated the glow of her milk-white skin. She also had the same deep blue eyes as her daughters. At that moment, they were scanning the room. She then saw Pauline, Karoline, and Sisi. Her lovely eyes narrowed.

Pauline and Karoline immediately pointed at Sisi.

“Hey!” Sisi protested.

Sisi’s mother sighed. She beckoned with her right hand.

All three sisters strode across the room. Sisi tried to look as dignified as a lady should. She imitated her father’s straight back and tilted her nose in the air. She felt entirely ridiculous.

But, for once, her mother did not criticize her for a lack of composure. Instead, she looked back and forth at Pauline, Karoline, and Sisi. “We will discuss your timeliness–” she stared pointedly at Sisi– “–in due time. Karoline, Elisabeth, I have selected targets for you. I want Karoline to speak with Manuel Weber. I last saw him near the orchestra.”

Sisi’s nose wrinkled. Manuel was a short and thin man with a pompous nose and a braying laugh. But the prospect seemed to delight Karoline. Her eyes brightened, and she had to fight to suppress a smile.

“Elisabeth–” Sisi’s mother’s eyes latched sternly onto her– “– I want you to find Siegmund Olszewski.”

“Siegmund?” Sisi couldn’t help asking. “Isn’t he engaged to Theresia Berg?”

Karoline frowned. “He was. I had heard that Theresia had the pox. Was she scarred?”

“Mind yourself, Karoline,” Sisi’s mother warned. “Gossip is unbecoming in a lady.” She glanced around. “But you are correct. Theresia Berg’s face was marred, and Lord Olszewski broke the engagement. You would be a suitable candidate to replace her, Elisabeth.”

Sisi nodded slowly. She couldn’t think of a time that she had ever spoken with Siegmund. She had seen him many times over the years, but the two had never mingled. He had always seemed the quiet sort. He stayed to himself and hardly ever spoke, not even to other men. That was all Sisi knew about him. The idea of getting to know him better was intriguing.

“I saw him last by the door.” Sisi’s mother nodded in that direction. “Go find him. And for the goddesses’ sake, mind your manners.”

Sisi dutifully curtsied and left.

Siegmund was indeed standing near the door. His eyes were fixated on the orchestra as Sisi approached.

Sisi joined Siegmund in polite applause as the orchestra finished their tune. She turned toward him. “What piece was that? The Fluss Waltz?”

Siegmund shook his head. “The Moonlight Waltz.”

Sisi bit her lip. The conversation was already off to a bad start.

“But they share a composer. Gustav Straatmann, I believe it was.” Siegmund turned toward Sisi. “Not bad.”

Sisi felt her cheeks flush.

The orchestra then began a new tune.

“Now that–” Siegmund grinned– “–is The Fluss Walz.”

You’re kidding me! Sisi nearly burst. Fortunately, she remembered herself. “My goodness! The conductor must have read my mind!”

The two laughed softly.

“Siegmund! I thought that was you.” Klaus Deltoff strode toward Siegmund and Sisi. Sisi’s stomach lurched. She was not overfond of the man. He was rather short-minded and tended to speak as if he held all the answers. These were two of the tendencies that Sisi despised the most.

Siegmund, however, nodded respectfully as Deltoff joined the conversation. “Lord Deltoff. I heard from Father that you plan to grow wheat on your estate this year?”

“He would be correct. The population has only grown since the fall of Wall Maria.” Deltoff shook his head. “Those Mariens breed like rabbits.”

Sisi made a face.

“Lord Deltoff, remember yourself.” Siegmund looked pointedly at Sisi. “We are in the presence of a lady.”

“My apologies, Lady Elisabeth.” Deltoff peered down at Sisi. “I hadn’t seen you there.”

“All’s well, Lord Deltoff.” Sisi bit her tongue to maintain her composure. “How do you find tonight’s festivities?”

“Your father has outdone himself.” Deltoff gestured around the room. “The music is a fine touch.”

“Sieg–Lord Olszewski and I were just discussing the music.” Sisi fanned herself. “I quite enjoy the works of Steinberg.”

“Straatmann,” corrected Siegmund.

Sisi gulped. She thought fast. “I don’t enjoy him as well as I should, then, do I?”

Siegmund and Deltoff laughed politely.

“Your father tells me that you are studying medicine in Mitras,” Deltoff said. “How do you find it?”

“I wouldn’t call it medicine.” Sisi shook her head. “I think the proper word for the program is nursing. I should know, but it’s not like I’m actually going to use what I learn, and we don’t bother to learn much. Mother and Father thought the program would make me a more suitable candidate for marriage. They were going to send me to Einrich College, but they accept students from everywhere across Wall Sina and even Wall Rose and, well, we can’t have a lady intermingling with commoners now, can we? So I study at the Universitätsmedizin institute. They aren’t as serious as Einrich College, but it’s far more prestigious. It’s just noblewomen from Wall Sina. It suits me there. I’m almost done with my first year. We haven’t learned too much yet, just how to wrap bandages and what makes a head different from a leg–”

Deltoff raised an eyebrow. “I meant the city of Mitras.”

“My–” Sisi bit her tongue. “My apologies. Mitras is quite…” She took a moment to think. The buildings were all quite grand, and there were important people wherever she looked. But there were thieves in the streets and, on especially warm days, the stink of the Underground filled the city. One could find codeine and other illicit substances if they wished–even in the heart of Mitras itself, where the royals themselves lived! And everyone there was so damn concerned with etiquette. Sisi felt more stifled there than she did in a ballroom of all places.

“It’s something,” she decided. “It’s different from Stohess.”

The answer seemed to please Lord Deltoff. “That it is. I enjoy my business there.”

“I heard that they have an impressive royal gallery.” Siegmund took a sip of champagne. “I appreciate the arts.”

“So–” Sisi nearly gushed. But, for once, she remembered her place. She cleared her throat. “I do as well. I’ve been to the gallery many times. They have works by Kallhoff and Latier.”

“Do you mean Klaves and Lautmann?” Siegmund teased.

“I appreciate art more than I do music.” Sisi smiled. There was no reason for her to put on a facade. “I love Latier. Good King Fritz recently donated a portrait of Queen Ida to the gallery. Latier had such a way with faces, didn’t he?”

“Latier painted my grandfather.” Siegmund’s eyes brightened. “The picture still hangs in our manor. It’s my favorite depiction of him.”

“People in his paintings glow with life.” Sisi smiled. “I like to look at that painting in the gallery. I imagine I’m having an audience with Queen Ida herself.”

Siegmund nodded slowly. “I wish I could paint half as well as Latier did.”

“So do I.” Sisi sighed. “Mother did hire me a tutor from Mitras. She says she wants to cultivate the one talent I have. But I have much to learn before I can compare to Latier.”

Siegmund raised an eyebrow. “You paint?”

“For pleasure, not profession.” Sisi laughed behind her hand. “I have painted miniatures of Pauline and Karoline for their birthdays. I also wish to paint Mother and Father for their anniversary. But right now I’m working on a picture of Comm–”

“Ah, the pleasures of youth,” interrupted Deltoff. “I remember the days when I had the time to be concerned with such pleasures.”

Sisi bit her tongue before she said something she knew she would regret. Her ribs ached from her corset.

“Do you concern yourself with anything beyond Mitras?” Siegmund laughed.

Deltoff shook his head. “I haven’t the time. The world as we know it is getting smaller and more dangerous every day.”

“That it is.” Siegmund nodded seriously. “I read the papers. There was a scare in Trost last week.”

Sisi turned toward Siegmund. “There was?”

“The Garrison reported that an especially large Titan was seen lumbering toward the Wall,” explained Deltoff. “Soldiers on the Wall panicked. They thought the Colossal Titan had returned. Fortunately, their commander was able to stop the situation before it got out of hand.”

“Fools,” sniffed Sisi.

Siegmund and Deltoff turned toward her.

“I’ve seen the Colossal Titan.” Sisi shrugged. “It’s taller than any wall. It tore out chunks of Wall Maria and threw them throughout Shiganshina.” She shuddered. “No other Titan could compare. They’d know him if they saw him.”

“You can’t expect such reasoning from common soldiers,” Deltoff sighed. “I almost regret that the Military Police serve the interior instead of the frontier.”

“Such bright minds are better used serving the King.” Siegmund took another sip of champagne. “It would be a waste if they were all sent to die out there on the frontier.”

“I’ll give the Garrison credit where it’s due.” Deltoff turned toward the orchestra as they finished Straatmann’s waltz. “The soldiers there aren’t the cream of the crop, but they are reasonable to an extent. The irredeemable cadets all join the Survey Corps.”

The Survey Corps.

Sisi’s blood turned to ice. She became conscious of her heart beating in her chest. The conversation was heading into very dangerous territory.

Siegmund, however, took no notice. “The Survey Corps? I would have thought that the children had learned their lessons by now.”

“You would think,” agreed Deltoff. “Many have. Survey Corps recruitment is at an all-time low. It’s getting harder and harder for their commander to justify their expenses, let alone their existence.” He spat the word commander like it was a curse.

Sisi bit her tongue.

“As he should.” Siegmund shook his head. “Our taxes could be better spent than on the Scouts. My pockets only fatten them up for slaughter!”

“Give the commander credit where it’s due,” Sisi snapped.

Siegmund and Deltoff stared at Sisi.

Sisi gulped. “I mean…Well, I, I don’t exactly approve of their existence,” she lied, “but Commander Smith hasn’t been all bad.”

“What good has he done, Elisabeth?” Siegmund scoffed. “Remind me, Lord Deltoff. The Scouts want to reclaim land from the Titans, do they not?” He put his hand on his chest and made a mock salute. “Dedicate your heart! Fight for the cause!”

“So they say,” Deltoff said dryly.

“Tell me, Elisabeth.” Siegmund turned to Sisi. “What land have the Scouts reclaimed? How close are we to winning back Wall Maria?”

“There has not been much accomplished,” Sisi had to admit. “But I, too, read the papers. I remember the days of the old commander–tell me, Lord Deltoff, what was his name?”

“Keith Shadis.”

“Keith Shadis. I even saw him that day in Shiganshina.” Sisi fanned herself. “It was a disgraceful sight. He lost every man in his regiment that day. Entire squadrons were wiped out. He sobbed like a child in front of a fallen soldier’s mother. Every survivor from that expedition was from Erwin Smith’s regiment. And I, too, read the papers.” She looked at Siegmund. “The Scouts have made a battalion route from Trost to Rosenheim village. Mortality rates from these expeditions are thirty percent. That is high, yes, but do you recall the mortality rates under Keith Shadis?”

Siegmund shook his head.

“Eighty-seven percent,” said Deltoff.

“Thank you, Deltoff–Lord Deltoff.” Sisi felt her composure weakening. She bit her tongue again. “From eighty-seven percent to thirty percent. Wouldn’t you call that an improvement? Give the commander your graces where you can. It improves your argument when you see it from all angles. Also, you didn’t do the right salute. You put your left hand to your chest. You’re supposed to use your right. You also don’t use your full hand–you make a fist, like so, and put it to your chest.” She demonstrated. “Dedicate your heart! Now you try.”

Siegmund had gone white in the face.

“I had no idea you were a military strategist, Lady Elisabeth,” laughed Deltoff. There was no mirth in his face. “Answer me, then, if you are so wise. What good does an expedition trail do? Does it bring the Survey Corps any closer to defeating the Titans?”

“It brings us closer to Wall Maria, does it not?”

“Say the Scouts do reach Wall Maria and reclaim the land for humanity.” Deltoff coldly surveyed Sisi. “In however many years it takes. What is the guarantee that these so-called Armored and Colossal Titans will not return and break the walls again? Would you then send the Scouts back out to re-reclaim the Wall?”

“Think, Elisabeth,” Siegmund agreed. “It doesn’t matter how many Titans there are. More will come. We still don’t know where they come from, how they work, or anything that can eradicate them from this world. There’s no promise that reclaiming Wall Maria will keep them from returning and killing us all. Mankind cannot win against the Titans. It’s wiser to protect what still remains.”

“Well said.” Deltoff nodded approvingly.

Sisi bit her tongue so hard that she tasted blood. Her heart pounded. Siegmund and Deltoff–fools, the both of them. Why couldn’t they see past their own noses? How could they condemn such a noble mission?

“You say we cannot win,” she said through gritted teeth. It was her last attempt to maintain her composure. “I disagree.”

Siegmund raised an eyebrow. “Do you now.”

“Yes, I do.” Sisi evenly returned his stare. “There is already promise. The mortality rates are reduced. We’ve made a path through Marien territory! Captain Levi slaughters Titans everywhere he goes. Commander Smith makes sound plans. They’re unstoppable–the Titans will give in, it’s only a matter of time!”

Siegmund and Deltoff stared at Sisi.

“And I, for one, do not care about the time it takes,” continued Sisi. “I don’t care if it’s achieved in my lifetime or not. If my children and grandchildren can live in a free world without Titans in it, I say that every cent that goes into their coffers is a cent well spent.”

“Children and grandchildren?” Siegmund looked coldly at Sisi. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Praise your goddesses if you find a man dumb enough to marry you.” He nodded curtly at Deltoff. “I must be on my way. Good evening, sir.”

Sisi stared after Siegmund as he walked away.

“I should do the same. “Deltoff turned to leave. He then glanced over his shoulder. “I advise you to keep away from the newspapers. These ideas of yours will never get you anywhere in life. It would be a shame to see you a spinster.”

““I–” Sisi struggled to speak through her rage. “I will certainly do so. Sir.”

“Oh, and give my regards to your father, Lady Elisabeth.” Deltoff smiled. “Tell him that I quite enjoyed the orchestra.”

“How was your evening?” asked Pauline.

“It–” Karoline twirled as she walked up the steps. “It was wonderful,” she gushed. She held a handkerchief to her cheek. “Manuel is such a gentleman. We danced to the music and laughed and…and it was so wonderful, Pauline. I’m certain he’s the one!”

“Good, good.” Pauline smiled. She then turned to Sisi. “And yours?”

Sisi crossed her arms.

Pauline sighed. Karoline slapped her forehead.

“He’s terrible,” Sisi moaned. “He doesn’t want to have a reasonable discussion. He only wants me to agree with him on everything! Goddesses forgive me if I have a mind of my own!”

“That’s the point, Anneliese,” said Karoline. She looked over the railing as she approached the top step. “You agree with him on everything. That’s the only way any man will see a future with you.”

“Then he won’t actually like me, will he?” Sisi protested. “He’ll just love this idea of me. He’ll love…some stupid, air-headed, ditz-minded doll!”

“Love plays no negotiations in these matters, Elisabeth.” Pauline put her arm on Sisi’s shoulder. “It comes in time. You just have to play the fool until then.”

“You’re good enough at it already.” Karoline smiled. “You make a fool of yourself every time you talk to a man!”

“Ugh!” Sisi stomped her foot.

“Next month–” Pauline turned toward Sisi as she reached the upstairs. “Try doing this. Think of anything you would usually say, and don’t say it. Be the fool, just for one night. I’m certain you’ll find your partner then.”

Sisi pouted.

“Go to sleep.” Karoline yawned. “Start again tomorrow.”

Sisi stomped into her bedroom. She leaned against her door and sighed. What a night. What a terrible night.

“Stupid balls,” she grumbled to thin air. “Stupid Siegmund. Stupid Deltoff. Stupid Pauline and Karoline–” She took off her gloves and threw them against the wall. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

The gloves landed on the floor in a heap.

Sisi undid her dress. She sighed with relief as she finally loosened her corset. She tore it off and threw it on top of her gloves. The corset was soon followed by the rest of her gown, her shoes, and her garters.

Sisi fumbled in her drawer for a nightgown. She pulled one out and sniffed it. Fresh linen was one of her favorite scents. She needed the comfort after such a terrible evening.

What had she done wrong, she asked herself as she shrugged into her nightgown. Was it a crime to disagree with someone? Sisi couldn’t see the fault in that. Over such a trivial matter, too–whether or not the Scouts were entirely worthless. Which they weren’t. Sisi was certain of it.

The Scouts…

Yes, there was the comfort Sisi needed. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure her door was firmly closed. She then crouched on the floor and crawled beneath her bed.

This crawlspace was her sanctuary.

Over the past several years, Sisi had amassed a sizable collection of Survey Corps memorabilia. She had plastered everything to her bedframe. Sisi looked for her favorite pieces. It was hard to see anything, with only the dim moonlight to illuminate her room. It didn’t matter. Sisi knew where everything was and had memorized every single detail.

She put her finger against one space. That was the portrait of Captain Levi from the paper. He was so ruthless. So dreamy. So unlike the bores at the ball. Next to it was the article about the Scouts reaching Rosenheim village–an unprecedented feat, as even the newspaper had to admit. Countless other newspaper clippings had been posted around it–Survey Corps Mortality Decreases! How Does ODM Gear Actually Work? The Physical Requirements to Be A Scout, which Sisi had memorized to a T. She had highlighted every requirement: one had to be a good runner, one had to have strong hips, one had to be agile, and one had to have incredibly strong legs. Beneath it was an unrelated clipping from one of Sisi’s textbooks: Exercises To Strengthen Legs And Abdominal Regions.

Sisi briefly considered doing the exercises, but decided against it. She had already done them earlier that day. She completed them every day. And what would happen if her sisters walked in on her doing sit-ups on the floor? They would certainly run to Mother or Father, and then–

Sisi shuddered. She looked back at her collection. Further up on her bedframe, near the headboard, was an emblem of the Flügel der Freiheit, the Wings of Freedom themselves. Beneath that was another newspaper drawing of Commander Erwin Smith.

Sisi traced the commander’s face with her finger. She sighed as dreamily as Karoline had. Other than those terrible eyebrows, he was such a man. So smart, too. Who could reduce the mortality rates of Marien expeditions as he had? He was accomplished, he was intelligent…he was everything Sisi admired in a man.

He certainly wouldn’t treat Sisi the way her family and suitors did.

Sisi sighed. She leaned back against the floor. “Stupid,” she muttered to the portrait of the commander. “They’re all stupid, aren’t they? I don’t want to spend the rest of my life going to balls and pretending to be an air-headed, half-witted imbecile. I’m not a lady. I’m not anything like the other people in this Wall.” She stared into the commander’s face. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she whispered. “I have to join the Scouts.”

The commander’s printed face stared back at her.

“And I will. Someday. I promise, Commander.” Sisi put her right fist to her heart. “I swear on my life. I dedicate my heart to your cause!”

There was no reply.

Sisi crawled out from beneath her bed before anyone could walk in on her. She’d be in a world of trouble, then, if she weren’t in one already. Her parents would undoubtedly be furious with her for ruining another potential betrothal. There were only so many bachelors in Wall Sina, after all…

But that was a matter for the morning. Sisi climbed into bed and tucked herself beneath the satin sheets. She was asleep within minutes.

Chapter Text

“Good morning, sir.” Theo saluted as he entered the commander’s office. “You wanted to see me?”

“I did.” The commander didn’t look up from his desk. “Take a seat.”

Theo pursed his lips. The day was already off to a bad start. He had overslept and missed breakfast. Moblit Brenner had been kind enough to save him a roll. It was so stale that it was almost inedible. Theo’s teeth had crunched around the bread. His jaw still ached. His stomach was still grumbling. It was not the best way to start the morning. 

Theo reminded himself not to be overly angry. Only he was to blame for his predicament.

He had dreamed that night.

Theo was used to bad dreams. At least once a week, he would be taken back to the worst moments of his life. He’d be back in Marien territory, watching his friends and brothers-in-arms disappear into Titans’ mouths. His ears would be filled with the screams of the wounded and dying. Titans would lumber towards him, their grotesque mouths opening wide–and then he would wake up, gasping, with his skin and sheets soaked with sweat. But Theo had adjusted to such dreams. They weren’t exactly pleasant, but he knew how to deal with them.

That night, though, Theo had dreamed about Shiganshina.

Theo tried not to remember Shiganshina. He didn’t allow himself to think any more than necessary about that terrible day. But his dreams betrayed him. Theo was eighteen again and running through the cobblestone streets. Stones flew overhead. Screams filled the air. People next to Theo were crushed by boulders or were plucked off the streets and thrown into Titans’ mouths. It was all as Theo remembered it.

But then he saw Louise.

His fiancée stood in the middle of the street. She was dressed in a bridal gown and veil. Her long brown hair was undone and danced in the wind. She had never been beautiful–far from it, in fact–but she looked radiant in that moment. Angelic, even.

And furious.

Louise took a step toward Theo. I know what you’ve done, she spat. I know what you did. You’re a monster, Theophilus!

Theo had raised his hands. I don’t know what you’re talking about, he tried to protest.

Yes, you do. Louise raised her hands.

The cobblestones beneath Theo’s feet started to shake. He collapsed to his knees in the middle of the street. He knelt beneath Louise and stared up at her in terror. Forgive me, Louise! I didn’t mean–

Louise hovered in the air. Her dress and veil billowed in the wind. Her face glowed as bright as the sun, and her voice roared like thunder. You shouldn’t be alive, Theophilus Schoeber. You don’t deserve to live! Why am I dead and you alive? What have you done to deserve to live?

Theo hadn’t been able to speak. He desperately willed himself to snap out of whatever stupor he was in.

Louise then lunged at him. Now it’s your time to die!

Theo woke up right before she reached him. He had taken quite a while to regain his senses–by which time he realized that he had slept through the morning bugle and none of his comrades had bothered to wake him.

No, the morning couldn’t get any worse.

“–sit?”

Theo started. “Excuse me?”

The commander frowned. “I said you could sit.”

“Right.” Theo cursed himself. He had promised himself that he would make a positive impression on the commander, and here he was, stabbing himself in the foot. But what was done couldn’t be undone. So he took a seat across from the commander. “What did you need?”

The commander looked up at Theo for the first time. “I’m leading a reconnaissance mission tomorrow. We need to discuss strategy.”

Theo fought to suppress his delight. His fears from yesterday had been misguided, after all. The commander trusted Theo enough to discuss military strategy with him!

“But first–” The commander set a wooden box on the desktop. “Humor me.”

Theo fought even harder to hide his disgust.

Every Scout was an oddity. After all, only lunatics would dare sacrifice their lives for humanity’s sake. The few people who entered the Survey Corps sane developed unique quirks or obsessions to keep their minds off the hell they experienced. Miche sniffed everyone. Levi was obsessed with cleaning. Moblit chewed his nails. Hange was…Hange.

The commander played chess.

The other captains had been quick to warn Theo. He’d play it every minute if you’d let him, Moblit had complained. He’s always looking for a playing partner.

Why? Theo had asked.

Hard to say. Petra had looked up from the window. Some think it’s a distraction. He has a lot on his mind, after all, and he doesn’t have the luxury to drink himself senseless. Playing chess could help him relax.

I think it’s a test, said Moblit. The commander isn’t the most direct man. He doesn’t come straight out and say, I want to know how you’d react if we did this-or-that on a reconnaissance mission. Instead, he plays you in chess and sees what you’d do in a battle.

Don’t play chess with him unless he asks you, Petra cautioned. It’s a nightmare. He’ll keep you there for hours, and he’ll win every game. She made a face. I’m speaking from experience.

I’d prefer to fight the Titans, Moblit had agreed. At least the end would be quick.

Theo had dismissed his comrades’ warnings. They were just overreacting, as per usual. Theo was just as brilliant as they were, if not smarter. He was sure that he could equal the commander in chess. It didn’t matter that he had never heard of chess before. He was Theo Schoeber, goddamn it. He was the top student in Wulfshausen, a Shiganshina survivor, and a veteran of the Marien reclamation. He was a force to be reckoned with.

Accordingly, Theo had gladly accepted the commander's first request for a chess game. He listened to the commanders’ explanation of chess’s rules with a smile on his face. This was his moment to shine. He was about to prove just how smart and capable he truly was!

The two played chess for only one hour. They had played thirty-four games during that time. The commander won all of them.

Theo had known the commander for two years now. The two had played countless chess matches. Theo had never managed to defeat the commander. He had come close a handful of times. Once, he’d even managed to corner the commander’s king. But the commander outfoxed Theo in the end. He always did. It was humiliating. Insulting, even.

It was the last thing Theo wanted to do that day.

However, Theo wanted to make a good impression on the commander. He might not win a game, but he could humor the commander. That was better than nothing.

And so Theo gritted his teeth. He forced a smile. “Of course, sir.” He unfolded the chessboard. “Black or white?”

“I’ll take black.” The commander set his pieces on the board.

Theo’s heart sank. White pieces moved first. He’d be at a disadvantage. The commander would have a sense of Theo’s strategy before Theo could make any concrete plans. Theo was sure to lose.

But, as Theo reminded himself, arguing with the commander wouldn’t make a good impression. He could only array the white game pieces on his side of the board. He tried to think of a sound strategy. He stood little chance of defeating the commander, but he wanted to go down in honor. In the end, he put his rooks on the board’s corner pieces. Then came the knights and bishops. The queen went on a white square, and the king went on the last remaining place. The pawns were far easier–they went on the second row to protect the key pieces from attack.

The commander thoughtfully observed Theo’s placement of the game pieces.

Theo pursed his lips. Please, God, he prayed. I don’t ask you for many favors. I’m asking for one now. Please don’t let me make a fool out of myself. I’m not even asking you to let me win this. I just don’t want to be humiliated. Again.

The commander folded his hands as he awaited Theo’s first move.

Theo moved his first pawn forward one space.

The commander moved a pawn two spaces.

Theo took a moment to think. What plan did the commander have? He took the offensive more often than he played defense. But he could be trying to catch Theo by surprise. He’d done it before.

There was no way to tell from the first move alone. So Theo moved the pawn in the opposite corner one space forward.

The commander moved another pawn two spaces forward. Both of his pieces were side-by-side.

Theo pursed his lips. He still had no idea what the commander’s strategy was. He moved another pawn two spaces forward.

The commander set his knight.

Theo stared at the knight for a long moment. The commander seemed to be retaking the offensive. He moved his first pawn forward one space to test his theory.

The commander played his second knight.

Theo tried to hide his satisfaction. He had picked up on the commander’s strategy. The commander was trying to play Theo for a fool. He thought that Theo wasn’t brash enough to take the offensive.

The commander had thought wrong.

Theo grinned as he moved his pawn.

The commander didn’t hesitate and moved his knight across the board.

Theo wasn’t moved. The commander was trying to force Theo back into defense. Theo wouldn’t let him get his way. He moved a new pawn forward two spaces. He was inching closer and closer to the commander’s side of the board.

The commander moved his pawn diagonally and took out Theo’s piece.

Theo started. “Pawns can’t move that way!”

“They can in certain cases.” The commander set the captured white piece on his side of the desk. “That was one case. You moved your pawn forward two spaces–” he traced the path on the chessboard– “–which set it next to my pawn. That allowed me to play my pawn into the square you skipped. I captured your pawn in the process.”

“That’s a rule?” Theo asked weakly.

The commander nodded. “It’s a capture en passant. Your turn.”

“Incredible,” Theo muttered to himself. He moved his first pawn forward one space. He was only five moves into the game, and he was already making a fool of himself.

His predicament only became worse, as he noticed–too late–that the commander’s queen was fully exposed. The commander didn’t hesitate to slide the queen across the board and take out another one of Theo’s pawns.

Theo gritted his teeth. But he had to try to keep his cool. So he played his rook forward four spaces.

The commander played his queen one square diagonally. He then looked up at Theo. “Checkmate.”

“What?”

The commander traced the path with his finger. “Your king is trapped. Checkmate.”

Theo sighed. “You’re right.” He moved his pieces back into their places. “Is that all?”

“Let’s play one more game.” The commander surveyed the board. “Your move.”

The two played seven more games.

The commander won all seven of them.

God had not heeded Theo’s prayers. He didn’t stand a chance. The commander dismantled Theo’s pieces with ease. He guessed Theo’s strategies before Theo had time to work them out. It was another humiliation.

It took ages for the commander to tire of tormenting Theo. He finally started to pack up the board.

Theo exhaled, relieved. He gladly swept his pieces off the board and into a small pile. “Now!” he said brightly. “What strategies are we going to discuss?”

“Tomorrow’s objective is to expand our route south from Rosenheim.” The commander took Theo’s chess pieces. “Let’s cut to the chase here. The Scouts need results. The civilians barely support our cause, and the military never has. We need to prove that we stand a chance against the Titans.”

“And we do.” Theo adjusted his cravat. “We just have to make them see it.”

“The goal is to reach Ohnan. That’s four kilometers south of Rosenheim.” Noticing Theo’s expression, the commander put his hands together. “It is ambitious. But if we succeed, our existence will be safe.”

“And if we don’t?”

The commander ignored the question. “The stakes are high. We have to take the initiative if we’re going to win this. We must also expect the Titans to be on the attack. The lands south of Rosenheim are festering with Titans. They’re not going to pass on an easy meal.” He put the chess pieces into the box. “It’s a unique situation. We can’t afford to be on the defensive.”

“That's why we played chess. You wanted to see how I react when I can't play defensive,” Theo realized. He put his hand to his forehead.

“Thank you for humoring me.” The commander closed the chess box. “You’re dismissed.”

“I can’t believe it,” Theo muttered to himself. He stood up and pushed his chair backward. His chair scraped roughly against the floor.

The commander looked up.

Theo forced a smile. “Good day, sir.” He saluted and left.

“–and I don’t understand,” he complained later to Moblit at dinner. “Why chess? Why’s that the test that Commander Erwin wants to use? He beats everyone. It’s not a fair fight!”

“Erwin knows that.” Moblit chewed on his crust of bread. “He also knows that you know that.”

“Then why–” Theo began.

Moblit looked around. He then leaned closer to Theo and lowered his voice. “Tell no one that you heard this. Promise?”

Theo nodded.

“I overheard Erwin and Levi,” Moblit whispered. He took another furtive glance over his shoulder. “It was earlier this afternoon. They were talking about you.”

“They were?”

“Shh!” Moblit hissed. “No one else can hear this!”

“Understood.” Theo leaned closer to Moblit. “I’m listening.”

“Erwin likes your way with words,” Moblit hissed. “He says your letters are the only reason we still have funding.”

“He did?”

“Shh! Erwin said, too, that you’re very ambitious. He likes that. But he said…” Moblit hesitated. “And please don’t get angry.”

Theo shrugged. “Why would I?”

“Erwin said you’re too reactionary to be a leader.”

Theo nearly jumped out of his seat.

“I’m not done!” Moblit hissed. “Erwin said that you’re smart and good at making plans, but you forget your plans as soon as you have to use them. He says you’ve got great promise.” He hesitated a moment. “He’s not giving up on you. But he’s sending Hange and Miche on tomorrow’s mission. You’re staying behind.”

Theo did jump out of his seat.

A few Scouts turned. The commander glanced up from his table.

“I, um–” Theo cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Moblit,” he said in a strained voice. “I don’t think my supper’s agreeing with me. I’m going to find the latrines.”

Moblit nodded slowly. “I’ll see you at the barracks.”

“See you there.” Theo nodded. He turned and stormed out of the mess hall.

He felt the commander’s eyes follow him outside.

Too reactionary. Too emotional. The words cut deeper than Titans’ teeth. You can’t be a leader. You’re staying behind.

That hurt worse than anything. To be a mere soldier on the battlefield was low, yes, but it was a chance to prove himself. It was an opportunity for Theo to justify his position and his survival. The commander wouldn’t even give Theo that much. He was going to keep Theo locked away at the headquarters.

Theo stomped to the barracks. He hated the commander. He hated Titans and stale bread and whatever slop he had consumed for dinner. He hated Miche and Hange for taking the leadership roles that were rightfully his. Theo could be a leader. He knew it. He didn’t know why the commander wouldn’t give him a chance.

How Louise must be laughing at him.

Theo kicked a clod of dirt. It rolled against the side of the barracks. He stood still for a moment, his hands balled into fists. He then felt his back droop. It was hopeless. It was entirely hopeless. He couldn’t convince the commander to let him fight. He couldn’t do anything to prove himself worthy of a leadership role.

He would just have to hope that either Miche or Hange would fall in battle. The commander would have no choice but to promote Theo then.

Theo slunk toward his bunk and lay down. His future was entirely out of his hands. There was even a possibility that he wouldn’t have a future.

All because of chess.

How Theo hated chess.

Chapter Text

Beatrice rose with the sun. She yawned and stretched, taking care not to hit her head against the ceiling. Her bedroom was a repurposed storeroom in the bakery's attic, and there was precious little space to move around. It irritated Beatrice to no end.

Her living situation was otherwise favorable. This was in no small part due to the bakery owner Klara Schmid's benevolence. Beatrice believed that no better landlord or baker could be found in Mitras. Klara had singlehandedly kept the Schmidt bakery open after her husband's passing some seven years prior. Patrons even whispered that she had improved the bakery's output. Unlike other bakeries in Mitras, which specialized in breads and buns, the Schmid bakery sold an assortment of unique pastries. Klara would often experiment with new preparation methods and even new recipes.

Klara took her craft seriously. She woke early in the morning and worked long into the night. Many a time had Beatrice asked to assist Klara. Klara rarely accepted Beatrice's offer. She would only trust Beatrice to clean or do simple preparations. The actual baking was done by Klara alone.

Beatrice couldn't tell if Klara liked her. The woman was difficult to read. She spoke little and smiled even less. She made no effort to treat Beatrice like family. Beatrice cared not. The woman didn't charge her rent. She didn't begrudge Beatrice for frowning or staying silent. She would allow Beatrice to repurpose day-old bread into Marien klopse dumplings for dinner.

A warm bed. Acceptance. Stale bread.

Beatrice required nothing more than that.

She even found her bedroom sufficient. It was drafty and a little cramped, but she had enough room to store all of her belongings. There was a small rack where Beatrice kept her school uniform, one good dress, three skirts, three blouses, two vests, and two matching ties. She had moved a desk and an old lantern next to the window. Marie's needlework hung from the walls. Medicinal plants hung from the ceiling in various states of preservation. An old quilt served as extra insulation in the winter and, during the warmer seasons, as a makeshift carpet. The thick fabric felt soft beneath Beatrice's feet as she stepped out of bed.

The space beneath Beatrice's bed did not go to waste. That was where Beatrice kept her so-called "valuables." She had developed what she considered to be an efficient storage system. Beatrice stored her medical textbooks, her two pairs of shoes, her good gloves, her best garters, and her makeshift curling iron around the bedframe. Hidden in the middle of the space were her prized possessions: a vial of chloroform, a faux-pearl necklace, her journal, and the transfuser.

The transfuser, in particular, was as valuable to Beatrice as gold. The previous day's success had given her an uncharacteristic spring to her step. She had succeeded; she had proven that medicine could be advanced past its present nature! Countless lives could be saved. No, they would be saved. Beatrice's contraption would not fail them. Beatrice would save them.

Beatrice was about to prove her miraculous survival worthwhile.

She reminded herself, however, not to get too ahead of herself. Perhaps the experiment had been a fluke. She needed to conduct more tests. Now that the weekend had arrived, she had time to run further experiments. She itched to reach the forest as soon as possible. An entire world of possibilities waited in the woods. There would undoubtedly be more fox hunts in the forest. The hunters might even try to snare the few remaining stags. It would be wise to transfuse blood from other creatures as well. A fox's anatomy significantly differed from a deer's. If Beatrice could successfully replicate her procedure on a stag or doe, her invention would gain much-needed credence.

Only then could Beatrice be assured in her invention.

Beatrice briefly debated what to wear. As it was the weekend, she could not wear her nursing attire. She eventually settled on a collared white blouse, her russet vest, and a matching skirt. She almost reached for her curling rod–curled bangs were fashionable amongst her peers–but decided that her hair wasn't worth the effort of lighting a fire, warming the rod, and curling every lock of hair before shaping it into a meticulous updo. A simple braid down the middle of her head, looped underneath itself and secured with a brown ribbon, would suffice. The outfit was a smidge formal for a weekend morning, but it was far better to be over- than underdressed. Such was The Etiquette.

The outfit had the added benefit of being unburdensome if Beatrice made it back into the forest that day. Which Beatrice fully intended to do. However, she had to complete her usual list of chores first. She would also have to see if Klara had any extraordinary tasks in store. When all of that was said and done, the rest of Beatrice's day was hers.

As Beatrice expected, Klara was hard at work when she came downstairs. The woman was twisting balls of dough into wreaths. She glanced up at Beatrice. "Come help me shape the pretzels."

Beatrice rolled up her sleeves. She tore a handful of dough in half and rolled each piece into a strand. She then twisted them together into a wreath. Her method was clumsier and far less time-efficient than Klara's, but it got the job done.

"I'll need you to run to the Marktplatz," continued Klara as she worked. She dunked the pretzels into a lye bath. "We'll need as many nuts as you can find."

"Nuts?" Beatrice asked. "What for?"

Klara didn't answer.

Beatrice didn't prod. She was used to Klara's secretive ways.

"Have you ever tried a lark pie?"

Beatrice looked at Klara. "Lark pie? As in the bird?"

Klara nodded.

"We rarely ate meat in Eisenbach." Beatrice set a completed pretzel aside. "When we did, it would either be deer or a fattened pig. We never ate birds—pie, either, for that matter."

"I thought not." Klara set another batch of pretzels in the lye solution. "Before the fall of the Wall, Maria Mitras was famous for its lark pies. Sepp and I would make hundreds every summer. We would roast the larks over a fire, brush them with eggs and herbs, and bake each lark in its own pie. The tradition–" she removed the pretzels from the lye– "–was to eat them during Mittsommer festivities. Families would split one pie. Whoever found the bird's heart in their slice would have luck for the next year."

Beatrice's nose wrinkled.

"Alas," Klara sighed. "The larks were all shipped in from Wall Maria. When we lost Maria, we lost our birds and the pies." She appeared lost in thought for a moment. Then, she stiffened. "I need butter as well."

"How much?"

"Five kilos." Noticing Beatrice's expression, Klara added, "Whatever I don't use today, I'll use on tomorrow's pastries. Do you remember where the money's kept?"

Beatrice had already started walking to the storage room. "On the fifth shelf in the third cabinet."

Klara grunted in assent.

Beatrice opened the cabinet door and strained for the moneybox. She was tall enough not to need a stepstool. It was a blessing and a curse. When she had first moved into the bakery, a customer had given her the unfortunate moniker of The Colossal Titan. Klara was unamused and pulled the man aside for a brief talk. Beatrice never saw him again.

Beatrice took a fistful of coins and put them into her pocket. "Do you want me to leave now?"

"The sooner, the better." Klara moved the treated pretzels onto a baking stone. "Butter's in short supply these days. It'll be a miracle if you return with three kilos."

Beatrice doubted if she would even return with one. She dared not voice the sentiment. "I'll be leaving, then. I'll return as soon as I can."

"Be sure of it," Klara warned as Beatrice left.

It was a cool morning. Beatrice shivered as she hurried down the sidewalk. One unfortunate aspect of life in Wall Sina was the climate. It stayed colder longer and earlier. Spring was little more than a continuation of winter. Beatrice had not yet adjusted to the weather. She doubted she ever would.

And, as the hair on her arms rose, she found herself reminiscing about her childhood days. Springs in Wall Maria were temperate and warm. The sun almost always shone. Multicolored wildflowers grew in the meadows. Beatrice, in her younger days, had loved to run through them and watch their petals fly through the air. Once, she had stepped on a bee and been stung for her carelessness. She had limped home, crying. Her mother leeched the venom with mud, then dressed the wound with crushed parsley and honey.

Honey. Beatrice almost laughed. Bees had cured their own malady. How ironic. There was a lesson to be learned in that, somewhere–and for some brighter mind to determine.

But her heart started to ache. Beatrice didn't often think about the life she left behind. She couldn't allow it. Whenever she spent more than a fleeting moment thinking about her village and her family, she felt her heart start to tear in two. And, as far as Beatrice knew, there was no cure for broken hearts.

Perhaps that could be her next project. Beatrice stiffened. Yes. She would turn her attention toward hearts and their afflictions after she perfected her transfusion process. Then, and only then, could she allow herself to remember the life she left behind.

Beatrice forced all thoughts of Wall Maria out of her mind. That was a luxury for another day. She focused on the air's chill and the mission at hand. She had to buy five kilos of butter and as many nuts as she could find.

Butter and nuts...such items were luxuries in Beatrice's native village. Butter was strictly reserved for lords. Hazelnuts grew in Marien plains, but were strictly reserved for holidays and weddings. Beatrice had never seen walnuts or almonds before she came to Mitras. They weren't even tabletop commodities for the typical Sinan. Beatrice couldn't imagine why Klara was willing to spend a small fortune on those ingredients. She had the idea that Klara had an idea for a new pastry–and that larks were somehow involved. However, she couldn't quite put two and two together. Were the nuts supposed to replace the birds in the pastry shell? Did larks taste like nuts? How could meat taste like nuts?

Before Beatrice knew it, she had reached the Marktplatz.

There was much that Beatrice despised about Sinan life. The one thing she wholeheartedly loved was the Mitras Marktplatz. It was a wonder to behold. An entire city square was filled with vendors and their makeshift booths. Everything in the Known World was for sale. Beatrice would buy produce from the greengrocers, milk and butter from local farmers, and flour from a miller. She would also marvel at the specialized products: artesian cheeses, embroidered handkerchiefs, hair combs, dried fruits, and leather-bound books and journals. Such wealth was unimaginable in Wall Maria. Beatrice still found it hard to wrap her head around.

Beatrice shook her head and gathered her thoughts. She wasn't there to marvel. She had a mission to complete. She also had precious little time to carry it out. She'd wasted enough time on sentiments and reminisces. She couldn't afford any more delays.

Thus, she hoisted her skirt's hem with her right hand and marched into the Marktplatz.

The assorted booths and stalls turned the square into a winding labyrinth. One could easily lose one's way. Beatrice was still unsure where everything was. She did, though, have an idea of the basic format. Butter was at the opposite end of the square. Nuts were adjacent to the dried fruit seller's stall.

Although Beatrice was closer to the nut stall, the butter was of higher importance. Many cows had been slaughtered and their pastureland converted to fields to feed the starving Marien populace. Milk and cheese had doubled in price. Butter was worth its weight in gold. Shortages were chronic. There was no guarantee that the farmers would have any butter at all.

Beatrice took a moment to assess her surroundings before she began the journey to the farmers. She took a left at the greengrocer's stall. She tried not to gag and took a right at the dried fish booth. She marched past the florist.

"Beatrice!"

Beatrice froze. She turned her head to the right.

Wilhelmine Knapp, one of Beatrice's classmates, was standing at the florist's booth. She held a bouquet of red roses. She nodded respectfully at Beatrice. "Well met."

"Well met," Beatrice returned. She walked over to the florist's booth. "What a lovely morning," she said, her voice poised and her words practiced. "What brings you to the Marktplatz?"

Wilhelmine held up her bouquet of roses. "Theresia Berg had the pox. Her fiancé called off their betrothal."

Beatrice had no idea who Theresia Berg was, but felt quite sorry for her situation. To be ill was terrible. To lose one's betrothal was a tragedy. "That is very kind of you," she told Wilhelmine. "I'm sure she will appreciate the flowers."

"Wilhelmine! Well met." Another one of Beatrice's classmates, Dorothea Schubert, joined her and Wilhelmine at the florist's stall. The girl nodded at Beatrice. "Forgive me, but what was your name? Betty?"

"Very close–it's Beatrice." Beatrice adjusted her sleeves. "What brings you to the Marktplatz? Were you also buying flowers for Theresia Berg?"

"I wish I were so kind." Dorothea covered her mouth and chortled. "Ha, ha, ha."

"Ha, ha, ha," echoed Wilhelmine and Beatrice.

"But I mean to make corsages." Dorothea looked at the florist's stall. "Bertrand is taking me to the Operhaus tonight."

Beatrice felt a flash of envy. The Operhaus was regarded as the finest theater within the Walls. Beatrice had heard the rumors–that the ceilings were painted to match the sky and lined with gold trim, that the seats were red velvet and so soft that one almost sank into them, and that the plays themselves were so well-acted that it felt as if they were unfolding before the viewers' very eyes. Beatrice longed to attend. But it was unthinkable. Tickets cost as much as a month's worth of bread. Only the extravagantly wealthy could afford to go.

"What will you see?" asked Wilhelmine.

"They are currently showing Moritz's newest work." Dorothea tossed her head pompously. "I couldn't tell you what it entails."

"Moritz?" Beatrice frowned. "Do you mean Emil Moritz?"

Dorothea turned toward Beatrice. "You've heard of him?"

Beatrice nodded. "I read The Deception of Countess Spenner when I was thirteen. It was a serial in the town paper."

"The Deception of Countess Spenner?" Wilhelmine scoffed. "I could hardly stomach it."

"It is terribly sentimental," Beatrice admitted. "I hadn't known he had written other works."

"As far as my knowledge goes, this is his first play since then." Dorothea shifted on her feet. It was clear that she had places she wanted to be.

Beatrice, too, wished to leave. She decided to end the conversation as civilly as etiquette demanded. "Please, Dorothea, do me a favor and tell me on Monday if Moritz has improved his writing."

"That I shall." Dorothea allowed herself a wry smile. "If I don't die of boredom."

Beatrice and Wilhelmine lightly touched their mouths. "Ha, ha, ha."

"If you will excuse me, I must be leaving." Beatrice tipped her head to Dorothea and Wilhelmine. "Well met, both of you."

"Well met," Dorothea and Wilhelmine echoed as Beatrice left.

Beatrice hurried as fast as her feet and propriety allowed her to go. She cursed herself for forgetting her place. She had wasted far too much time with Dorothea and Wilhelmine. Now, the chances of any butter remaining were slim to none.

Beatrice was quite surprised that Wilhelmine had even greeted her. The Etiquette did require people to greet acquaintances in passing, but Beatrice would not have considered her and Wilhelmine to be acquainted. The two had spent nearly every day over the past five years in the classroom together, but they had spoken only a handful of times. Wilhelmine kept close to Dorothea and Friederike, speaking to hardly anyone else. Dorothea Schubert hadn't even known Beatrice's name.

Speaking to someone other than Klara, though, was a pleasant change from usual. Beatrice couldn't even remember the last time she had a conversation with a classmate or a bakery customer. Two weeks prior? Two months? It was hard to say. Beatrice had never been prone to speaking, not even in Wall Maria. The demands of Sinan etiquette meant that Beatrice seldom spoke at all. Conversation was far too risky. Comradery was nonexistent. Beatrice didn't doubt that Wilhelmine and Dorothea would have turned on her if she had misjudged one word in their conversation just then. She didn't begrudge them. The Etiquette demanded as such.

At least Dorothea and Wilhelmine accepted her enough to talk to her. It could only mean that Beatrice was successfully navigating The Etiquette and its demands.

That mattered to Beatrice almost as much as her invention did.

By sheer luck, the farmer still had butter for sale. He had nowhere near five kilos' worth, but Beatrice managed to leave his stall with two kilos of wrapped butter beneath her arm. She blessed herself for her stroke of luck. Buying this much butter was a miraculous feat. Klara would be pleased.

She then made her way to the nut vendor.

Beatrice had never given much attention to the nut vendor. Klara rarely used nuts in her pastries. The bakery would sell apple-and-walnut braided breads in the fall and almond custard rolls for the winter holidays. Only then would Beatrice be sent to the man's stall.

As Beatrice approached the vendor, a terrible fear struck her. In her haste to leave the bakery, she had forgotten to ask Klara what nuts the baker needed. Her mind swam. What could Klara possibly want? Almonds? Walnuts? Hazelnuts? What nut could replicate the taste of roasted lark? What did lark meat even taste like?

The vendor looked up and saw Beatrice. "Mornin'," he said gruffly. "What do you want?"

Beatrice thought fast. "Almonds," she decided. Honey-coated almonds and marzipan were beloved holiday delicacies. Even if Beatrice had miscalculated with her decision, Klara could certainly repurpose the almonds. "As many as you can afford to give me."

The vendor nodded. He began to scoop the roasted almonds into a large sack.

Beatrice set her remaining coins on the counter. She then turned toward the dried fruit stall behind her. It was one of her favorite spectacles. A variety of fruits were kept in boxes and hung from the shop's eaves. There were the in-season fruits–cherries, apricots, and strawberries–and other fruits that wouldn't be ripe for months yet, including blackberries, red and blackcurrants, peaches, and apples.

Apples.

Beatrice's mouth watered. If she had one weakness, it was apples. She adored them in every shape and form. In her hometown, come autumn, she would gorge herself on the apples that grew in the orchard in the valley. Sina had even more ingenious uses for the apple. Her favorite pastry of Klara's was a rose-shaped, apple-and-cheddar tart. Beatrice's favorite food in the entire world, though, was apple dumplings. A whole apple was peeled and cored, lightly brushed with butter and sugar, and then wrapped with a light, flaky dough. The dumpling was then brushed with egg yolk and covered with more sugar and spices. The dumplings would come out of the oven crackling and a delicious golden brown. They would be served, hot, with a vanilla custard or, as Beatrice preferred, a mulled wine sauce. It was her favorite part of living in Wall Sina. She simply couldn't get enough of those apple dumplings.

Unfortunately, apples wouldn't be in season for many months yet. Beatrice could only eat her apple tarts or her beloved apple dumplings in the fall months. The fruit was also in increasingly short supply. A majority of apple production had been outsourced to Wall Maria, and many orchards in Wall Rose had been cleared for farmland. Beatrice feared that apples would soon be as expensive as butter or nuts. Perhaps they would soon be gone altogether...

"Miss? Miss!" The nut vendor impatiently rapped on his countertop. "I have your almonds!"

Beatrice wrenched her eyes away from the dried fruit stall. "My apologies, sir." She took the bag from the vendor. "Have a good day."

The vendor waved his hand dismissively. "Next customer!"

Beatrice shook her head and left.

"What did you find?" Klara asked when Beatrice returned.

"I have two kilos of butter." Beatrice set the parcel on the counter. "I also bought some almonds."

"How many?"

"I can't say," Beatrice admitted. "As many as the coins allowed."

Klara peered into the sack. She nodded. "That'll do. Unwrap the butter and put it in the icebox. I need it to be firm."

Beatrice undid the wrapping around the butter. She took care not to tear the wrapping. The farmer had used that morning's newspaper in place of proper paper. Beatrice wanted to read whatever articles she could.

Klara took the paper from Beatrice. She skimmed the paper. "Survey Corps Recon–Reconciliation Mission?"

"Do you mean reconnaissance?" Beatrice asked as she put the butter into the icebox.

"I don't know. Probably. Here." Klara handed Beatrice the paper. "Read it. Your eyes are better than mine."

Beatrice squinted. "A Survey Corps Reconnaissance Mission is scheduled for this morning at nine o'clock. The Scouts will be leaving from the Trost district. Their intentions are unknown at this time."

"They intend to kill themselves," Klara muttered. "That's all they do anymore."

"They don't seem to accomplish much," Beatrice admitted.

"Call me cruel, but I hope their mission failed. Maybe then the government can shut them down." Klara picked up the bag of almonds. "No more lives would be lost. I'd still feel bad. No more Survey Corps would mean we'd be giving up on Wall Maria forever. You'd never get to go back home. But it's not like you've got anything left to return to, do you? No ma, no pa, no friends...not even a village, right?"

Beatrice shook her head. "My life is in Mitras."

"It'll stay that way." Klara headed to the storage room. "Sweep the floors. Make sure the walls are clean. The rest of the day is yours to waste."

Beatrice was soon on her way to the forest. She had two bags with her. One was reserved for a patient. The other contained all of her medical supplies and her transfusion device.

Beatrice's mind, however, was not on her upcoming experiment. She couldn't get Klara's words out of her head. No more Survey Corps would mean we'd be giving up on Wall Maria forever...You'd never get to go back home. Your life is in Mitras, and it'll stay that way.

Beatrice wasn't sure how to feel.

There was much that she disliked about Mitras. She hated having to calculate every conversation and that The Etiquette ruled her life. She did, though, love the art and the markets and all the opportunities that her village had denied. The apple dumplings alone were reason enough to stay. Beatrice licked her lips.

Still, though, there was a part of her that missed Wall Maria. This side of Beatrice wished to go home. She longed to return to the fields where the wildflowers bloomed, and the sun shone strongly. She wanted to wander the apple orchards and gorge herself on apples to her heart's content. She wished to return to her cabin and sleep in her own bed again.

It's not like you have anything to return to. Klara's words echoed in Beatrice's ears: no ma, no pa, no friends, not even a village.

That was true. Beatrice tried to remind herself. Part of the thrill of the idea of returning was to be back in her own village. She wanted, more than anything, to see the mayor and her old school friends and all the other faces she had known and loved over the years. Half of her longing to go home was to see her mother and her father and–

–and–

–well, that wasn't going to happen. Beatrice shook her head. Klara was right. Beatrice didn't have a home anymore. She didn't have a family. Or friends. She only had herself.

And her invention.

A bugle sounded. The shouts of men and the bays of bloodhounds filled the air.

Beatrice's eyes set in determination. The hunters were on the prowl.

So was she.

Chapter Text

Sisi sat on her bedroom floor. She was surrounded by suitcases in various states of fill. A mountain of clothes lay before her. The carriage to Mitras was arriving soon, and Sisi was nowhere near prepared for the journey.

Sisi couldn't have cared less. She instead was bent over a miniature canvas. An array of paints and pastels sat on her left. A newspaper clipping of Captain Levi was to her right. 

“Almost…done,” Sisi said to herself. She dipped her paintbrush into the black paint. “Just need to do the hair–”

A flurry of knocks came at her bedroom door. “Elisabeth!” called the maid. “Are you finished?”

Sisi jumped. “I–” She looked guiltily at her room’s disarray. “Almost!”

“The coach has arrived!” The doorknob started to turn. “Allow me–”

Sisi sprang to her feet and stuck her paintbrush into her pocket. “No, no, it’s quite fine!” She threw her shoulder into the door and forced it shut. “I can manage!”

“Madam!” protested the maid. “I insist!”

“I, too, insist!” Sisi threw as many clothes as she could manage into her suitcases. She jumped on one suitcase to force it shut. Before she bid farewell to her bedroom, she slid her paints and canvas beneath her bed. She then opened the door and gave the maid a breathless smile. “I appreciate your offer, but I am perfectly capable of handling my own luggage.”

“I insist,” the maid said dryly. “As does your mother.”

Sisi huffed. “As you wish.”

“There you are.” Pauline crossed her arms as Sisi and the maid carried the suitcases downstairs. “I wondered if you would ever join us.”

“I wonder if you could shut your mouth for once,” Sisi shot back. 

“I wonder if you will ever find a husband,” said Karoline as she joined her sisters and the maid in the foyer. “You certainly don’t endear yourself to anyone when you use such language.”

“You’re one to talk.” Sisi stuck out her tongue. “You’re two years older than me, and you still aren’t married.”

“She is endearing herself to Manuel Weber, and vice versa,” Pauline pointed out. “And don’t stick out your tongue. It’s childish.”

“It’s unbecoming,” chided Sisi’s mother, who entered the foyer just then. She gave Sisi a stern look. “Your father and I are not pleased with you.”

Sisi crossed her arms. “Are you ever?”

Her mother continued as if Sisi had never spoken. “We have put such effort into cultivating your talents. We pay for your schooling, your lodging, and your clothing. We hired tutors for your language and art.”

“I’m not bad at art,” Sisi protested.

“Which is why we’ve put such effort into refining your abilities. And how have you repaid us?” Sisi’s mother held up a delicately gloved hand. “You failed your finishing school. You drove away four tutors and failed six betrothals. You fail to impress at the Universitätsmedizin in Mitras–and in the goddesses’ name, where are your gloves?”

“I was trying to be ladylike.” Sisi grinned. “I ate a piece of Bienenstich, and I didn’t want to ruin my gloves, so I took them off and put them in my pocket.” She reached into the folds of her dress and triumphantly held her gloves for her mother and sisters to see. “Ta-da!”

Sisi’s mother’s face turned white. Her sisters gathered around.

“Anneliese,” Karoline sighed.

Pauline’s nose wrinkled. “Is that mud?”

Sisi’s eyes widened. She stared at her gloves. Too late, she remembered that she had put her used paintbrush into her pocket as well. Her gloves were now stained black. 

“By the goddesses.” Sisi’s mother gritted her teeth. “I do hope you are not such an incompetent–”

“Elisabeth.” Sisi’s father walked past. “Karoline. Pauline.” He nodded at Sisi’s mother. “Amalia. What's the reason for the delay? The carriage has been waiting outside for ten minutes!”

Sisi’s mother forced a smile. “We have been discussing etiquette with our youngest daughter.”

“I’ll finish the lesson.” Sisi’s father snapped his fingers. “Elisabeth. You, maid. Load the suitcases. Mine are waiting near the coach.”

“Yes, sir.” The maid bowed.

“Father?” Sisi tilted her head.

“Gerald?” Sisi’s mother clutched her hands together. “You cannot mean that you are traveling with her?”

“I have business in Mitras,” Sisi’s father said calmly. “It’s only logical that Elisabeth and I share a carriage.”

“You didn’t mention–”

“It is a sudden matter.” Sisi’s father raised a hand. “That’s all you need to concern yourself with, Amalia.”

Sisi’s mother opened her mouth, then shut it.

“I’ll be back in two days’ time.” Sisi’s father kissed her mother on the cheek. He then nodded at her sisters. “Pauline. Karoline. Mind yourselves.”

“Yes, Father,” Pauline and Karoline echoed. They curtsied dutifully. Sisi’s mother did the same, although there was a glint of confusion in her eyes.

“As for you, Elisabeth…” Sisi’s father turned toward her. “Help the maid load your belongings. We don’t have all day.”

The carriage was soon on its way. Sisi sat on one end of the coach. Her father sat opposite her.

“Father…” Sisi searched for the correct words. “Why are you here?”

“Didn’t you hear your mother and me?” Her father sighed. “I have business in Mitras. You are returning to Mitras. There’s no point in ordering two carriages.”

“What sort of business?”

Sisi’s father stared at her, and for a moment, Sisi wondered if she had said the wrong thing. Again. But then, he shook his head. “King Fritz has summoned the council.”

Sisi tilted her head. “What for?”

“The Survey Corps is leading a mission out of Trost today. If this mission goes the way of the others…” Sisi’s father glanced out the window. “The council will vote on whether or not the Corps will continue.”

Sisi’s mouth dropped.

“Close your mouth.” Sisi’s father snapped. “It’s unbecoming in a lady.”

Sisi clamped her lips into a thin line. 

“Much better.” Her father nodded approvingly. “There’s another reason that I am accompanying you today. Your mother doesn’t need to hear this now, mind you.”

Sisi slowly nodded.

“Elisabeth.” Her father stared directly into her eyes. “You have been in Mitras for several months. You know as well as I that the city is not what it seems.”

Sisi’s hands figeted with her soiled gloves. “What do you mean?”

“How many thieves have you seen on the streets? How many drunkards’ songs keep you awake at night? How many days are filled with the Underground’s stink?”

Sisi stared at her father. “You know about these things?”

“It’s my business to know about such things. And frankly…” Sisi’s father shook his head. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but do you know why that is? Why so many lowlives fill the streets of our beautiful capital?”

“No, Father.”

“Because the prisons are out of room.” Noticing Sisi’s expression, her father laughed mirthlessly. “The Military Police have arrested as many as they can. There simply aren’t enough holding cells for them all.”

“Even in Mitras?”

“Especially in Mitras.”

Sisi searched for words. “I–Then–How–”

“That’s no matter of yours,” her father said curtly. “The Council will debate the matter once we’ve decided the future of the Scouts. It will be solved, I can assure you of that much. For the time being, however, I’d rather accompany you in and out of Mitras.” He looked back out the window. “I fear what the bandits would do if they caught a young lady alone, unawares.”

Sisi stared at her father. Gerald Erhardt was not known to be talkative. He wasn’t aloof, so to speak, but he kept his distance from his daughters. He rarely spoke to them, and when he did, it was about trivial matters. Sisi doubted whether he knew anything of substance about her–what was her favorite color, what her grades were, or even what the color of her eyes was. She was frankly surprised that he knew her name. 

She was therefore taken aback that he would discuss such information with her.

“Father.” Sisi clutched her hands together. “What–”

“Hush,” her father suddenly ordered.

Sisi tilted her head. “Father?”

“Hush!” Her father held his finger to his mouth. He stared outside the window.

Sisi opened her mouth to protest. Before she could speak, however, she heard the sound of approaching hoofsteps.

Sisi’s eyes widened. “Father?”

“Back.” Her father pushed her against the far side of the carriage. “Behind me.” He leaned outside the window. “Who goes there?”

Sisi waited with bated breath. Who could be approaching their carriage? Bandits? Highwaymen? Murderers on the run? 

Were she and her father about to die?

“Lord Erhardt!” came the call of a courtier.

Sisi exhaled sharply. Her father also leaned back, relieved. “Gaspard,” he said calmly. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Urgent news from Trost,” panted the courtier. “There’s been an attack.”

“An attack?” Sisi asked.

“Quiet, Elisabeth.” Sisi’s father snapped his fingers. He leaned outside the window. “An attack from whom?”

“It’s not confirmed.” The courtier hesitated. “But they fear it’s Titans, sir.”

Sisi’s blood turned to ice.

“Titans?” Her father’s face blanched. “You can’t mean–”

“A messenger brought word, sir. He was just in Trost. He said that the Colossal Titan returned. The sky turned yellow, and the ground shook–then the gate was breached, and Titans flooded the city.”

Sisi gasped.

“Impossible,” her father said to himself. “It can’t be. The Titans haven’t attacked in five years.” He looked back outside. “Where is this messenger? How trustworthy can he be?”

“I trust him,” Sisi said.

“Elisabeth, this does not–”

“With all due respect, Father, I was there in Shiganshina five years ago,” Sisi snapped. “It was just as the courtier said. There was a giant flash across the sky, and then the ground shook beneath our feet. Pauline thought it was an earthquake. Then the Titan…” She shuddered. “He was there, like magic, and he kicked down the wall…It was exactly as this messenger said. He can’t be lying. The Titans are back,” she said quietly. Then louder. “The Titans are back. The Titans are back! We’re going to die! We’re all going to die!”

“Contain yourself!” Her father slapped her across the face.

Sisi rubbed her cheek in shock. 

“We will only die if we lose our wits!” Her father took a shaky breath. He then tapped on the carriage wall. “Gaspard, send the women to the Orvud district. Have them await further instructions. Elisabeth and I will go to Mitras. We will wait for more news from Trost.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I never thought this day would come.”

Tears welled in Sisi’s eyes. She couldn’t believe it. She wanted to disbelieve the messenger. She knew, though, deep within her heart, that the news was trustworthy. Her worst nightmare had been actualized: the Titans had returned. All of a sudden, she was thirteen years old again. She and her sisters were watching the Colossal Titan leer over Shiganshina. Boulders flew through the air. Titans lumbered through the streets.  Blood pooled on the roads and trickled through the cobblestones. It was a nightmare.

No, it was real. And it was all unfolding in Trost. 

Her father felt the Three Goddesses' chain around his neck. “Save us, goddesses,” he prayed aloud.

“Save us,” Sisi echoed. Yet she knew that the Goddesses could do nothing.

Save us, Levi. Save us, Commander Erwin, she prayed. Save us, Survey Corps!

Chapter Text

It was a bright, beautiful morning in the Trost district. The sun shone brightly over the town and the countryside. The city itself moved with life. People greeted each other with the warmth of the sun. They smiled at each other longer than usual. Then they all made their way toward the threshold of Titania. The biggest event of the season was unfolding: the Survey Corps was leading an expedition south of town.

Theo intermingled with the crowd. He pulled a hood over his head and kept his face downcast. He couldn't bear the thought of someone recognizing him. They'd certainly ask questions. Why aren't you with the Scouts? Why did Erwin order you to stay behind? What's wrong with you?

Theo gritted his teeth. His situation was intolerable enough. The extra shame would be unbearable.

Damn you, Commander Erwin, he cursed for the seventieth time that day.

The townspeople congregated around the gate. A buzz of excitement filled the air. People murmured to one another. "Do you see them coming?" one asked.

"No, I don't see a thing."

"I hear something!" A young girl jumped up and down. "Footsteps!"

"You're probably hearing the footsteps of everyone else around us," her companion said, disgusted.

"Or the sound of your stomach," a young man teased.

The two young men guffawed.

"I'm serious!" The girl stomped her foot. "I hear horses! It has to be the Scouts!"

"It has to be Jean-Boy stomping around." One of the young men mimed a Titan's footsteps. "Stomp, stomp, stomp."

"Cut it out!" snapped his other male companion.

Theo's eye twitched. Forget the shame of being recognized. Being in the vicinity of those imbeciles was a fate worse than being fed to the Titans.

He then heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps.

His companions craned their heads. "Is that–" one began.

"It's them! It's them!" shouted a nearby child. "The Scouts are coming!"

"I told you!" The girl elbowed her companions. "I told you!"

"Ow!" One rubbed his arm ruefully.

"Heads up!" A man's voice boomed over the crowd. "The main unit of the Scout Regiment is here!"

The townspeople shuffled forward. Theo found himself being moved with the pack. He gripped his hood tightly. His comrades couldn't see him in such a state.

There they came, then–the mighty Survey Corps with their uniforms freshly laundered and their eyes bright with anticipation. The commander led the troop on his white horse, his expression calm and his head held high.

Bile formed in Theo's mouth.

"Commander Erwin!" called a nearby man. "Give those bastards a thrashing!"

A cheer rose from the crowd.

The commander didn't budge his head or even blink. He and his horse continued as if the townspeople weren't even there.

As if you haven't ruined my life. Theo's eyes narrowed. Damn you, Commander.

"Look, there's Levi!"

People craned their heads. Theo's eyes latched onto the captain as he and his horse turned a corner. At his side was Hange.

Hange. Theo nearly laughed. Did the commander really expect her to fight better than Theo? What purpose could she serve the Corps? Would she capture all of the Titans and add them to her menagerie? Or could she do everyone a favor and be a Titan's hors d'oeuvre? The commander couldn't expect her to serve any other purpose than that.

The townspeople paid Hange no mind. Their eyes were all on Levi.

"I hear he's a battalion into himself," said one of the imbiciles.

Levi rolled his eyes and muttered something to himself. Theo was too far away to read the man's lips.

Theo wanted to begrudge the captain for being on the mission. Yet even he couldn't deny that Levi was a specimen of a soldier. No one had slaughtered more Titans. No one made it seem so effortless, either. The man had even done the unthinkable and endeared himself to the commander. What a man, that Levi was.

How Theo wished he could be even half the person he was.

"He's so dreamy," sighed a nearby woman. "I hope he doesn't die!"

"He won't die," a man said. "He always lives. He could even survive Shiganshina."

Shiganshina.

Theo's blood turned to ice. All of a sudden, he was eighteen years old again and watching the deplorable Scouts re-enter Shiganshina. How dirty and demoralized the men had all been. How the crowd had scorned the old commander, whatever that poor old sod had been. From what Theo had heard, the man had resigned his post that very day. He'd appointed Erwin as his successor. Theo couldn't covet the current commander's position. To be appointed humanity's last hope in the face of such a demoralizing attack was inenviable, to say the least.

With a start, Theo realized that Erwin must have been among the Scouts that day. Perhaps the two had even seen each other. Two young men, both of them–both on the cusp of greatness, both unaware of the danger to come. How they'd changed so much in–

"–five years," the woman was saying.

"And there won't be another incident." The man pointed at the perimeter of Wall Rose. "Look at those new cannons!"

They were an impressive sight, Theo had to admit. The cannons were twice as long as he was tall. Their girth had to be at least half a meter. They would certainly pack a punch. But as Theo stared up at the wall, he couldn't help but remember the Colossal Titan leering over Shiganshina. Its pupil was bigger than a cannonball. If, for some reason, the Titans ever resumed their war against humanity, how much good could a cannon do?

Theo pushed the thought out of his mind. He didn't need to dampen his mood any more than it already was.

"What idiots," scorned one of the imbicles as the last of the Scouts departed through the threshold. "They're all gonna kill themselves sooner or later."

"Chin up." The other male imbicile smirked. "You don't have to worry about joining them."

Theo then noticed the three were wearing cadet uniforms. He fought a sigh. It all made sense, now–why the crowd was so optimistic and idiotic. The latest batch of cadet graduates had dawned upon the city. They would all be choosing their fates in a day. The lucky top ten would join the Military Police and live swanky lives in the interior. Most would join the Garrison and live fulfilling yet unsatisfying lives. The bravest of the bunch would join the Survey Corps.

Theo prayed that the three idiots at his side weren't among that number.

Theo shook his head as the crowd dispersed. He couldn't believe his luck. Out of the entire regiment of Scouts, it seemed that only he had been left behind. And what for? To wander the streets of Trost and get drunk off his ass? To babysit a bunch of bratty cadets? All because he couldn't win a stupid game of chess. What rotten luck Theo had.

Damn you, Commander. Theo's hands balled into fists. Why couldn't the commander give him a fighting chance? Why did he keep Theo at arm's length? If only, if only, if only–

"Excuse me, sir!"

Theo turned around.

A young man, maybe seventeen or eighteen, beamed at him. He was scrawny and knobble-kneed with scraggly, straw-like blond hair. He was so thin that his Garrison uniform hung off him. "You're one of the Scouts, aren't you?" he asked.

Theo forced a thin smile. "I don't know who you think I am, but you're mistaken."

"I knew it!" The man beamed brightly. "You're Theo Schoeber!"

Theo took a step back. "I don't–"

"I read about you in the paper." The man's eyes shone like stars. "You've killed Titans! Here, come with me." He grabbed Theo's arm before Theo had time to protest. "I'll buy you a pint. You've got to tell me all about being a Scout!"

Theo had no choice but to follow.

"I'm Timo, in case I forgot," the young man said as he led Theo down the side streets of Trost. "Timo Wagner."

"Nice to meet you, Timo." Theo wrenched his arm free. "I don't mean to sound rude, but I'm not sure what's going on here."

"I'm buying you a beer." Timo stopped beneath a wrought sign of a crowing rooster. He turned the handle of a wooden door and grunted as he forced it open. "You get to tell me what it's like being a Scout."

"And why–" Theo raised his voice as he followed Timo into the pub. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why not?" Timo raised his hand. "Two kegs, please. I mean," he said, turning back to Theo, "you aren't with the Scouts, and I've got the day free. Neither of us has anywhere we need to be. Why don't we spend the day in a bar?"

Theo could think of several places he'd rather be. Back in Wulfshausen, perhaps, with Louise at his side and several children playing in the village square. In bed, even, and dreaming of nonconsequential nonsense. Most of all, he wished to be at the commander's side, slaughtering Titans and inching closer to reclaiming–

He then saw Timo staring at him expectantly.

"I–" Theo forced a smile. "I didn't catch that."

"Why don't we spend the day here?" Timo repeated.

"I see. Yes." Theo nodded, dazed, as the bartender arrived with two kegs of ale. "There's nowhere else I want to be."

"I want to be out there." Timo handed the bartender two golden coins. "With the Scouts. I've always wanted to be a Scout, ever since I was a kid."

"Why didn't you join?"

"My pa." Timo shrugged. "He caught ill, and Ma, well, she had three other kids younger n' me to feed. I couldn't just leave her alone, could I? So I stayed here. I work hard, and I send her my wages."

"I'm sorry," Theo took a sip of ale. It was weaker than a traditional Marien brew, but it was palatable. He swallowed. "That's awful."

"It isn't so bad." Timo set his keg on the countertop. "I'm not in any real danger. I get to see Ma and my siblings every weekend. My brother joined the cadets, too–he's graduating this weekend. He wants to be a Scout, too." He grinned. "If you ever meet some crazy kid named Thomas Wagner, tell him Timo says hello."

"I will," Theo promised.

"Ma worries about him. She thinks he's reckless. Which–" Timo nodded. "But I was worse. And look at me, I've settled down fine enough. I patrol the wall by day, drink at night, and enjoy my life between then. And when I really want to, I get to climb the Wall and look out at old Maria. Have you ever been up the wall?"

"Can't say I have."

"You have to." Timo's eyes shone. "I can see for kilometers and kilometers up there. I can see rivers and forests, and when the weather is just right, I can see mountains far to the west." He pointed. "They're so far away that they look like little gray clouds. But they're mountains."

"Those have to be the Herzbergen," Theo realized. "They're a hundred kilometers from here." He turned toward Timo in disbelief. "You can see them from atop Wall Rose?"

Timo nodded earnestly. "I'll take you up there. You can see them yourself. We can watch the Survey Corps, too." He took a long swig of ale and exhaled. "I like to watch your missions from up there. I can't see much, but I can see these itty-bitty Titans stumbling around and then–" He hit the tabletop. "Blam! Down they go. It's fascinating. I can't imagine what it would be like to really fight them."

"Let's pray you never have to." Theo stared into his tankard. "I've seen far too many kids like you die out there."

Timo's face reddened.

"But..." Theo smiled. "Let's climb the Wall after we finish our drinks. I'd like to see for myself how–"

A yellow light flashed across the sky, followed by an earthshattering–

BOOM.

The pub's windows shattered. Glass flew across the room. The barstools were thrown backwards. Theo and his companion tumbled to the ground. The back of Theo's head bore the brunt of the fall.

Timo was the first to recover his wits. He scrambled to his feet. "What the hell just happened?"

Theo was too stunned to move.

"Theo? Theo!" Timo grabbed Theo's arms and pulled him to his feet. He waved his hands across Theo's face. "Can you see me? Did you hit your head?"

"I–" Theo shook his head. "I'll be fine." He looked around. The pub was in a scene of complete devastation. Tables were upturned, and shards of glass were everywhere. Spilled beer seeped through the floorboards. The bartender was on his stomach in a pile of glass. A puddle of blood pooled around his motionless body.

Theo recoiled away from the sight.

"Theo?" Timo stared at Theo. "What just happened?"

"I don't know!" Theo tried to gather his wits. He couldn't wrap his head around the situation. One moment, he and Timo had been sitting at the bar with pints of ale in hand. Next, the world had–

The blood in Theo's veins turned to ice.

"It exploded," he said to himself. "The world exploded. Again."

Timo stared at Theo. "Sorry?"

"It's just like five years ago." Theo's heart began to race. "It was just like that when the Colossal Titan attacked Shiganshina."

"You were there?"

"I was there. I lost everything there! My family, my friends...the love of my life..." Theo choked back a gasp. "I first saw a glowing yellow light. Then there came an explosion..."

Timo stared at Theo.

"...and then came the Titans," Theo realized with dawning horror. He gripped Timo's shoulders–both to make the boy learn the gravity of the situation and to steady his own shaking hands. "The Titans are attacking us. We need to get out of here!"

"But–" The blood drained out of Timo's face. "They haven't attacked in five years–"

"They're attacking now!" Theo yelled. He shook Timo's shoulders. "Whether you believe me or not, Titans are coming!"

As if on cue, screams started to fill the air.

"They're here now," Theo realized. He tried to control his breathing. "We need to get out of Trost. Wall Sina's our best shot."

"No."

Theo stared. "What?"

"No," Timo said, louder and firmer. His face was still deathly white, but his eyes were hardened, determined, even. "Go find the Scouts. You can survive out there. Get Commander Erwin n' Captain Levi back here. You guys can fight them off. It's your job, right?"

Theo couldn't find any words.

"I need to find my brother." Timo took a shaky breath. "Tommy's just fifteen. He won't stand a chance out there. I'll get him out of Trost. Then I'll help get as many people out of here as I can. Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah," Theo said slowly. Then surely: "Yes. You and the Garrison try to hold the Titans off until I bring back the Survey Corps. I'll be back as fast as I can." He started to back toward the door.

The conscious bar patrons stared at him and Timo.

"Do you want to die, or not?" Theo waved his hands. "Run for your lives, goddamn it!"

That was all the signal the people needed. They ran toward the exits, screaming and yelling. Theo ran after them.

"Don't die!" Timo called after Theo.

Theo forced his way past the townspeople and ran toward the stables. His heart and mind were running a million kilometers ahead of him. This can't be happening, his brain repeated. Not here. Not now. It's been five years... if the Titans were going to attack, they would have done so a long time ago. They wouldn't return now. It can't be. They can't–

A dark patch appeared in Theo's peripheral vision. He turned to his right. He froze dead in his tracks.

The gate had been reduced to rubble. A giant maw stood in its stead. And, as Theo watched helplessly, a Titan stumbled through the hole and into Trost.

Theo tried to move, but couldn't find the strength. Fear gripped him.

The Titan stared at him with empty eyes. It had the face and silver beard of an old man. Come to think of it, it bore an eerily similar appearance to Theo's great-uncle Harm. Theo had been maybe four or five when Harm had passed. But he'd always liked Harm. The man would play the fiddle at village gatherings. He could sing, too–anything from old ballads about maidens and knights to bawdy bar tunes that made Theo's mother blush. Great-Uncle Harm had also whittled toy horses and soldiers from a fallen tree for Theo. Theo had treasured those possessions throughout his entire childhood.

Theo gaped at the Titan in disbelief.

The Titan tumbled its way toward Theo. It smiled at him the way Great-Uncle Harm once had. But, while Great-Uncle Harm's eyes had crinkled and his stomach turned upward whenever he smiled, there was no warmth in the Titan's face. Its mouth spread wider and wider until it was gaping. Its hand then reached toward Theo.

Theo's legs unfroze. He sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him toward the stable. "Lou! Lou!" he called, hoping his horse could hear him. "We have to run! Now!"

His horse reared on its legs as Theo ran into the stable.

"Good girl," Theo panted. He threw open the stall door and quickly fastened the horse's saddle. He then sprang onto her back. "Go, Lou! Go!"

Lou didn't even need to be told once. She galloped out of the stable and made for the hole in the wall.

Theo's eyes widened. "Whoa! Whoa!" He gripped the reins and forced Lou to a halt. They watched together as a group of Titans passed through the hole and into Trost. A large number had already amassed in the city. They stumbled through the streets in search of their prey.

The church bells began to toll.

"It's just like Shiganshina," Theo breathed. He glanced at the hole in the wall. "No one's coming, Lou!" He cracked the reins. "Run!"

Lou whinnied.

Together, the two made their way out of Wall Rose.

There was a sense of homecoming whenever Theo re-entered the old boundaries of Wall Maria. True, he had never ventured this far north when he'd lived in Wulfshausen. Theo felt a kinship with the land regardless. He knew the villages' old drinking songs by heart. He knew the mountain folklore. Every shrub and tree was as familiar to him as an old friend. This was the land where the flowers grew free, and the rivers rushed wild. This was the land where people knew how to brew good beer and how to love as if there was no tomorrow. This was the land where people judged Theo for more than being a lowborn village boy.

This was home.

Lou nickered as a Titan crossed the road far ahead.

"Good girl." Theo put his hand on the horse's mane. He took a deep breath. This land was not his home. Not any longer. Not as long as there were Titans on the prowl, at least. "Steady on," he told Lou in a low voice. "Commander Erwin said the goal was to reach Ohnan. They should be in Rosenheim by now. That's twenty kilometers from here." He gripped the reins. "We have to find the commander before it's too late."

Theo had no idea whether Lou understood him. He had found, though, that talking to her considerably calmed his mind. It wouldn't have been a surprise to him, either, if Lou did have an inkling of understanding. In Theo's unbiased opinion, no finer horse existed in the Known World. She had survived the Marien reclamation expedition and countless reconsaissaces at his side. Lou was pretty, too, with a dappled bay coat and her legs stained coal-black. She was the envy of many a Scout. She obeyed Theo's every command. In return, he trusted her with his life. The arrangement suited them both.

It hadn't failed them yet, at the very least.

It took several minutes for Theo and Lou to reach Rosenheim. It might as well have been years.

It gave Theo time to think.

Rosenheim had been a prosperous river town in the olden days. Theo's father had discussed it a handful of times at the village pub. The buildings there were several stories high and wrought with the finest quarried stone. Merchants said that it rivaled the cities in Wall Rose. One even said it was as lovely as Stohess in Wall Sina. Theo had dismissed the man as a fool. But he had listened to the stories. He heard that the children played in shining fountains, that the men and women wore the latest fashions, and that the townspeople feasted on fresh trout and beef daily. To Theo, it had sounded like paradise.

Theo looked around as Lou galloped through the outskirts of Rosenheim. He wanted to gauge his surroundings; such tall, numerous buildings were the perfect hiding place for Titans. He also wanted to see how Rosenheim had changed since he last visited. It had been over three months since he had accompanied the commander on an excursion to the town. The town had not improved. Ivy dominated the once-domineering structures. Holes from Titan attacks were scattered across the promenade. Roofs were beginning to collapse inward. The infamous fountains had long been clogged with the decaying remains of Theo's fallen comrades.

Theo shuddered.

But he didn't see anyone—no Scouts, no horses...no Titans, even.

Theo tried to think of what this could mean. The worst-case scenario was that the Scouts had all been ambushed and devoured by the Titans. The Titans had then retreated to the countryside to sleep off their meal. It wasn't an unrealistic thought, much to Theo's chagrin. But Titans only ate people–never their horses. If the Scouts were all dead, where were their horses?

"They must be in Ohnan," Theo realized. "They reached it already." For a moment, he felt a bitterness in his heart. The Scouts had gotten the enormous success that the commander had so desperately craved, and Theo hadn't taken a part in it.

But he pushed the thought out of his head. It wasn't important. All that mattered now was rescuing the people of Trost. He cracked his reins. "Keep going, Lou!"

Lou obeyed without hesitation.

They didn't get far.

As Theo and his horse reached the south side of Rosenheim, he saw a flicker of movement in his left field of vision. He grasped his reins. "Whoa, Lou."

Lou came to a halt. Her sides heaved as she tried to catch her breath.

"You're doing great," Theo breathed. He patted Lou's side. The horse's fur was soaked in sweat. She couldn't keep running for much longer, he noted with concern. "I'll take it from here," he assured her.

He then switched on his ODM gear.

There was a particular thrill to the ODM gear. Theo's heart soared as he attached himself to the buildings and threw himself into the bottomless sky. From that vantage point, he could see over all of Rosenheim. It was exhilarating.

Theo leaned his head back and stared into the sun. Is this what it means to be God? He asked himself as he basked in the golden rays. Is this what it means to be mighty? It has to be, he decided as he started to drop to the ground. There is no better feeling than this.

As he descended toward the streets, he saw the characteristic flashes of ODM gear two streets away.

"There you are," Theo grunted. He swung toward his fellow Scouts.

He didn't see the Titan until it was nearly atop him.

Theo barely saw the Titan's leering face. He just had time to see the wide open mouth and realize, This is it, this is how I die–and then he saw a glint of silver and heard the familiar swoosh of swords cutting through Titan flesh. In the next moment, he was atop a roof, and the Titan was falling to the ground.

Theo turned around in shock.

"Theo!" A familiar girl waved at him from across the street. She wiped her bloody swords on the roof tiles. "You were right, sir! I am good enough to avenge my friends!"

Theo's eyes widened. "Hilda Reuss?"

The tearful girl from the commander's office beamed at him. "I'm good enough to save you!"

"That you are." Theo breathed shakily. "That you are."

"Theo!" a voice called sharply. The commander's voice.

Theo's smile faded.

There was a swoosh of ODM gear, and then the commander was standing in front of him on the rooftop. "What are you doing here?"

"We have to retreat. You have to get back to Trost," Theo panted.

"What do you–"

"The Colossal Titan returned." Theo searched for the right words. Being in the commander's presence had made him entirely lose his senses. "He broke the wall! Titans are pouring into Trost!"

"Sir?" Hilda gasped.

The commander stared at Theo.

"I swear it, sir!" Theo shook his head. "I saw it myself! It's just like five years ago, in Shiganshina! There was a flash and everything–" He motioned with his hands. "It all exploded, just as it did when the Colossal Titan attacked Wall Maria! There's a hole in Wall Rose, too–I saw it myself–and Titans are flooding into town!"

The color drained from the commander's face.

"I'm not lying, sir." Theo clutched his hands together. "God be my witness. You have to get the Scouts out of here and back into Trost. We have to save as many people as we can from the Titans!"

"I believe you." The commander shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. His eyes then steeled. "Fall back," he ordered Hilda. "Find as many Scouts as you can. We're returning to Trost."

"What about you?" Theo couldn't help asking.

"I'll find the rest." The commander looked down at his horse. "We'll rendezvous at the old fountain."

"Understood." Theo saluted the commander. He then raced over the rooftops toward the faithfully awaiting Lou. "Good girl," he told her as he swung from the buildings and onto her back. "Let's go! Move!"

Theo wasted no time. He and Lou made their way through the streets of Rosenheim, alerting as many Scouts as they could about the situation in Trost. A few Scouts needed a deal of convincing. Most, thankfully, obeyed Theo without hesitation.

"Where are we going?" a Scout named Benno asked.

"We're meeting the commander at the fountain." Theo glanced behind him. "I'm counting twenty-two of us. The commander should've found the others."

"Right." Benno gripped his horse's reins. "Let's clear out."

"Fall back!" Theo called for the other Scouts to hear. "We're meeting Commander Erwin and the others at the Angerbrunnen fountain! Watch out for Titans!" he reminded. "Trost needs us alive!"

"Yes, sir!" the Scouts chorused.

Theo steered Lou toward the Angerbrunnen fountain. The commander was already waiting for him there. At his side were Hange and Captains Miche and Levi, plus an assortment of lowly Scouts.

"Is that everyone?" the commander asked.

"As many as we could find."

The commander looked around. "We're five short."

"We lost Peter," said Petra. "Oliver." She closed her eyes. "And Anna."

"We lost Lukas," added Benno.

"Sonja, too," called another Scout from further in the back.

"I see." The commander's face betrayed no emotion. "Trost is under attack," he announced to the Scouts. "There's a swarm of Titans bearing on the city. We have to assume it's the same scenario as five years ago." His eyes landed on Theo.

Theo stared at the ground.

"This is our most important fight yet." The commander raised his voice. "There is no future without Wall Rose. This battle decides the fate of humanity! Your families, your comrades, your very lives depend on this day's outcome! We make our final stand against the Titans here and now!"

The Scouts cheered.

Theo gripped Lou's reins as if his life depended on it.

"All units!" The commander brandished his sword. "Advance!"

The Scouts surged forward with a mighty yell. Theo raised his voice with the crowd. Despite his mixed feelings about the commander, Theo couldn't deny that the man was a natural speaker. He never failed to galvanize his troops. He could even make the idea of a painful and pointless death seem exhilarating.

Theo just prayed that the commander wasn't leading them into certain death.

"Theo." The commander made his way to Theo's side. "Tell me more about the situation in Trost."

"I've told you all I know, sir," Theo admitted. He gripped Lou's reins so tightly that his hands turned white. "I was at a bar with a Garrison soldier when the Colossal appeared. The guy left to get as many people out of Trost as he could...he said I should go and find you. He said the Garrison would hold off the Titans as best they could." Theo swallowed. "I don't know how they're holding on."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"I don't know." Theo tried to think. "I left Trost as soon as the attack started. Lou and I didn't stop until we reached Rosenheim. It was probably an hour ago."

"You're probably right," the commander agreed. He stared north toward Trost. "Let's pray the Garrison and the cadets haven't been slaughtered."

The cadets. Theo's stomach dropped. He had forgotten all about the cadets. The Garrison wasn't prepared to deal with the Titans, but they had combat experience. The recruits barely knew how to use ODM gear. He thought back to the three imbiciles who had watched the Scouts leave Trost that morning. Those kids didn't stand a chance!

"Where was the hole?" the commander asked.

"In the gate." Theo swallowed. "I...I can't say for certain, sir, but it appeared to me that it was in the same area that Wall Maria was attacked."

"So it would seem." The commander's eyes narrowed. He steered his horse away from Theo and toward the awaiting captains.

Theo stared at Lou's mane. His mind raced. Were the children that he'd seen that morning still alive? What about Timo–had he reached his brother in time? Was anyone still alive in Trost?

Had Theo been too late to save them?

It took eons before Theo saw Wall Rose in the distance.

"Commander Erwin!" called a nearby Scout. "I see smoke!"

Theo squinted. Indeed, he could see a plume rising over the city. His heart sank.

"That can't be a good omen," Benno muttered, mirroring Theo's thoughts.

"Keep going," Miche ordered. "We have to assume that the town isn't yet lost." His hand lowered toward his sword. "We will lose if we give up hope. We can't afford to lose another Wall."

"No." Theo took a shaky breath. "No, we can't."

"How are you, Theo?" Hilda looked at him with concern. "This must be like–"

"I'm fine," Theo snapped.

Hilda recoiled.

"I–" Theo sighed. "I'm fine. I'm not thinking about the past." He stared at the wall as the Scouts drew nearer. "I'm thinking about now."

The gate came into eyeshot.

Benno peered at the wall. "There's supposed to be a hole, isn't there?"

"There is a hole. I..." Theo's voice trailed off. He stared at the wall in disbelief. The gate had been destroyed; cracks radiated in every direction, and the grass outside the wall was covered in rubble. But there was no hole in the wall.

"Where's the hole?" Hilda demanded.

"There was a hole!" Theo looked around wildly. "There was! I saw it!"

"He's right." Miche's lip curled. "I smell Titans. They're in Trost." He sniffed the air. "I can't smell smoke."

"But where–" Benno began.

Theo's eyes widened. "Look!" He pointed. "There's a...a boulder, there! It's blocking the wall! But that's where the hole was!"

The Scouts stared.

"That's a big hole," Hilda said after a moment.

"That's a big boulder." Benno shook his head. "How did the Garrison manage to move it there?"

"It might have fallen from the Wall," Theo guessed. "The Colossal Titan tore off pieces of Wall Maria and threw them across Shiganshina. He might've tried to do the same here."

Hilda frowned. "How could a rock fall that perfectly?"

"I don't know," Theo admitted. "But that rock's at least twenty meters tall. No army could have put it there!"

"However it got there, it's blocking the wall." Benno pulled his horse to a halt. "How are we supposed to get in?"

The army came to a standstill. Theo could hear them murmur amongst themselves. He, too, was at a loss. The hole in the wall had been patched, somehow, which was great. But Benno was right. The gate was completely inaccessible to the Scouts.

"How, do–" Theo began.

"All soldiers!" interrupted the commander. He raised his arm to attract the Scouts' attention. "Deploy your ODM gear. We'll climb over the wall. Be prepared for hell!" He brandished his sword. "Do not falter!"

Theo switched his gear into action. He patted his horse once on the side of the head. "Bye, Lou."

Then he followed his fellow Scouts up the side of the wall and into Trost.

Theo took a moment to look outward as he swung over the wall.

Timo had been right. The view from above Wall Rose was outstanding. Theo could see for kilometers upon kilometers. The buildings of Trost appeared no more than toys. Fields and forests unfolded like patches on a quilt. As Theo watched in awe, a bird flew beneath him.

I'm flying higher than any bird can, Theo realized. He spread his arms as if they were wings. I was wrong. This is what it feels like to be God. This is as good as it gets.

Only as he began to descend did Theo honestly look at Trost.

The sight chilled his bones to the marrow.

Trost was in the same sorry shape as Rosenheim. Shattered glass and stone covered the streets. Blood stained the battered houses and storefronts. Bodies were piled along the sides of the roads. The once-fine town was now hell on Earth.

"It looks just like Shiganshina," Theo gasped as he landed atop the Wall.

"I'll say," Benno growled. He pointed. "Look."

Theo did.

A battalion of Garrison troops had backed an army of Titans into the northwest corner of Trost. The Titans were packed so tightly together that none could move.

Hilda craned her head. "How many Titans are there?"

"Seven, eight..." Theo tried to count before he shook his head. "There's more than twenty."

"I'd say there's more than fifty." Benno grasped his swords. "We've got our work cut out for us."

"I don't understand." Hilda squinted. "Why would they gather all the Titans in a group like that?"

"They probably thought they would be easier to manage." Theo laughed despite himself. "This is the Garrison we're talking about. They hardly know how to use ODM gear, let alone fight Titans."

"You're right." Hilda didn't look convinced.

"Wait, what's that?" a nearby Scout gasped.

Benno, Hilda, and Theo all looked.

A steaming Titan ribcage lay on the street near the boulder. Three young cadets were crouched beneath its bones. With a start, Theo realized that the smoke he'd seen earlier hadn't been smoke at all, but steam.

"It makes no sense," Theo thought aloud. "What Titan produces that much steam?"

"I heard the Colossal Titan did." Hope glimmered in Hilda's eyes. "Maybe the Garrison managed to kill it!"

Theo shook his head. "Those bones are too small. The Colossal Titan's taller than this wall. That skeleton can't be more than thirty meters long."

Hilda's face dropped.

"You're right." Benno's eyes narrowed. "Something's not right here. Why are those kids hiding underneath that skeleton?"

"They're probably scared out of their minds." Theo sighed. "Nothing prepares you for a Titan invading your hometown. Judging by the looks of it, there've been a lot of lives lost." He then saw a flurry of movement out of the corner of his eye. "At the very least, Captain Levi's going to check it out. They'll be fine."

Benno nodded slowly.

"I..." Theo looked around. The captains had all descended into Trost, and the commander was nowhere to be seen. "If you'll excuse me," he said to Benno and Hilda, "I'm going into the city to gauge the number of casualties. Tell Commander Erwin if he asks."

"Wait–" Benno began.

He was too late. Theo had already swung into Trost.

Theo brought himself to the ground in a controlled movement. He glanced around. There were no signs of Titans in his vicinity. There weren't any traces of any life, human or Titan. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Timo? Timo?" he called softly.

There was no reply.

"Timo..." Theo tried to remember the soldier's last name. "Timo Warner? Timo Wagner?" He ambled down the street. "Timo Werner? It's me, Theo! I've returned! I brought the Survey Corps!"

The only sound was of blood squelching beneath Theo's feet.

Theo grimaced. "Anyone! My name's Theo Schoeber. I'm a member of the Survey Corps. I'm here to help you!" He reached a corner and trepidly peeked around it. "I–"

His words disappeared.

The street before him had been ransacked. Every windowpane had been shattered. Glass crunched beneath Theo's feet as he crept around the corner. The remnants of wooden beams and windowsills were scattered across the path. Puddles of blood stained the rooftops. A few were suspiciously human-shaped.

Theo averted his eyes.

In the process, though, he saw a stain that crept halfway up the side of a storefront and across the entire street. In the middle of this stain was a muddled mess.

Theo's nose wrinkled. Titan vomit.

Theo crept forward. His eyes were fixed on the vomit in equal parts revulsion and horror. The damn bastards had eaten so many people that they'd puked their victims back up. Theo's eyes narrowed as he drew closer and closer to the pile of corpses. There could be tens of people mixed into the vomit. The most Theo had ever counted was fifty-three. He doubted there were that many...

He then saw a familiar mop of straw-blond hair amidst the corpses.

A strangled gasp left Theo's throat. He forgot himself entirely and ran toward the vomit. He shoved aside the mangled corpses, disregarding the bile that stained his hands a sickly orange, until he had uncovered the body with the blond hair. He then tried to pull the body out of the vomit, only to realize that there wasn't a body to recover. There was only half of a torso, a mangled arm, and a head.

Theo stared at the head in disbelief.

Timo's lifeless eyes stared back at him.

"No," Theo breathed. "No. No!" He shook what remained of Timo. "Timo! Timo!"

Timo didn't stir. His eyes remained wide open and bulged nearly out of his head. They were already beginning to cloud over. His face was contorted in an alarmed or agonized expression. Whatever it was, it was clear that he hadn't received a graceful end.

"Tim–" Theo set Timo's remains aside. Bile rose in his throat. He crouched in the middle of the street and vomited. He didn't move from his spot. Tears prickled at his eyes as he spluttered for breath.

Theo didn't allow them to fall.

They would have landed on Timo's face.

Theo didn't know how long he stayed in that position. Minutes, maybe. Maybe even hours. Time was as muddled a mess as the bodies in the Titan vomit.

Eventually, he heard footsteps behind him. The sound jolted him back to his senses. But Theo didn't budge.

"Theo?" the person asked.

Theo raised his head.

"Theo." The commander stared down at him. "What's the meaning of this?"

"I–" Tears welled in Theo's eyes. He forced himself to swallow. "I knew him. He didn't..." His voice trembled. "He was..."

The commander looked down at the corpse. His eyes narrowed.

Theo glared at the commander. He knew exactly what the man would say: We can't waste any time with these corpses. There are plenty of Titans left to kill. If you want to avenge your comrade, send those bastards back to Hell.

But the commander did something that Theo did not expect. He crouched beside Theo and studied Timo's bulging eyes. "What was his name?"

"Timo," Theo said slowly.

"Timo," the commander said thoughtfully. He reached out his hand and closed Timo's eyelids.

Theo stared at the commander.

The commander got back to his feet and gazed down at Theo. His expression was akin to sympathetic.

"Why?" Theo asked after a moment.

The commander misunderstood. "No one knows. We still don't know where they come from or why they want to eradicate humanity. I don't know why they killed your family and your friends." He held out his arm. "I do know that we cannot stay ignorant forever."

Theo took the commander's hand.

The commander pulled Theo back to his feet. "Go find Miche. He's in charge." He turned around and started to walk away.

"I..." Theo struggled to find the words. "Excuse me, sir!"

The commander paused.

"You..." Theo looked down at Timo's body. "Just now, why did you..."

The commander at Theo. For a moment, Theo thought he wouldn't get a response. Eventually, though, the commander closed his eyes. "We will avenge him. I give you my word."

The commander left without another word.

Theo was left alone with the corpses and the questions.

Chapter Text

Experiment Twenty, Beatrice wrote as she walked. Two tods. The donor's initial pulse was 91 bpm. The recipient's pulse was 160. Blood transfused at 2 mL per minute. The donor’s pulse after the transfusion was 122 bpm. The recipient’s pulse was 127. The recipient felt well enough to hiss when touched. Experiment: SUCCESS, she noted with satisfaction.

Beatrice then shut her journal and put it back into her satchel. The sun was too low for her to write any more than that. She’d spent more time in the forest than she had intended. But Beatrice had managed her time well. As she’d expected, the noblemen had set many traps that day. Beatrice had rescued four foxes and two unfortunate rabbits. She had run three experiments that afternoon. All of them had been successful. Even the rabbit had soon recovered its strength. 

Yet Beatrice was not yet satisfied. She plotted as she hurried along the trail. Her procedure worked on rabbits as well as it did on foxes. How would it work on a larger animal? Beatrice longed to experiment on a deer, but those were few and far between. She wondered if a horse would be a suitable substitute. They were similar in size to deer, and they were far more commonplace. Beatrice had worked with horses back in Wall Maria, so she knew how to handle them without injuring herself. The Survey Corps’ horses could also require transfusions if a mission went terribly wrong. It was only right that they be her following targets.

However, Beatrice had no horse of her own. They were an unnecessary expense in a place where everything Beatrice needed was within walking distance. Horses, in general, weren’t as common in Mitras. The only horses in the city were used to pull the carriages of the nobles and officers. There was a livery some streets away from Klara’s bakery, but Beatrice couldn’t think of a way to access the horses and use them for her experiments. 

Beatrice mulled the matter over until she reached the bakery.

Much to her surprise, the lamps inside the bakery were lit. Customers still sat at the tables. Klara was amidst them. Her head was buried in her hands.

Everyone jumped as Beatrice opened the door.

Klara clamored to her feet. “Beatrice! Where have you been?”

“I went to the woods to gather some meadowsweet.” Beatrice tilted her head. “What’s the matter?”

The customers exchanged glances.

“You haven’t heard the news?” Uli Rogoff finally asked.

Beatrice frowned. “What news?”

“What news?” A middle-aged man laughed. “I imagine you’re the last person in these walls to know what’s going on!”

“Quiet, Jakob,” Klara scolded. She sighed heavily. “The Colossal Titan returned.”

Beatrice’s mouth dropped.

“It attacked Trost,” continued Klara. “It broke the wall. Many Titans entered the district.”

Beatrice looked wildly from Klara to the customers. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She willed desperately for it to be a twisted joke. But the serious expressions on Klara's and the customers’ faces betrayed the truth. The monsters that had ransacked her village and murdered everyone she loved had truly returned. They had attacked Trost as they had Shiganshina.

If so, that meant…

“God, no,” Beatrice realized. “The Doks…Marie and the girls…” She stared at Klara in disbelief. “Tell me this is a joke. Don’t tell me we’ve lost Wall Rose!”

“Control yourself,” Klara said sharply. “There’s no cause for worry.”

Beatrice’s hands fell to her sides. “No cause for worry?!”

“The Survey Corps did their damned jobs for once.” Uli shrugged. “They came back from wherever they went and killed the bastards. And it sounds like the Garrison somehow managed to plug the hole.”

“Oh. That…” Beatrice exhaled shakily. “That is a relief.”

“It is.” Jakob stared at the tabletop. “For now.”

“Jakob, how many times–” Klara began.

“I’m just saying!” Jakob threw up his hands. “The Titans are going to come back. It’s only a matter of time before we all die!”

“We’re in Mitras,” another customer scoffed. “The Titans would have to get through Trost and Sina before they could even dream of reaching us. We’re safe here.”

“But for how long?” Jakob insisted.

“Quiet!” Klara smacked the table with her hand. “I won’t have such talk here. What matters is that we’re safe.” She looked at Beatrice. “And that no other Walls have fallen.”

Beatrice shuddered.

“You should all go home,” Klara ordered. “The sun is setting, and your families will be worried. Go home and go to bed.” She turned around and yawned. “We can worry more tomorrow.”

The customers dutifully shuffled out of the bakery. Beatrice stared after them as they departed. She then slowly walked over to the table and collapsed into a chair. Her mind raced. The Titans had returned. They had tried to take Wall Rose as they had Maria! They’d been thwarted, yes, but how long would it be until they returned with a vengeance?

And just how had they been defeated? Beatrice couldn’t help but wonder.

She tossed the matter over and over until she fell into an uneasy sleep.

Beatrice was not herself the next day. Her lack of sleep made her feel far more irritable than usual. Every nerve of hers was on high alert. A quill’s scratching made her startle. A horse’s whinny made her heart furiously pound. She couldn’t quite believe that she was safe. All she could think about was the Titans and that they had returned.

Beatrice was not alone in this regard. Her classmates, who were usually so calm and composed, rushed furiously to the newspaper stall during their luncheon hour. Beatrice followed a few steps behind.

Konstanze Berger handed the newsboy a coin and took a newspaper. Her classmates congregated around her.

“Go on, go on!” Regine Klein urged. “Read it!”

“Give me a minute!” Konstanze snapped as she unfolded the newspaper.

Beatrice and her classmates waited with bated breath.

“The Colossal Titan destroyed the southern gate of Trost district,” Konstanze read. “Titans temporarily occupied Trost. The number of casualties is currently unknown but believed to be disastrous.”

Beatrice swallowed.

“However, a do-or-die operation to take back Trost has succeeded,” Konstanze continued. “The gate was re-sealed.”

The group collectively sighed in relief.

“The Titans still inside the Trost district are being hunted down. The King will address the nation when more information is known.” Konstanze closed the paper. “That’s all it says.”

“That’s all it says?” Gisela demanded. “Nothing more about the so-called do-or-die mission?”

“How was the wall sealed?” Friederike agreed.

“I would assume that whoever fixed the wall gave their lives in the process.” Wilhelmine covered her mouth. “There’s no one alive who can say how it was sealed.”

This seemed a reasonable explanation to Beatrice. Many of Beatrice’s classmates also nodded. 

“Oi!” a familiar voice called.

Beatrice and her classmates stiffened as Elisabeth Erhardt came running down the street. The girl, as per usual, was a mess. Her hair was undone and blew about in the wind, as did her mud-stained dress. Her eyes and smile were bright and wide. If she saw the judgmental looks from passersby and older students, she heeded them not. Instead, she barged her way past Beatrice into the midst of the group. “You bought a newspaper?” She snatched it from Konstanze’s hands and scanned it eagerly.

Beatrice and Wilhelmine exchanged looks of dismay. 

“Wait, what?” Elisabeth demanded. She looked around at the other girls. “There’s no talk about the Titan?”

“There’s plenty of talk about the Titans,” Dorothea scoffed. “The entire article discusses them.”

Several girls put their hands to their mouths. “Ha, ha, ha.”

“I don’t mean that,” Elisabeth said, disgusted. “I mean the Titan who sealed the wall!”

The girls stared at each other.

“I beg your pardon?” Dorothea said after a moment.

“Father said that a Titan re-sealed the wall.” Elisabeth crumpled the newspaper in her hands. “It picked up a boulder and used it to plug the hole!”

“This isn’t the time to joke,” Friederike snapped.

“I’m not joking!” Elisabeth protested. “I swear on my life! Father heard it from his merchant friend in Trost!”

“Oi, Elisabeth.” Wilhelmine pointed down the street. “I believe that Professor Creutz called your name.”

“She did?” Elisabeth dropped the paper and ran towards the school without another word.

The girls sighed in relief.

“Drat,” Konstanze complained as she picked up the newspaper. “The brat ruined it!”

“As she ruins everything else she touches,” Wilhelmine muttered.

The girls put their hands to their mouths. “Ha, ha, ha.”

“She must be lying.” Regine attempted to smooth the crinkles in the newspaper. “A Titan wouldn’t plug a wall.” She glanced around at the group. “Would it?”

No one replied.

“She mustn’t know what she is saying,” Regine answered herself. “No Titan would ever be on our side.”

“This is just another case of Elisabeth’s overactive imagination,” Dorothea agreed.

“Imagination?” Konstanze sniffed. “She’s delusional.”

“Or it may be one of her Wall cultist beliefs.” Gisela adjusted the gloves on her hands. “Although delusional and Wall cultist are hand-in-hand.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Beatrice and her classmates chortled.

Elisabeth’s sentiment, however, spread faster than cholera through the Underground. Beatrice heard similar whispers on her walk back to the bakery. People gathered in the streets the following morning, whispering in undertones. Beatrice slowed her brisk walk and tried to overhear their conversations.

“...Rose bastards are rushing to Sina,” a passerby growled.

“Are they allowed to pass?” a woman asked frightfully.

“Of course not. Only those with passes are granted entry. Doesn’t stop the lowlives from trying, though.”

“Can you blame them? They don’t know if the Titans will return.”

“We do know that there’s barely enough space for humanity as there is,” the man said. “How’re we supposed to survive if we’re all crammed into Sina?”

Beatrice shook her head and moved on.

“...merchants say a Titan blocked the wall,” someone else said in a low voice.

Beatrice’s ears perked. That conversation was much more appealing.

“The merchants?” A man laughed scathingly. “Can we believe information that isn’t certified by the monarchy?”

“And why should I believe that the monarchy has our best interests–”

His companion elbowed him. “Quiet, you!”

Beatrice inched closer to the group.

“They’re saying it was a cadet,” the man continued. “Some boy managed to tame a Titan and use it to move a boulder.”

“That’s not what I heard,” a different woman argued. “I heard he turned into a Titan.”

Beatrice froze.

“Have you lost your mind?” one of the men laughed. “Humans can’t turn into Titans!”

The woman crossed her arms. “It’s no more believable than a boy learning to tame a Titan.” 

“It makes no matter.” One of the men shook his head. “Whoever that boy is, he’s dangerous.”

“No, he’s a hero,” the other man argued. “He saved Trost! As a matter of fact, he saved all of Wall Rose from being overrun by Titans!”

“How do we know that he wasn’t the one behind the attack?”

The church bells then began to toll. Classes were about to start, and Beatrice was still a street away from the school. She wrenched herself away from the conversation and walked as fast as her feet allowed.

Beatrice paid little attention to her studies or classmates that day. Her experiment, too, was a subordinate thought. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Elisabeth and the people on the street had said. Could it be true that a Titan had been the one to save Wall Rose from annihilation? Could it also be true that a cadet had made the Titan act in such a strange manner?

Beatrice left the Universitätsmedizin in a daze that day. Instead of walking as she usually did, with a sense of purpose, she meandered her way back toward the bakery. That morning’s conversation had gripped her. What had that woman said–the boy had turned into a Titan? It could be a mere dramatization. Rumors tended to spiral out of control in Mitras.

But what if it wasn’t?

“Miss Engel?”

Beatrice paused mid-step.

“It is you.” Commander Nile Dok was standing by her side. He looked worse than usual–his bolo tie was askew, and his face was harried. But he nodded respectfully at Beatrice. “Well met.”

“Well met,” Beatrice echoed. “It’s been a long time. How are Marie and the girls?”

“They were well last I saw.” Nile checked his pocketwatch. “I haven’t been home for a long time. My work keeps me in Stohess.”

“They’re safe, I presume?” Beatrice pressed. “They weren’t in Trost?”

“No, no.” Nile shook his head. “They’re all well.”

Beatrice exhaled. “What a relief. I was very worried for them when I heard about the attack on Trost.” She then looked at Nile. “What brings you to Mitras?”

“The attack on Trost.” Nile looked straight ahead. “Premier Zachary has called a deliberation.”

“A deliberation?” Beatrice frowned. “What for?”

Nile didn’t answer.

“Is it about the boy?” Beatrice wondered aloud.

Nile whirled around. “What do you know about that?”

Beatrice took a step back. She hadn’t expected Nile to become so accusatory. “Very little, sir,” she admitted. “But people talk on the streets. I’ve heard that there is a boy who can control Titans. Some say the boy can transform into a Titan.”

“You’d do well to ignore such talk,” Nile said curtly. He tucked his arms behind his back. “Focus on yourself and your studies. How are those?”

“Quite well,” Beatrice said slowly. “I’m due to graduate this year.”

“You have done well for yourself.” Nile signaled for a carriage. He stared Beatrice directly in the eyes as the carriage came to a stop. “Don’t let your talents go to waste.”

“I won’t, sir,” Beatrice promised.

Nile waved politely as the carriage carried him away.

Beatrice stared after the coach. She shifted uneasily on her feet. Her conversation with her benefactor had done little to ease her mind. On the contrary, she was far more worried than before. The way Nile had reacted to her question…his departing words…it could only mean one thing. 

The rumors Beatrice had heard were true.

Beatrice’s mind raced. What, exactly, was the truth? Could the boy tame Titans? Was he a Titan? Whatever the case was, it was serious. Premier Zachary wouldn’t have called the council together otherwise. The only time the military convened was when life or death was at stake. Beatrice had little interest in political matters, but even she knew that much.

 Nile’s words also took Beatrice by surprise. Why had he been so displeased? Had he been angry with her? Frightened, even? Why had he discouraged Beatrice from overhearing conversations on the street? It wasn’t polite to spy on strangers, but Nile had made no mention of that. He had said that Beatrice would do better to ignore those conversations. He’d also told her that it would be a shame for her talents to go to waste.

Had that been a threat?

Beatrice shivered. She couldn’t imagine Nile Dok ever threatening her. The commander had settled her into Mitras. He’d pulled strings to enroll her in the Universitätsmedizin. Beatrice had always held him in high regard. She had never taken him for the harmful sort.

Nile could have been warning her, she realized. He, too, was well-versed in The Etiquette. Gossips and liars went against The Etiquette. Perhaps Nile was merely trying to salvage Beatrice’s reputation before she discredited herself. She nodded slowly to herself and tried to believe it. She wanted to believe that was all that was at stake.

Yet a small piece of Beatrice’s mind remained unconvinced. Nile had seemed too serious for a mere matter of decorum. What if Nile was warning her about a more serious threat? It was conceivable that other people were displeased by the spreading of rumors—people who weren’t as forgiving as Nile.

That idea scared Beatrice even more than the thought of Nile threatening her. She clutched her hands together as she started her journey back to the bakery. Who was so against the idea of rumors? It wasn’t even falsehoods that Beatrice had overheard. It was the truth! Why was the truth so dangerous?

Could there be consequences of knowing the truth?

Beatrice shuddered. She had planned to sabotage another foxhunt that afternoon. After her encounter with Nile, though, she felt no desire to return to the woods. All she wanted to do was to climb into bed and pretend that the day had never happened. 

Besides, Beatrice no longer knew if her experiments were safe to conduct.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.

Chapter Text

Sisi skipped merrily down the avenue. As per usual, her hair was undone and her hat’s ribbons were untied. Her dress dragged on the cobblestones and collected all the dust it touched. Although it was past the lunch hour, her gloves were nowhere to be found. She resembled a Marien peasant more than a Sinan noblewoman. 

Sisi’s mother would have fainted at the sight. Her sisters would have scolded her until her ears fell off. Sisi did garner a variety of disbelieving and disapproving stares from passersby. A few laughed. Some whispered behind gloved hands.

Sisi couldn’t have cared less. Her parents were nowhere in sight, and no one in Mitras would have recognized her. She was also finished with that day’s instruction, and the rest of the day was hers to use as she pleased. It was the closest thing to freedom that Sisi would ever experience. Most importantly, the sun was shining, and the sky was too blue for Sisi to stroll at her leisure. So she skipped as high as her feet allowed and sang a tune she’d heard a drunk slur in an alley. “Die Gedanken sind frei, wer kann sie–”

Sisi froze mid-step.

A carriage had pulled alongside the opposite side of the street. Disembarking from the carriage were two men. One was a dark-haired, sallow-faced man dressed in Military Police attire. Sisi dimly recognized him as the commander of the Military Police regiment. What was his name, again? Was it Niko? Neil? She frowned. The exact name of the man eluded her. Sisi believed, though, that it was along those lines.

She did recognize the man at the commander’s side. That person was none other than her father.

Gerald Erhardt turned her way.

Sisi’s eyes widened. She immediately crouched to the ground and pretended to search for a dropped item. After a moment, she glanced up. Her father and the commander were walking down the opposite side of the street. If her father had recognized her, he’d at least been merciful enough not to call her out on her behavior.

“Whew,” Sisi whistled.

“Hey, brat.” A man shoved past her. He glared behind his shoulder at her. “Move it!”

Sisi scrambled to her feet. The entire front of her dress was covered in dirt. She was quite the spectacle now. Sisi, though, couldn’t be bothered to care. Instead, she stared after her father and the commander. Her eyes narrowed. What was her father doing away from Stohess? He’d just been in Mitras two days before. Why had he returned so suddenly?

“Hey, you!” Another person barged past her. “Get out of the street!”

“Rude,” Sisi muttered. She rubbed her arm ruefully. Then, her eyes brightened, and a mischievous smile spread across her face. “That I will,” she said to herself. “That, I will.”

Sisi glanced left to right and dashed across the street.

Sisi loved running. She’d taken it up as a hobby after reading an article about cadet training. As the journalist had written, running long distances at a good pace was an archetypal aspect of military training. It was a greater necessity for Survey Corps members. After all, when one was stranded in Wall Maria without a horse, running was a matter of life or death. 

Society frowned upon noblewomen running. It was far too strenuous an exercise. It also made one’s appearance look disheveled and dirty, which went against every known etiquette principle. Croquet and calisthenics were far more ladylike. Karoline and Pauline were renowned at croquet. Sisi didn’t mind calisthenics. She would never admit to such, however. Sisi was the black sheep of the Erhardt family, and she wore the title with distinction. Running was just another way to tarnish her reputation.

All of this to say, Sisi caught up to her father and the commander with utter ease. She was so fast, in fact, that she nearly barged into the commander’s backside. Fortunately, she had the foresight to stop herself just in the nick of time. She slowed to a pitiful trot and bowed her head in an attempt to conceal her identity, just in case either man turned around.

Neither man heard Sisi’s approach. Their heads were turned toward each other, and they spoke with lowered voices. Sisi tried her best to listen in.

“...a martyr,” the commander was saying.

“He’s a devil,” Sisi’s father interjected. “He has violated the divine protection of the Walls!”

Sisi’s lip curled.

“I mean no disrespect, Lord Erhardt,” the commander said quickly. “I mean only that he can’t be allowed to live.”

“Right you are.” Sisi’s father sighed. “Aside from his heresy, his mere existence threatens the sanctity of the Walls. We nobles and merchants despise him–and rightfully so, mind you.”

The commander nodded.

“The Marien peasants, however, see him as an angel.” Sisi’s father spat the word like a curse. “My friend Reeves in Trost has told me that the refugees are fighting in their camps. There are even whispers of rebellion.” He leaned in closer. “The peasant scum may follow the example of their angel and overthrow the military!”

Sisi suppressed a gasp. The commander and her father could only be talking about one person. They had to be discussing the Titan boy that Sisi’s father had told her about! 

“Rest assured, Erhardt,” the commander said. “We won’t let the situation degrade any further.”

“If that insolent scoundrel is allowed to live–”

“He won’t.” The commander shook his head. “Premier Zachary is a reasonable man. He knows that our argument is sound. He also knows what type of person Erwin is.”

“A conniving bastard?” Sisi’s father laughed scathingly. 

Sisi wanted to shout. What do you mean? Do you want to kill the boy who saved Trost? He’s no devil! I don’t care how he saved the Walls–he did it! He’s possibly the greatest asset we have in the fight against the Titans! 

Fortunately, she had enough sense to bite her tongue. She winced as she tasted blood.

“I won’t go that far,” the commander disagreed with surprising force. “But Erwin’s views are clouded by wishful thinking. It’s been that way since we were cadets. I’ve hoped that he would someday change for the better. Unfortunately, it seems that he’s destined for an early grave.”

“That’s no concern of yours.” Sisi’s father put his hand on the commander’s shoulder. “The goddesses will deal with him as they see fit. Your task today is to convince the premier to rule in our favor.”

The commander shrank away from Sisi’s father’s touch. “You’re right as always, Lord Erhardt.” He then glanced backward.

Sisi ducked into the nearest store before the commander could catch more than a glimpse of her soiled dress.

Sisi pressed her back against the wall and tried to catch her breath. “Whew.” She exhaled. “Boah,” she said to no one in particular. “Can’t believe he didn’t see me!”

“Good afternoon,” a woman said sharply.

Sisi turned around.

She’d stumbled into a pâtisserie. All around were gentlemen dressed in the finest suits Mitras had to offer. They stared at the oddity in their midst. The maître pâtissier at the counter folded her arms. “We don’t offer charity to waifs.”

“I…” Sisi tried to smooth her dress. It was only then that she realized she’d lost her hat. Her hands flew to the top of her head in a vain attempt to comb her hair. “I have money,” she told the pastry chef. “Do you have any Bienenstich cake?”

“Not since yesterday.”

“What do you have?” Sisi didn’t wait for the woman to answer. She ran to the display case and pressed her face against the glass. “Mont-Blanc? Schneeballen…strawberry palmiers…” She squealed. “Tart bostock! That’s not too different from Bienenstich,” she realized. She then stood up.

“Have you made up your mind?” the woman asked dryly.

“One piece of tart bostock.” Sisi beamed at the woman. “With vanilla custard, if you have it.”

The woman nodded curtly and took a slice of almond-coated brioche from the display case. She set it on a plate and then walked into a storeroom.

“Oh, and drench it in custard!” Sisi called after the woman. “However much you put on it, it won’t be enough!”

“What a hellion,” one of the pâtisserie’s patrons scoffed.

“I’ll call her what she is,” another man said in a snide overtone. “A rotten shit.”

 “Ha, ha, ha,” the two politely chortled.

Sisi didn’t care. She eagerly bounced up and down as she waited for the woman to re-emerge from the storeroom. The tart bostock was just begging to be smothered in an ungodly amount of cream and custard. Sisi’s mouth watered at the very thought.

“There you are.” The woman re-emerged with a silver pitcher and raised it over the tart bostock. “Tell me when there’s enough.”

Sisi nodded. She stared intently at her pastry as the woman poured a slow and steady stream of custard over the top. Once the tart bostock was drenched and excess cream had covered the bottom of the plate, Sisi waved her hand. “That’s sufficient.”

The woman gaped at the plate.

“I love custard.” Sisi giggled. “If you couldn’t tell.”

The woman stared at Sisi for a long moment before holding out her right hand. “Seventeen marks.”

“Seventeen marks?” Sisi yelped.

The woman didn’t flinch. “I’m the one who buys the almonds and the flour and has to bargain with the cattlemen, so I charge as I see fit. If you want it cheaper, bake it yourself.” 

Sisi shook her head in disbelief. She opened her pocketbook and grudgingly handed the woman a handful of coins. “Seventeen marks,” she grumbled to herself. A slice of cake with custard had never cost more than ten marks in the days before the fall of Maria. Even after the fall, the price had hovered between eleven and twelve marks. Seventeen marks–either Sisi was being swindled, or food shortages were reaching an alarming high. Or both.

The woman put the coins into the register. She then handed Sisi her plate and a fork. “Have a nice day,” she said in a not-so-nice voice.

“Have a nice day,” Sisi returned as she sat at a table. She stuck her fork into her cake and took a small bite. Instantly, her eyes widened in delight. Bienenstich was her utmost favorite cake, but enough custard could make any pastry palatable.

Sisi took slow bites of her cake, trying to savor the taste. She wouldn’t return home until the next Erhardt ball, which was in two fortnights. Only then would her parents replenish her spending funds. Sisi was never lacking, but she couldn’t justify spending seventeen marks on her afternoon tea. Not even on Bienenstich, either!

She was still eating several minutes later when the bells at the front of the store jingled.

“Bertrand!” A young man in Military Police attire ran to one of the customers. He shook his head wildly. “Premier Zachary ruled against us!”

Sisi looked up.

The man stood so quickly that his chair dragged harshly across the tile. Sisi flinched at the sound.

“It’s true, Bertrand.” The officer nodded miserably.

“You can’t mean–” Bertrand began.

“Premier Zachary ruled in favor of the Scouts! That’s what I mean! The Survey Corps has possession of Jaeger until their next excursion.” The officer collapsed at the table. “I can’t believe it! Why would the premier side with Erwin?”

Sisi started. Her excitement and subsequent disappointment with the tart bostock had made her forget about her father and the commander. Her mind instantly raced to connect the dots. The commander and her father had been discussing Jaeger, the boy who could transform into a Titan. Sisi’s father had been called to Mitras for a deliberation with the premier–presumably over the Jaeger boy’s fate. Sisi’s father and the Military Police commander had wanted to kill the Jaeger boy. Sisi bristled at the very idea. But, miraculously, they had been outfoxed by Commander Erwin! The Jaeger boy would live! He would be a Scout!

Sisi nearly got to her feet and cried out with joy. The Scouts won! Huzzah! But in the nick of time, she realized that she had made too much of a fool of herself as it was. Too many rumors about her reputation would jeopardize Sisi’s place in the Universitätsmedizin. Sisi didn’t particularly care about medical studies; she would never be a nurse, and she didn’t want to be one, either. However, being at the school meant that she could be in Mitras. It meant that Sisi could be free from her parents and her sisters, if not from societal norms.

Sisi couldn’t bear the idea of losing such a privilege. She therefore clamped her mouth shut.

Until she returned to the boardinghouse.

“Josephina! Josephina!” Sisi burst as soon as she opened the door. She dashed up three flights of stairs, calling her roommate’s name all the while. “Josephina! Open the door!”

“Elisabeth!” Josephina threw the door open. “Did you forget your key again?”

“No!” Sisi put her hands on Josephina’s shoulders. “I have something I need to tell you!”

“You’re dropping out of school?” Hope glimmered in Josephina’s eyes.

Sisi shook her head.

“Oh.” Josephina looked at the ground.

“I overheard Father and the MP commander talking,” Sisi began. She danced on her feet. “They wanted to kill the Titan boy!”

“Aaron Pfleger?”

“Eren Jaeger,” Sisi corrected. “But they lost!” She clutched her hands together. “Eren’s going to be a Scout!”

Josephina raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And?” Sisi stared at Josephina in disbelief. “And? This…This…” She searched for the right words. “This could be the biggest moment in history!” She spread her arms. “The Survey Corps can learn what Titans are and how they work! We can beat the Titans! We can even return to Wall Maria!”

Josephina stared blankly at Sisi. She finally shook her head. “I was just about to leave. Cäcilia and I will be studying for tomorrow’s exam. I’ll be back late.” She started walking down the stairs.

Sisi tilted her head. “We have an exam tomorrow?”

Josephina shook her head as she walked away. “You should start to study. It would be a shame if you failed your first year of school.” Then she was gone.

Sisi scratched her nose. She felt that Josephina wouldn’t be upset if she flunked out of the Universitätsmedizin. 

“I wouldn’t be upset, either,” Sisi mumbled to herself as she entered her flat and shut the door. “Stupid town with all its stupid people. I hate everyone here.” She threw her pocketbook onto her desk and sprang onto her bed. “Aah,” she sighed as she sank into the featherdown mattress. She stretched her back and arms as far as she could. “I love it here,” she murmured to herself. “I never want to leave this bed. Ever.”

Josephina’s words echoed in her ears: Tomorrow’s exam…You should start to study. It would be a shame if you failed your first year of school.

Sisi turned her head toward her desk. Her pocketbook had landed on top of her textbooks. Sisi had neglected them for so long that a thin layer of dust covered the top book.

“I should start to study,” Sisi admitted to her pillow. “Mother and Father would be furious if I failed another exam. Karoline and Pauline would never allow me to forget it. I might even be sent home in disgrace and despair,” she finished in a mocking tone. She started to lift her head off her bed, but immediately dropped it back on top of her pillow. “I’ll start later,” she promised her pillow. She yawned. “Right after…”

Her snoring interrupted her sentence.