From a teacher who broke and spoke.
To an old man obsessed with creating weapons that could put the king himself at risk.
A couple who tried to fly through the skies.
A bitch hidden in a remote countryside farm.
Isolated cases.
Insignificant on their own.
And yet...
These are the true foundations of humanity.
The silent base of peace in this world.
Small transgressions, eliminated one by one, so that everything can remain exactly the same as the years pass.
It's wrong.
In a way.
In another...
It's what keeps the majority in their place.
Or at least those who remain relevant to the system.
"Can we start the interrogation?"
Levi's voice drops, thick with disgust, just as his hand crashes into Sannes's nose, completely shattering it.
"Ku...! Ku...!"
The sound doesn't come from his throat, but from the blood pooling in his mouth, unable to escape through a nose that has been completely crushed.
I don't look at him.
My eyes drift to the table beside us.
Pliers.
Tongs.
Knives.
Hammers.
Files.
And at least another dozen different tools.
All used.
All stained with blood at least once.
On the same table, lined up with unsettling precision, there are exactly ten fingernails.
"What is the Reiss family?"
...
...
...
...
"They are distantly connected to the royal family. Just another noble family, the kind you can find in any rural area."
My eyes darken, just like Hange's and Levi's.
"Then why does a family like that have the right to know the truth about the Titans inside the walls?" Levi asks, keeping a certain distance.
"Is it also the will of the Reiss family to use the Wall Cult to keep the population away from the walls?"
"Why the Reiss, and not the royal family?" I add. "Tell us everything."
"Ha..."
He lowers his head. His voice cracks, not only from the pain.
"People like you—"
My hand slams into his face before he can finish the sentence.
This time, there's no excessive force.
Just proximity.
My eyes are only a few centimeters from his.
"You're taking too long..." I say quietly. "I really would've liked to avoid this."
I release his head and step away slowly, walking toward the table of tools.
I understand the theory.
I've studied it.
But I've never done it personally.
I tilt my head, examining the instruments closely.
They don't look special.
They aren't.
"You're probably familiar with this method... although I took the trouble to create a device that makes it much easier."
I kneel in front of him.
I can feel Hange's gaze drilling into my back.
Pure fascination.
"It's usually used to peel potatoes..." I continue calmly.
"But if you're careful..."
I lift my gaze.
"You can peel almost anything, right?"
AAAGHAAAGAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!
"WHY??!!
WHY HAVE I NEVER SEEN PEOPLE LIKE YOU, WHO ENJOY INFLICTING PAIN THIS MUCH?!"
His voice is no longer just a scream.
It's an accusation hurled into the air—desperate, childish.
"DO IT!
KEEP GOING WITH THIS TORTURE YOU ENJOY SO MUCH!
MORE! MORE!
DO IT!"
He spits words along with blood.
"YOU LOVE VIOLENCE, DON'T YOU?!"
Love...
Enjoy...
"I'M JUST LIKE YOU!
TORMENTING PEOPLE WHO CAN'T DEFEND THEMSELVES EXCITES ME!
HAVE FUN WITH ME!"
He laughs.
Or something like it.
"YOU'RE ON THE SIDE OF JUSTICE, RIGHT, KID?!
THEN THERE'S NO NEED TO DOUBT!"
Justice...
"IT'S JUST LIKE YOU SAID, HANGE!
THERE'S NOTHING THAT CAN BE DONE!
IT'S FOR THE SAKE OF JUSTICE!"
He breathes with difficulty, but keeps going.
"IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT THAT WAY, EVERYTHING IS FUN!
IT'S LIKE YOU BECOME A WONDERFUL PERSON!"
Wonderful...
Fun...
"YOU'RE MONSTERS!
THE TITANS ARE SAINTS COMPARED TO YOU!"
He clenches his teeth.
Trembles.
"BUT I'M NOT AFRAID!
I... I..."
His voice breaks.
"I HAVE THE KING.
I PROTECTED THE KING WITH MY COMRADES FOR YEARS.
I BELIEVE IN THE SAFETY OF THESE WALLS...
AND IN THE KING."
Fear...
"What we did was wrong..." he suddenly murmurs, almost to himself.
"I want to believe that..."
He swallows.
"But it was so painful..."
He raises his head with what little pride he has left.
"Keep torturing me until I die.
This... this is all an existence stained with blood deserves..."
...
"What are you talking about...?"
The question slips out on its own.
Not from confusion.
From exhaustion.
Why did I feel pleasure in such a mundane task?
Even someone like him...
Human trash, utterly worthless...
...
How enviable.
That's the only thing this body is capable of feeling.
Useless trash...
And yet, he has everything I never did.
Even if only in a meaningless way...
He has something I can never reach.
"Let's take a break."
Levi's voice cuts through the air as he grabs my shoulder and drags me away without ceremony.
Ah...
I got lost in my thoughts again.
I just want to wash my hands quickly.
...
...
...
"Move. Now."
Levi shoves the other member of the Military Police forward.
Ralph. That was his name.
"Move, trash... you spilled everything after we pulled out one nail."
Ralph stumbles, but doesn't protest.
"You should see your partner," I add in a monotone voice, not even looking at him.
"We ran out of useful methods, and he still doesn't seem willing to talk."
I wave a sheet of paper in front of his face, watching his reaction.
"People are truly unique, aren't they? Hard to believe you two were comrades for nearly a decade."
"As if I care..." Ralph spits.
"He can hurry up and die for all I care. Always talking about the king, about peace... unbearable. He was always a nuisance."
He lifts his gaze with a sneer.
"You should just kill him."
"No." I tighten my grip on the papers.
"Not until we confirm the stories are identical."
I pause briefly.
"You wouldn't want to be wrong... even after everything you said."
Ralph swallows.
"Hey..." he mutters suddenly, lowering his voice.
"There is a bed in my cell, right?"
"Relax," I answer without emotion.
"Two meals a day as well."
I lift my gaze slightly.
"If Sannes confirms everything, we'll let you share a room."
—
—
—
—
"Good morning, Sannes."
Levi opens the door without ceremony.
The prisoner doesn't respond.
"Today it's my turn," Hange says with an overly cheerful smile.
"So I'll do my best to live up to yesterday's session."
Silence.
"We saw that you have... remarkable willpower," I continue, stepping aside to let her pass.
"So we decided to change our approach."
Hange tilts her head thoughtfully.
"It would be a shame to kill you without understanding everything, right?"
She takes another step closer.
"So let's start simple. Tell me..."
Sannes slowly raises his head. His eyes are glassy, but lucid.
"The Reiss family..." he whispers.
The air tightens.
"They are the true royal family."
...
...
...
—--------------------
A few days later, I find myself sitting inside what can barely be called a shed.
The wood is damp, the floor filthy, the air heavy with the smell of old hay.
Beside me, a blond head won't stop moving.
"And then Jean started arguing with Eren about whether someone had eaten his bread ration."
She speaks lightly, as if the world hadn't been shaken just a few hours ago.
"In reality, he hadn't even asked for it yet," she adds. "But he still got really mad."
I nod without looking at her.
"That sounds like Jean."
Historia smiles.
Not a big smile.
A small, genuine one.
"Have you noticed how he walks when he's angry?" she continues. "Short little steps. He looks like a duck."
"I have."
Her blue eyes remain fixed on mine.
No discomfort.
No nerves.
Just calm curiosity.
"Do you feel better?" she asks.
"I never felt bad."
"Ah..." she murmurs. "Well... you look better."
She shakes her head slightly, as if discarding an invisible concern.
"I haven't been able to train for several days," she says suddenly. "I feel weak from being locked up so long."
"That explains your lowered guard."
She blinks.
"You noticed?"
"How else do you explain dropping your cup twice?"
She laughs softly.
"I knew someone would notice," she says, without a trace of embarrassment. "Then I got scolded for dirtying the uniform."
She pauses.
"Does it happen to you that waiting makes you more tired than fighting...?"
"Yes."
"I thought I was the only one."
Silence settles between us again.
It isn't uncomfortable.
It's functional.
Historia leans her back against a beam and crosses her legs.
"When I was a child..." she starts, then stops.
I don't rush her.
"I used to talk to myself," she continues. "I'd say anything. Whatever came to mind."
"Did it work?"
"A little." She smiles. "It made time pass faster."
I stay quiet for a few seconds before answering.
"You know..." I finally say. "I think I did the same for a while."
Historia tilts her head slightly, attentive.
"But eventually I preferred sitting in a corner, hugging my knees... and closing my eyes."
I sigh and lean back against the beam, mirroring her without thinking.
"It's been a long time since I thought about that."
She doesn't answer right away.
Not because she doesn't know what to say,
but because she seems to be organizing the thought.
"Was it calmer that way?" she asks.
"Simpler."
"I understand," she murmurs. "When you close your eyes, the place stops mattering."
"Exactly."
She looks at the ground for a few seconds.
"I used to count meaningless things," she says. "The weather. The animals. What I had eaten."
"That sounds effective."
She smiles to the side.
"I guess it was."
Silence returns, but this time it's different.
It isn't empty.
"It's strange hearing that from you," she comments. "You don't seem like someone who would do that."
"I don't usually seem like many things."
She laughs softly.
"I'm glad I'm not the only one," she says. "I thought it was strange."
"It isn't."
She nods, satisfied with the answer.
"Nifa."
Levi's voice cuts into the room without rising, but it's enough to impose silence.
The red-haired girl, sitting with several squad members while drinking beer, looks up with a slight start. The glass freezes halfway to her lips.
"Hm?"
"Thanks for handling tonight's transmissions," Levi says as he approaches with steady steps.
"Thanks..." she replies, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, slightly uncomfortable with the sudden formality.
"Go and tell them what Erwin said," he adds, referring to the rest of the squad.
Nifa takes a step, then stops.
"Uh... what about them?"
She gestures toward the side of the room.
There, sitting with a rigidity that fails to hide their nerves, are Dimo Reeves and the young man I assume is his son.
"There's no problem with them listening," I interject, straightening slightly. "They're from the Reeves Corporation. They can stay."
My words coincide with a slight nod from Levi.
Even so, Nifa doesn't look entirely convinced.
"Ah... I see..."
"It won't be any trouble for us to leave, sir," Dimo Reeves says, standing immediately and bowing his head with practiced respect.
"No."
My voice stops him before he can take another step.
My eyes shift to Levi for just an instant—enough to confirm what we had already agreed on.
"Stay," I continue. "We said we'd be transparent. I trust you."
For a second, Dimo's eyes narrow, as if he hadn't expected those words.
"Huh...?"
He makes a strange, almost incredulous face before bowing again, gently pushing his son's head down to imitate him.
"We really appreciate it..." he murmurs.
"Uh... and why are you being so submissive to this kid?"
The voice breaks the moment without the slightest care.
The young man lifts his gaze brazenly, assessing us as if this were a business negotiation rather than a military meeting.
"You're Kiyotaka, right?" he continues. "And the other little one must be Levi. If you're really welcoming us, you should at least serve us a cup of tea."
...
...
...
This is, at minimum, the eighth time someone has called me a child.
Flegel.
That's his name, if I remember correctly.
My eyes rest on him for a few seconds.
Carefully slicked-back hair.
Well-made clothes.
A slightly flushed face, with more grease than necessary.
Under my gaze, his expression begins to change.
First, a confident smile.
Then hesitation.
Finally, a slight tremor at the corner of his lips.
Maybe I should soften it.
My gaze.
It seems I'm being too intimidating without meaning to.
Before I can say anything, Dimo pushes his son's head down harder this time.
"I'm sorry..." he says quickly. "I brought him with me so he could gain experience. One day he'll have to take my place."
"Ugh..." the young man grunts, annoyed.
"I've spoiled him too much," Dimo continues without lifting his head. "He still acts like a child. We'll leave, and you can inform us later about what we should do."
"No."
This time, Levi interrupts.
Everyone looks at him.
"Everyone will listen," he says calmly, leaving no room for discussion. "This doesn't concern only the Reeves Corporation."
He takes a step forward.
"It concerns the very fate of humanity."
The silence grows heavy.
"That's why your power... and your trust... are extremely important," he concludes.
...
Dimo Reeves swallows.
Then nods slowly.
He sits back down, pulling his son with him.
"I understand..." he finally says. "We'll stay."
The room regains its silence.
"Well then... regarding Historia ascending the throne as queen—"
"Eh...?"
"Queen...?"
...
"Captain Levi...?"
Nifa's voice sounds uncertain for the first time since she entered the room.
The scattered reactions, crossed glances, and tense silence seem to have thrown her off.
She turns toward Levi, searching for confirmation.
He doesn't answer.
That's enough.
"Well..." she says, swallowing. "It seems I neglected the topic and didn't tell you about it, but..."
She doesn't look at anyone in particular.
Until she does.
Her eyes lock directly onto Historia.
"It seems the current royal family, the Fritz..." she pauses, almost imperceptibly. "Is only masking the true royal family."
The air freezes.
"The true royal family..."
Another pause.
"Are the Reiss."
...
...
..
..
No one speaks.
No one even breathes properly.
It's as if the room loses its weight for a second.
I see the impact spread.
Not like an explosion.
Like a crack.
First, Historia's shoulders tense.
Then her fingers clench tightly around the fabric of her skirt, wrinkling it without her noticing.
Her eyes move.
Fast.
Disordered.
She searches the room.
A face.
A denial.
An exit.
She finds none.
Her breathing becomes irregular, though she tries to hide it.
She inhales too much.
Exhales too little.
Fear.
Not the immediate fear of physical danger.
But the other kind.
The one that appears when the past stops being the past.
Her gaze meets Levi's for a fraction of a second.
Then immediately pulls away.
Denial.
Her lips part slightly, as if she's about to say something.
No sound comes out.
Confusion.
The information doesn't fit yet—but it has already begun breaking things inside her.
"I-I heard something about allowing Historia to ascend the throne as queen, but..." Armin intervenes, raising his hand. "Is this the main objective of this mission?"
"Exactly," Levi answers curtly, then turns his gaze to Historia.
"Historia. Your opinion?"
"..."
Her eyes move again.
This time more slowly.
As if the world has suddenly become too large.
She is measuring distances.
People.
Spaces.
Looking for control.
She won't find it.
Because she already understands.
She doesn't accept it yet.
But she understands.
The fear doesn't come from the word royalty.
It comes from what it implies.
Being seen.
Being named.
No longer hiding.
Her jaw trembles slightly.
That is guilt.
Not hers.
But she feels it anyway.
I realize something before she does.
She isn't thinking about the throne.
Or power.
She's thinking about her mother.
About her name.
About everything she was forced to deny just to survive.
And about everything she will never be able to deny again.
Historia lowers her gaze.
But this is not surrender.
It's the exact instant before something inside her changes forever.
And she knows it.
"Ah... I–I..."
Her expression twists in fear.
"It's impossible. I can't."
"No...?"
Levi's voice doesn't change as he steps closer.
"To suddenly be told..."
"That you will become the highest authority over every person in this world."
"..."
The words get stuck in her throat.
The silence becomes uncomfortable for everyone.
Everyone except him.
"Probably..."
His voice continues, calm, almost cruel in its neutrality.
"There aren't many people capable of answering yes to that."
"That's fine."
"..."
Her lips move, but no sound comes out.
The image of a lonely girl on a farm, hidden from the world, overlaps with the word queen.
Incompatible.
Violent.
"I..."
Her voice comes out broken, so thin it almost disappears between other people's breaths.
"I am not—"
She stops.
The weight crashes down.
It falls on her entire history.
Her soul.
Her life.
Her choices.
Everything presses down on her at once.
The weight pierces her chest as sensation floods back in.
But above all—
Terror.
The figure of Captain Levi, the one she had grown accustomed to, now projects the same terror he brings to the battlefield.
His shadow stretches over her.
The past she believed insignificant.
The surname she tried to erase by speaking it less and less.
The blood she never asked for, but which was always there—
Silent.
Waiting.
Everything converges in this instant.
And she knows it.
Her eyes cloud—not with tears, but with overload.
She looks, but doesn't focus.
She hears, but the sounds arrive late, distorted.
This is not a moment to guide her.
Nor to hold her with empty words.
This is the exact moment when she understands that, whether she wants it or not, the world has already decided to push her forward.
Historia clenches her teeth.
The dry scrape of her jaw is audible.
For the first time since all of this began...
She doesn't look small.
She looks like someone desperately trying not to break.
Levi steps closer, his darkened face looming in front of her.
"But..."
He continues without raising his voice.
"None of that matters."
"Just do it."
The words come out dry.
Cold.
Abrasive.
Pure pressure.
Historia swallows.
Too much.
"I couldn't—"
The words tumble out as her eyes dart desperately.
"You don't want to do it?"
Levi's gaze hardens slightly.
"I—"
Her voice trembles again.
"I couldn't..."
Once more, she doesn't finish the sentence.
She can't.
Too much information hitting all at once.
Too much responsibility dropping without warning.
Too much past colliding with a present that won't wait for her.
Her breathing accelerates.
She inhales too much.
Exhales too little.
Her fingers tremble, open, unsure where to rest.
The world narrows.
The walls feel closer.
Faces distort.
The air grows heavy.
Her body decides before her mind does.
Historia stumbles.
One step back.
Another.
Her heels hit the ground clumsily.
Her knees give out.
Historia falls.
She stops fighting for one second.
Her hands clutch desperately at the fabric of my shirt, crushing it against her chest, as if something stable could exist there.
Her head tilts back.
I grab her arm before she hits the floor.
Her weight is real.
More than I expected.
"I understand."
The voice behind us is low.
Levi.
There is no reproach in his tone.
Only recognition.
Historia breathes irregularly.
Short gasps.
Erratic.
Her eyes are open—too open—but unfocused.
She isn't looking at me.
She's somewhere else.
Somewhere she's still a child on a farm, hidden from the world, convinced that if she makes no noise, no one will notice her.
"Then leave."
His tone fills with practiced indifference.
Some react immediately.
"Captain Levi?"
Unsure whether to intervene.
...
"Run from us with all your strength."
Levi closes the distance even more.
His shadow completely covers her—
A manifestation of this world's raw power.
"And we will also use all our strength and resources to capture you and force you to obey."
The silence that follows is heavy.
Crushing.
Historia shudders in my arms.
A small spasm.
Uncontrollable.
Her breathing catches again for a second, as if her body hesitates between continuing... or shutting down.
Her fingers loosen.
She is no longer holding onto me.
No longer holding onto anything.
For an instant...
She seems at peace.
Not because she has accepted anything.
But because her body simply can't resist anymore.
And then I understand.
This moment does not make her a queen.
It makes her someone who can no longer be ignored.
The world has just looked directly at her.
Embrace the contradiction...
Or be crushed by it.
I exhale slowly.
I suppose it's my turn now.
I tilt my head slightly, bringing my voice close to her ear—just enough that only she can hear it.
"Expecting you to carry all of this alone is impossible."
I feel her breathing shift slightly.
"In fact..."
I continue, not rushing her.
"You can't."
That is the truth, Historia.
You were never strong enough.
Even with all the progress you've made, expecting you to accept this is foolish.
And yet—
The world is like this.
It drags you into positions you never wanted.
It's inevitable.
And you have the potential to face them.
That's why...
"You're not that strong."
Historia's body tenses instantly.
The sentence hurts.
"I–I..."
"And there's nothing wrong with that."
"..."
"Giving up would be letting go of everything."
My voice lowers even more.
"This isn't giving up."
I shift my arm slightly so she can feel my presence again.
For as long as you need—
"If you can't fight this alone..."
I pause briefly.
"Then fight with the strength of others."
Her fingers tighten again.
"Use the Legion's... use even the strength of people you don't trust..."
"I'll guide you until you reach your maximum potential."
"Maybe someday..."
"You'll be a queen worthy of the title."
"But more than anything, Historia—"
"Use mine."
The words hang between us.
They don't advance.
They don't retreat.
The silence chokes her as she tries to respond.
She can't.
Her lips tremble.
Air goes in—but doesn't come out the way it should.
Tears gather in her eyes—first restrained, then inevitable—breaking the last barrier she was still trying to hold.
"I promised I'd protect you, didn't I?"
I don't wait for an answer.
Because if she spoke now, she would shatter completely.
"That doesn't change now."
I press my forehead against hers.
It isn't a tender gesture.
It's an anchor.
"I won't let go of you. No matter what."
Slowly—almost fearfully—she returns the contact.
She hides her face against my chest.
Tears hit me—hot, chaotic—soaking into the fabric without asking permission.
Her body trembles.
Not in rejection.
In relief.
This was your greatest nightmare, wasn't it?
I don't say it.
I think it.
Being dragged into a cold place.
Being forced to move forward when everything in you wants to stop.
Learning to use others.
Learning to endure the weight of existing for something more than survival.
Reaching your maximum potential...
Not for yourself.
For others.
Even so... it's a shame.
Out of all possible paths, I never considered a different one for you.
Not because it didn't exist.
But because it wasn't efficient.
This is a fear you needed to reach.
Only by passing through it could you stop running.
Only by overcoming it could you be useful to me.
And only by being useful—
Do you have a reason to keep living.
It's unfortunate.
But the path to this point was already drawn from the day your mother committed suicide.
I can't help feeling guilty.
From the moment you learned that love can disappear without warning.
I'm sorry I brought you here.
Not because it's wrong.
Nothing in this world is truly wrong.
Everything is reduced to our decisions.
That is the one thing I'm glad I learned by coming into this world.
Here—
I can be free.
Completely.
No matter how long it takes.
So at the very least—
I can give you this.
This contact.
This warmth.
This illusion.
Even if it's only a false taste of love.
My hand slowly strokes her golden hair.
Gradually calming her.
I lift my gaze.
Levi meets it a few seconds later.
There are no questions in his eyes anymore.
Only calculation.
"She accepts."
There is no other option.
Levi holds my gaze.
Now we share the same level of apathy.
The same silent darkness.
"But..."
I continue, without moving away from her.
"Only if I am her Royal Guard from now on."
Well... Kiyokasu here again.I think I can finally say it officially—I'm back.
I'm going to try to start the Return to Shiganshina arc as soon as possible.
I'd really love to hear your thoughts on this chapter.And one more thing...Which characters are you most interested in seeing developed from here on?Who are your favorites so far?I genuinely need your opinion— Your favorite writer Kiyokasu