"Don't be nervous, ma'am."
Hange raised her red, swollen hand — the one Mikasa had pinched — and said lightly, "I just found the child's grip strength… unusually strong for her age. She also seems rather resistant to impact. I only asked out of curiosity."
"I don't understand what you're implying," Carla snapped, shielding Mikasa instinctively. "Mikasa is just an ordinary child!"
Hange smiled, showing her reddened palm. "An ordinary child can't do this to an adult's hand, can she?"
Carla froze. Her lips moved, but no words came out.
"Of course," Hange continued with a shrug, "perhaps I'm just out of touch with children's strength. So… if it's not too much trouble, maybe we could give these two kids a simple medical check-up?"
"A… physical examination? Why?" Carla's eyes widened in alarm.
Keith stepped forward. "Let's do it. Carla, this will put everyone's mind at ease."
"But Eren, Mikasa, and Armin are all normal children!" she insisted. "I watched them grow up with my own eyes! They're no different from any others!"
Erwin's calm voice cut through her protest. "Then what are you afraid of?"
The color drained from Carla's face.
Afraid of what they might find…
Afraid that her husband wasn't the man she thought he was…
Afraid that her son might not even be human.
Any of those truths would destroy her.
"Auntie, it's okay," Armin said suddenly, looking up with an odd mix of calm and conviction. "Let them test us. If we're just ordinary kids, the results will prove it. But if we're… special — humans who can transform into Titans — isn't that even better? Maybe that's what Dr. Grisha wanted all along. A way for humans to fight back."
"Armin…" Carla whispered, stunned.
Keith's heart gave a painful throb. Grisha… That name still carried weight. He remembered the doctor who always smiled kindly, the man who seemed so ordinary. But this… this isn't ordinary at all.
"Grisha," Keith muttered bitterly, "you always told me I was 'special'… but who's special now?"
His chest tightened. He looked away.
Erwin, meanwhile, was studying the boy. "Your analysis is impressive. I didn't expect such insight from someone your age."
Armin straightened his back. "My name is Armin Arlert. And, sir, I believe Dr. Grisha's Titan potion isn't meant to harm humanity. Think about it — Brother Zeke can turn into a Titan, can't he? Yet he's never harmed humans. In fact, he defended Wall Maria! If it had fallen, casualties would've been ten times greater than in Shiganshina! That means humans can master Titan power — that we can fight back!"
Erwin's expression softened, but his tone remained steady. "That's a noble interpretation. But we still need to verify it before deciding Brother Yeager's safety. We know nothing about Dr. Grisha's experiments — and you can't imagine the trauma the Titans have inflicted on our soldiers."
Armin followed his gaze. Around them, every Scout's eyes were locked on Zeke — wary, tense, full of unspoken dread.
These soldiers had just returned from Shiganshina. Their uniforms were still crusted with blood.
They weren't cruel to the Yeagers. But the fear Titans inspired was bone-deep.
Armin shivered, remembering the chaos of the attack — the sound of crumbling stone, the screaming, the helplessness. Even now, his hands trembled.
"I know… I know…" His voice faltered as memories flashed before him: the Beast Titan's towering figure, the rain of stones, the hopeless despair. "I just wanted to prove that even if Eren becomes a Titan, he wouldn't harm humans. Please… just untie him. His hands are bound behind his back, the blood circulation will—will stop…"
Erwin's eyes softened slightly as he watched the boy tremble. That shaking — that haunted expression — he'd seen it a hundred times before. Post-traumatic fear. The curse every Scout carried home.
"Tell me, Armin," Erwin said quietly, "you don't really know what Eren will be like when he wakes up, do you?"
Armin looked up, startled. "Eren… it's Eren!" he corrected instinctively.
"But what if," Erwin continued, his tone even, "your best friend turns into a monster? One that tries to eat you. Would you still be his friend… or would you kill him?"
Armin's mouth opened. No sound came out. His face turned pale.
"Erwin, isn't that too harsh for a child?" Hange interjected, half-laughing.
"Perhaps," Erwin said with a faint sigh. "But this world doesn't spare children either."
The wind rustled through the forest. The soldiers had finished breaking camp; horses were being hitched, wagons readied. The column began to move.
Just as the Scouts were about to depart, a cry came from the distance — sharp, urgent.
"It's the Garrison Regiment!" a soldier shouted.
From beyond the trees, two riders burst into view, their flags fluttering red against the green. One of them waved frantically and shouted, "We finally found you, Survey Corps!"
The lead Scout blinked in disbelief. "Really? Took you long enough!"
"Move! Or we'll all be roped into labor duty!" someone joked, and laughter rippled through the ranks as Erwin raised a hand, signaling the column forward.
"Full speed ahead!" he ordered.
In an instant, the Survey Corps came alive. Horses thundered, wheels spun, and the long convoy surged down the path with military precision.
Zeke, sitting awkwardly in the rear carriage, wasn't prepared for the sudden burst of speed. He yelped as the motion threw him backward. "Hey! Slow—!"
Too late.
The wind whipped past, dust swirling in their wake. Within seconds, the entire unit had vanished down the forest road — leaving behind only the stunned garrison rider standing in a cloud of dust, hands still raised in greeting.
He blinked, coughing. "Was that… a carriage?"
Silence. The forest swallowed the sound.
Somewhere far ahead, the Wings of Freedom fluttered, catching the last glint of sunlight before disappearing over the hill.