Zeke never thought the next day would begin with a bucket of freezing water splashed across his face.
"Who are you?" he coughed, blinking through the droplets stinging his eyes. A soldier stood before him—Survey Corps uniform, but a face he didn't recognize. The man's eyes burned with anger and hatred so raw it almost radiated heat.
Who is this guy?
Where's Erwin?
And what's with that look?
Zeke's mind churned as realization dawned. He's projecting all his hatred for the Titans… onto me.
The situation on the island already looked bleak—but his own was far worse. His wrists and ankles were bound tight to an iron rack. The chains bit into his skin. He couldn't move at all.
A sick sense of dread crept up his spine.
The soldier grabbed his hair roughly and hissed, "It's all your fault Erwin was assassinated! Tell me the truth—how many accomplices do you have?"
"Accomplice?" Zeke managed to mutter—before a fist slammed into his face.
The impact rattled his skull. Blood pooled in his mouth.
"I told them Erwin was too soft on you!" the soldier roared. "How could you let a monster eat, drink, and sleep comfortably? You should've done whatever it took to get the truth out of him!"
"Whatever it took?"
Oh no.
Zeke immediately understood.
This man wasn't like Erwin—calm and measured. This one was pure brutality, cruelty wrapped in a uniform. Every strike landed where it hurt most. By the time Zeke's lips were split and his body screamed with pain, the man seized him by the hair again and spat, "What's wrong? Angry? Want to kill me? Then do it! Turn into a Titan and eat me!"
So this was a test—to force his transformation.
Zeke spat a bloody tooth onto the ground, gave a faint grin, and croaked, "What's your name?"
"Miche Zacharias," the man said coldly. "Captain of the Survey Corps' Third Division. Remember that name! When you finally turn into a Titan—come find me for revenge!"
Another brutal punch followed.
That day, Zeke endured torture so relentless it blurred time itself. Michael pulled nails, yanked teeth, burned him with red-hot irons—every method he could devise to push Zeke past his breaking point.
But Zeke never transformed.
His screams echoed through the dungeon, so loud that even the prisoners in the upper levels froze in terror.
"Brother…?"
"Captain…?"
The children called weakly from their cells, voices trembling. But instead of comfort, a new silhouette appeared at their door—cold, unfamiliar.
…
By the time Zeke lost consciousness, he'd already wished for death a dozen times. When his senses returned, he heard Michael's rough voice: "Spray him again. Pepper spray—wake him up."
Zeke's thoughts blurred. Not again…
He'd already lost count of how many times that burning pain had seared his face. The agony was beyond anything he'd suffered—even Levi's "human stick" torture in his previous life.
In those delirious moments, he vowed that if he ever got the chance, he'd make Michael drink that entire bottle of pepper spray.
But this time, another voice stopped him.
"What are you doing? I told you not to provoke him!"
Michael snarled. "What then? Treat him like a guest? Don't forget, this man is a Titan! How many comrades have died to those monsters? Those soldiers could've gone home—had dinner with their mothers! And now you want me to show mercy?"
"Zeke isn't a Titan," the voice countered sharply. "He's a human who transforms into one."
"What's the difference? Can you swear he won't lose control the moment he changes? He's already eaten one and a half people!"
The argument went on endlessly, echoing through Zeke's haze of pain.
Eventually, Michael's angry voice cut through again. "Hange, don't be soft-hearted! Kindness to the enemy is cruelty to ourselves!"
…
Zeke didn't know how long passed before Hange left. All he knew was that when he next woke up—his face raw and burning from another pepper-spray revival—Michael was back.
And the torture resumed.
When Zeke's breath finally grew shallow and his consciousness flickered like a dying candle, someone muttered nearby, "Even after all that, he still hasn't transformed… maybe he was telling the truth. The injections really are the only way."
"This brat hasn't said a word…"
"Maybe Captain Erwin's judgment was right after all…"
Another voice cursed. "Erwin was stabbed because of his trust in that bastard! His life or death's still unknown!"
That one phrase—"life or death unknown"—slipped through the fog and gave Zeke a flicker of hope. So… he's still alive.
But then—what did they mean by accomplices? He had taken plenty of blame in his time, but this was one he didn't even understand.
"Not only did this kid refuse to turn into a Titan, he also didn't talk," a soldier grumbled. "Why's he so stubborn?"
"Maybe he really doesn't know anything," another said. "The kids didn't say a word either, no matter how we threatened or bribed them. That proves they're clueless."
"Ha! How naïve can you get? You'd trust some stranger from outside the walls? The captain trusted Grisha easily enough, and look what that brought us. Now Erwin's done the same! I won't make that mistake. I'll never believe a Titan-turned-human."
A door creaked open.
"Mike?" someone called.
The man stepped inside—the same monster who'd tortured him. Zeke lifted his head with effort, blinking through blood and sweat.
Michael held a knife this time.
Zeke almost laughed. After all the sadistic tools he'd seen, a knife seemed almost quaint. "What's this, another trick? Are knives the best you people can do?"
"There's no trick." Michael crouched down, pressing the flat of the blade against Zeke's chest.
His gaze was calm now—too calm. "I'm going to execute you. We can't let a creature that endangers humanity live any longer. And if you've really told us everything you know, then you've outlived your use."
He tapped the blade gently against Zeke's chest. "The heart… is right here."
Zeke sighed. So tedious.
Even now, he refused to flinch. Every nerve in his body focused on his brain, ready to protect it. No matter what this man did to his heart, he wouldn't die easily.
"You won't kill me," Zeke said quietly. "People who talk this much never do. You're trying to intimidate me, not finish me off. But it's pointless—I've already told you everything I know. You can torture, lie, threaten, or kill me—it won't change that. I can't tell you what I don't know."
Michael's lips curled. "Who said I was trying to scare you?"
And before Zeke could reply—pain exploded through his chest.