Keith Shadis finally understood. Every word, every hesitation from Zeke now made perfect sense.
"I see now," Keith said quietly, his eyes hardening. "I'll investigate in secret—and act once I have proof."
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and left.
The Next Day
When Keith reappeared in the dungeon, even Zeke was taken aback.
The commander's uniform hung loose on his thinner frame. His face looked drawn, the lines of fatigue carving deep shadows beneath his eyes. His hair—once dense and dark—now showed clear patches of thinning where stress had taken its toll.
"As agreed," Keith began, his voice rough, "I'm here to report the results of my investigation."
Zeke studied him silently.
"My investigation…" Keith exhaled, rubbing his temples. "…turned up nothing. Not a single family matches your description. None lost members on the night of Shiganshina's fall, and none have the… the pattern you described—someone dying every thirteen years."
He lifted his tired eyes. "Zeke, does this family of yours even exist?"
Zeke's gaze fell to the stone floor. "It exists," he said softly. "But if they've survived this long, then they're hiding something far more important than we thought."
That much was obvious. The true king of the Walls would not let his secrets surface easily. Hiding the Titan bloodline, the history of the Zachary—covering it all up was only natural.
Keith let out a long sigh, half frustration, half relief. "Then… there's no other way."
Zeke shook his head. "It's fine. Hand me over. I've already accepted it. Whatever happens, at least the people will learn the truth."
Keith ran a hand through his hair in exasperation—only to find a small clump of it coming loose in his fingers. He stared at it for a moment, horrified. "…I just discussed your case with several regiment and corps commanders," he said, trying to ignore it. "They were shocked by what I told them—and all insisted on meeting you personally."
"Oh?" Zeke raised an eyebrow. "There are still people brave enough for that?"
"But I refused," Keith muttered bitterly, looking at the hair in his hand. "And now I regret both the answer and—apparently—my scalp. I didn't want to pull it out, but it just… happens!"
Zeke blinked. "…Why refuse?"
Keith's expression hardened. "Because one of those who wanted to see you was Nile Dok, head of the Military Police Brigade. And not long after you were captured, Erwin was nearly assassinated outside the royal palace."
Zeke's eyes narrowed.
Keith nodded grimly. "The Military Police Brigade are rooted too deep in the capital. I can't risk letting them near you. So I refused everyone."
"…I see," Zeke murmured.
"But after that," Keith went on, "rumors spread that you plan to transform at the public trial—to murder the king and other high officials."
Zeke didn't speak, but a flicker of unease passed through his face.
"I argued against them," Keith continued wearily. "Told them you can't transform without an injection. We've searched you head to toe, and there's no serum on you. Even when Mike tortured you, you didn't change—that proves you can't. I made it clear that at a public trial, you're no threat to anyone."
Zeke's voice was calm, but his eyes were distant. "…They won't believe that."
"Exactly!" Keith slammed a fist into the wall in frustration. "They don't believe anything unless it fits their fear! Still… Commander-in-Chief Thaddeus Zachary seems intrigued by you. He's sending one of his own doctors to examine your injuries and confirm my report. So, when the doctor arrives—don't resist."
"…Understood."
Zeke smiled faintly to himself. The injuries he'd once cursed now had their use. They were proof of his "helplessness"—a reason to stop the beatings, even for a while.
Keith stood. "If the doctor's report clears you, the public trial will proceed. Don't worry, Zeke—I'll do everything I can to keep you alive, and in the Survey Corps' custody."
Zeke nodded silently.
Keith turned and left, Erwin following close behind.
Outside the Dungeon
Once they emerged into the cold air of the corridor, Erwin finally spoke. "Captain, the truth is nearly in our hands. Why do you still sigh like that?"
Keith gave a humorless chuckle. "Because I'm terrible at this sort of thing. Politics. Deception. Negotiations." He rubbed at his temples again. "The past few days of dealing with those pompous aristocrats have taken years off my life."
He glanced sideways at Erwin. "If I'd sent you to handle them, you'd have done it easily, wouldn't you?"
Erwin blinked. "Sir?"
"Never mind," Keith muttered. "Forget I said anything."
He clenched his fists. Now's not the time to think about stepping down. Not when so much was at stake.
"I'll admit," he went on quietly, "when the investigation turned up nothing, I felt… relieved. Like a weight had lifted from my chest."
Erwin frowned slightly.
"I kept thinking," Keith continued, voice trembling just a little, "if a Titan really appeared inside the Walls, how would we fight it? Could our soldiers even survive the encounter? How many innocent people would die in the crossfire?"
He stared at his hands—the same hands that once held command over thousands of lives.
"If our comrades were captured—turned into Titans by that damned serum—would I really be able to give the order to kill them?"
He exhaled shakily. "I thought about it all night, and never found an answer. So when the scouts reported nothing, I felt… grateful. Like I'd been given a reprieve."
He gave a bitter laugh. "Ridiculous, isn't it? The fool who only knew how to charge ahead—afraid to fight."
Erwin's heart clenched. He'd seen the burden on his captain before, but never so plainly.
Then Keith turned, his expression suddenly sharp. "But you, Erwin—you could do it, couldn't you?"
"…What?"
"You could give that order. The cruel one who closed the gates of Shiganshina. Who left the refugees outside to die. Killing your own soldiers for the greater good shouldn't trouble you."
Erwin froze, the old memory cutting deep.
That day… he'd disobeyed Keith's order. Keith had wanted to keep the gates open—save everyone, no matter the cost. But Erwin had seen the truth: their ammo was gone, their numbers dwindling. If they let the crowd and Titans pour in, humanity would lose everything.
He'd ordered the gates closed. And when the screams faded, the silence that followed had never left him.
He'd expected punishment afterward—court-martial, demotion, even execution. But Keith had said nothing.
Until now.
"…Captain," Erwin murmured, lowering his head.
Keith looked away. "The next battle will be harder than any before. Erwin—are you ready?"
"Yes," Erwin said firmly. "Always."
"Good." Keith's tone softened, if only a little. "Then for the next two days, you'll stay by my side. Leave a few of your men to guard the dungeon."
Erwin hesitated. The order made little sense—but the conviction in his leader's eyes silenced all protest.
He straightened and saluted. "Understood, Commander."
Keith nodded once, his shadow long against the torchlit wall.
For a fleeting moment, Erwin thought he saw the weight of the world pressing down on the old man's shoulders.
But Keith only adjusted his cloak, hiding the exhaustion in his eyes.
"Let's see this through," he said quietly. "No matter what happens."
And together, the two men walked down the corridor—toward a truth that would soon tear everything apart.