"I don't understand—but this is the only way to uncover the one pulling the strings," said Zeke calmly.
Erwin's voice rose in disbelief. "The only way?!" His composure finally broke. "Zeke, the Shiganshina District has just gone through a catastrophe! The people are terrified—half the population lost their families! Even the royal government is scrambling to appease them. They've issued over a dozen proclamations denouncing the Titans, trying to calm the masses!"
He took a sharp breath and continued, words spilling out faster, angrier.
"Right now, your existence—your very identity—is still classified within the Survey Corps. Only a few rumors have leaked, and nobody outside knows whether to believe them. But if I hand you over now… there's no turning back!"
He grabbed Zeke's collar, shaking with restrained rage. "The royal government will have no choice but to execute you publicly! That's how they'll stabilize the people—by offering them your head! They won't care if you were the one who saved Wall Maria's inner gate, or if you could be humanity's last hope! They'll crush you to preserve their power. That's what short-sighted men do!"
Erwin's voice cracked. "That's how my father died—swallowed by human greed! Do you understand?! They'll kill you too!"
The words ended in a hoarse choke. His hand, gripping Zeke's collar, trembled before falling away.
"You can't die," he whispered. "You're humanity's only hope of striking back at the Titans… I've always believed that."
Zeke waited for the storm to pass, watching quietly as Erwin's anger drained into despair. Then, in that heavy silence, he spoke softly—too calmly.
"You feel powerless too, don't you?" he asked. "You talk of saving humanity, but you're only a squad leader. Your ideas can't shake your superiors. They're the towering trees; you're just an ant beneath them. How can an ant shake a tree?"
Erwin let out a bitter laugh. "You're right. I can't even sway my own captain's will, let alone anyone higher. I joined the Survey Corps because I wanted the truth my father died for to see daylight… but what can one man do?"
He looked down at his hands. They trembled faintly. He wanted to grasp something—anything—but nothing was there to hold.
"Hand me over," Zeke said. "Gather the nobles, the people. Let their voices press against the government. It's the only way to drag the truth into the light."
Erwin stared at him, appalled. "And if you die? Then humanity loses its last chance!"
"Don't worry," Zeke said, almost smiling. "I'm not humanity's only hope. I never was." His gaze dimmed. "I wanted to be. But it's too hard… I can't do it anymore."
For a moment, he wasn't the mysterious Beast Titan or the calculating warrior—just a man who'd tried and failed too many times.
"Not only?" Erwin caught the word, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean by that?"
Zeke's expression hardened. "You don't need to know. Just remember—I'm the only one who can turn into a Titan. That's all."
Erwin lunged forward, grabbing his collar again. "Who else has the power?!"
This time, Zeke caught his wrist, his grip iron-strong. His voice dropped to a near whisper.
"You'll find that answer… after I'm gone."
For a long moment, they held each other's gaze—two men bound by conviction and futility. Then Erwin released his grip, his expression solemn.
"...I understand."
He straightened, drew in a breath, and made the Survey Corps' heart salute.
"Humanity will remember you, Zeke Yeager."
Zeke gave no response.
Later — Back at the Survey Corps Headquarters
When Erwin returned, Mike nearly dropped his clipboard. "E-Erwin?! You're alive?! Are you okay?!"
"I'm fine," Erwin said, brushing the dust from his coat. "Just a scratch. But while I was recovering, the captain of Team Three decided to give me… some very thorough guidance."
Mike blinked. "Uh… guidance?"
Before he could ask, Hange came barreling down the hallway. "Zeke! You're awake! You're not hurt, right?"
Zeke blinked, expression unreadable. "…I'm fine."
"Why didn't you wake up earlier? You scared me half to death!"
Zeke arched an eyebrow. "Wouldn't I have gotten beaten if I woke up earlier?"
Hange stopped mid-rant, thinking. "…Fair point."
Soon after, Zeke was returned to his cell. Thanks to Erwin's intervention, the conditions were far less brutal—no more suspension rack, no chains biting into his wrists. The cell was still small, barely four square meters, but he could move freely now.
He sat quietly on the narrow bed, staring across the dim room at the old stuffed monkey that someone—Hange, no doubt—had left behind. For once, he looked peaceful. Or maybe just tired.
He didn't know how much time passed before footsteps echoed outside. The door creaked open, flooding the cell with light.
Erwin entered first, Keith Shadis following behind. The older man's presence filled the room, his expression as stern as ever.
"I've heard your request from Erwin," Keith said without preamble. "But I don't agree."
Zeke raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
Keith's reply came sharp and fierce. "Your father sacrificed everything to bring you into this world. Do you think he did it just so you could die?"
Zeke's gaze was steady. "Are you saying this for my father's sake—or for humanity's?"
Keith hesitated. The silence stretched.
Though Zeke barely knew the current commander, he could sense the man's connection to his father. The familiarity in Keith's tone, the weight in his words—it wasn't professional. It was personal.
He remembered the journey back from Trost District, how Keith—then leading the Survey Corps—had ridden silently behind the carriage carrying Dina and Eren. The way his eyes had lingered on them told Zeke all he needed to know.
Finally, Keith exhaled and sat down heavily on a nearby chair. "Your father was a great man," he said, his voice quieter now. "Others might call him reckless, a mad scientist even—but to me, he was extraordinary. Because of him, humanity gained the ability to transform into Titans. Because of him, we have a weapon to fight back. For that alone, I'll call him great."
He met Zeke's eyes. "That's why I don't want his son to die. Tell me what you know. I'll protect you as long as I can. Before the royal government moves against you, there's still time to act."
"What kind of action?" Zeke asked softly.
"Find evidence of the Titan experiments," Keith said. "Expose whoever's manipulating events from the shadows. If we can find them first, we'll seize the advantage."
Zeke smiled faintly, almost pitying. "And if we do find them?"
"Then we prove that your father's work—your existence—is for humanity's benefit."
Zeke's smile didn't fade. "And if it isn't?"
Keith froze, his conviction faltering for the first time.
Zeke watched him quietly. He could see the doubt flicker behind the man's eyes—the fear that maybe, just maybe, his old friend's legacy wasn't salvation at all.
"The Titans," Zeke said softly, "never existed to save humanity."
(To be continued in Part 2.)