Outside the walls of Shiganshina District, while Lock was overseeing the newly expanded garrison's military training, far within Wall Sina, Grisha had already begun the next step of his long-brewing plan.
Night fell quietly over the capital. The stars hung like shards of glass in a velvet sky, their light reflected on the polished stone streets below. Behind tall windows, families sat together near their hearths, laughter rising with the smell of freshly baked bread. Children dozed on their mothers' laps; fathers discussed the day's work, believing their city untouchable, safe from the horrors beyond the walls.
To most inside Wall Sina, this was paradise—abundant food, grand architecture, stable order. The wars and the Titans felt like distant rumors, confined to faraway districts. But paradise, as always, was built on denial.
That illusion shattered in an instant.
A single, shrill scream split the night. Then another. Shouts followed—panic, disbelief, horror. The tranquility fractured under the sound of collapsing roofs and terrified cries.
"What is that—?!"
"My God, it's a Titan! There are Titans inside the Wall!"
"Impossible! How could they be here?!"
"Where are the Garrison and the Military Police?!"
Chaos erupted as massive shadows lumbered through the Berlinsk District—the very heart of the royal capital, where the wealthy and powerful lived. More than a dozen Titans had appeared without warning, tearing through streets and homes like paper. Some were trapped in narrow alleyways, their shoulders wedged between stone walls; others broke free, crushing citizens beneath their feet.
The capital, untouched for over a century, now echoed with the same screams that had once haunted Shiganshina.
Neil Deke, commander of the Military Police, had been dining with his family when a trembling soldier burst into his home.
"Commander—urgent report!" The young man's face was pale, sweat dripping down his chin. "Titans have appeared inside Wall Sina!"
Neil shot to his feet, his chair scraping hard against the floor. "What did you say?! Titans—inside the Wall?!"
"Yes, sir! Over a dozen! Casualties are already in the dozens, maybe more. They're in—"
"In which district?" Neil demanded, gripping the soldier's shoulder.
"The Berlinsk District, sir. Where most of the nobles reside."
Neil's face drained of all color. His knees nearly gave way, and he collapsed into his chair, whispering, "It's over…"
The Berlinsk District was the most fortified and prestigious neighborhood within the capital—home to high-ranking officers, ministers, and wealthy merchants. The appearance of Titans there wasn't just a catastrophe—it was political suicide for the Garrison and Military Police. If any of the nobles died, the chaos wouldn't stop with the streets; it would ripple through the entire power structure of the Walls.
For a brief, shameful moment, Neil felt relief that he had chosen to move his family away from that district. But the thought passed as quickly as it came. He had no time to hesitate.
"Send word to the Survey Corps immediately," he ordered, his voice shaking but firm. "Request full support from Commander Erwin. Mobilize every available soldier in the capital and coordinate with the Garrison Corps. We have to contain them before dawn!"
"Yes, Commander!"
The soldier saluted and sprinted out.
Neil stood by the window, watching smoke rise in the distance. "How… how did they get in?" he muttered. The question twisted his gut. Titans weren't supposed to appear within the inner walls—certainly not this deep. No breaches had been reported. No alerts from the Wall Guard.
There was only one answer he could think of, and it chilled him to the bone: this wasn't an accident.
Meanwhile, in a dimly lit office at the Survey Corps outpost near Wall Sina's inner gate, Erwin Smith stood by his window, watching the distant glow of fire reflect off the clouds.
"Lock," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "So… it begins."
He folded his hands behind his back, his expression unreadable—part resignation, part grim determination. "No destruction, no construction," he said quietly. "If we're to rebuild this world, we must first tear down the illusion that sustains it."
He had known this moment would come. Lock's unspoken plan—to release a limited number of Titans inside the capital—wasn't born of cruelty, but of necessity. The corruption at the heart of the royal government could not be dismantled through politics or reason. Only fear could shake those at the top from their complacency.
The sound of distant bells carried faintly through the air—alarms spreading across the city. Erwin exhaled slowly. "I hope you know what you're doing, Lock. I've staked our future on you."
He turned, pulling open a concealed panel behind his desk. A narrow passage extended downward, leading to a sealed chamber. Without hesitation, Erwin disappeared into the shadows, leaving his office empty.
Moments later, another soldier burst in, gasping for air. "Commander Erwin! Commander—where are you?! Titans have breached the capital!" His frantic footsteps echoed through the empty hall, but the captain was nowhere to be found.
At the heart of the chaos, the Garrison Corps and Military Police tried to mount a defense. The night should have been their advantage—the Titans were slower, their movements sluggish under the moonlight—but the streets were flooded with torches and lanterns, the glow of the city so bright it mimicked daylight.
That light, which once symbolized civilization, has now become their undoing. The Titans' eyes gleamed in the brightness, their sluggishness fading as they grew more active.
The soldiers fought valiantly, but their blades trembled in untrained hands. Many hadn't seen battle since their graduation. For years, they had guarded gates and escorted nobles—never Titans. Panic spread faster than command.
A captain shouted over the din, "Form a perimeter! Don't let them reach the inner square!"
"Commander Deke!" another voice cried. "Two Abnormal Titans are heading straight for the district center!"
Neil drew his sword and gritted his teeth. "Damn it! Engage! Hold the line!"
The ground shook as one of the Abnormals—a twisted, four-meter crawler—lunged forward, scattering soldiers like leaves. The other, towering over ten meters, let out a deafening roar that shattered glass and courage alike.
Flames illuminated the destruction—the once-pristine mansions now piles of debris. Screams rose from every direction, blending into an endless, wailing chorus.
Neil's mind reeled. "Where is the Survey Corps?! Why haven't they arrived yet?!"
But no answer came. His men looked at him with hollow eyes—fear, exhaustion, and resignation. Many had never expected to die in combat. And now, under the same moonlight that had once promised peace, they realized they were trapped inside a nightmare.
Hours passed before the distant thunder of ODM gear finally echoed through the city.
"Blades—prepare! Survey Corps incoming!"
A voice rang from above. "Hold your positions! Reinforcements are here!"
Figures swooped through the air, their maneuvering lines cutting across the rooftops. The green cloaks of the Survey Corps fluttered in the firelight, their insignia catching the glow—the Wings of Freedom.
They moved with precision, striking swiftly at the Titans' napes. The chaos began to shift. Within minutes, the tide of battle turned.
For the civilians, it was salvation. For the military elite, it was humiliation. The same soldiers they had mocked and marginalized were now the ones saving their city.
High above, perched on the remnants of a roof, a lone soldier observed the carnage below. His hood concealed his face, but his tone was calm, almost cold.
"It worked."
He turned away from the smoke-filled skyline, whispering to himself, "The balance has been broken. From here… everything changes."
The figure disappeared into the shadows—Lock's presence like a ghost passing through the heart of a collapsing order.
By dawn, the streets were silent again. The Titans had been slain, their corpses smoldering in the ruins. The air reeked of blood and smoke. Soldiers dragged bodies—some human, some monstrous—into heaps.
Neil stood amidst the destruction, his uniform torn, his eyes hollow. The capital had survived, but the cost was staggering. He looked up at the brightening sky and muttered, "The age of peace… is over."
Somewhere far beyond the walls, Lock continued his preparations, knowing the dominoes had begun to fall exactly as planned.
For humanity to move forward, the false paradise had to burn.
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