The morning air was sharp, carrying the scent of dust and blood from the previous day's battle. Lock stood at the edge of the barracks courtyard, fastening the clasps on his ODM Gear while the faint light of dawn spilled across the rooftops. The events of the past few days still echoed in his mind—the growing unrest within the Walls, the hidden movements of the royal government, and above all, the plan that now depended on Grisha Yeager's success.
There was one final piece left to secure: the capture of Dina Fritz, the so-called "Smiling Titan." A crucial figure. Too important to risk mishandling.
Lock knew the implications of failure.
If he could retrieve Dina and keep her under their control, the Survey Corps would hold leverage unlike anything the government or Marley could anticipate. But if she escaped—or was killed—the threads connecting the Founding Titan's power might be lost forever.
He would not allow that.
"Everyone ready?" Lock said, voice calm but cold. "We move now."
Within moments, the team of elite soldiers—handpicked from the most skilled among the Corps—secured their harnesses. Steam hissed as their ODM gas canisters engaged, and with a synchronized pull of their triggers, they launched into the air.
"Move at full speed!" Lock commanded. "We locate the target before sunrise!"
The morning wind roared past as they swept over the outer rooftops of the Shiganshina ruins.
Lock's squad advanced swiftly, cutting across the wreckage of old homes, their steel cables flashing in the dim light. Ahead of them, a single massive figure moved clumsily between the broken structures—its body familiar to Lock even from this distance.
Dina Fritz.
She wandered with the eerie, humanlike smile that had haunted the nightmares of many. Her expression was grotesquely serene, her empty eyes half-lidded as if she understood something no one else could.
Lock halted on a tall building and gestured for his team to stay back. "Hold position. I'll draw her to the perimeter."
"Understood, sir!" Petra Rall's clear voice replied through the receiver.
The others—Gunther Schultz, Eld Jinn, Oluo Bozado, and several new squad members—spread out to control the flanks.
Lock took a deep breath, then leapt forward.
His cables clanged against metal as he swung low, closing in on the lumbering Titan. He didn't strike. Instead, he fired a flare into the air—a bright burst of red that drew the Titan's attention instantly.
Dina's massive eyes turned. Her grotesque grin widened, and she began to move.
"Good," Lock muttered. "Follow me."
He led her deliberately toward the edge of the district, clearing the path of other Pure Titans with quick, efficient slashes. Each kill was precise—clean, practiced, emotionless. Behind him, the thundering steps of the fifteen-meter Titan grew closer, shaking the broken stone beneath his boots.
On the walls ahead, Petra had already arranged the support units. They were prepared to lure away stray Titans and open a path for the capture.
When Lock's flare signaled approach, Hange Zoë adjusted her goggles and peered through the steam rising from the battlefield. "There he is," she murmured. "And that Titan… something about her feels off."
Petra nodded, eyes fixed on Lock's movement. "He must have his reasons. He doesn't risk his life without one."
Hange smirked. "You sound like his disciple. If Lock told you to jump off the wall, would you?"
Petra's cheeks flushed. "If it served the mission."
Hange blinked, then laughed. "Unbelievable. You're hopeless."
Still, even as she teased, her gaze returned to the approaching Titan. Something about its smile unsettled her.
Lock landed on the final rooftop before the wall and turned to face Dina Fritz. His blades gleamed silver in the morning light.
"Right here," he said quietly. "Let's finish this."
The Titan's enormous shadow loomed over him. She reached out with one massive hand, her fingers twitching toward him like claws.
Lock's cables fired. He twisted upward, spinning in the air, and both blades sliced downward in a flash of steel.
"Too slow."
With one swift rotation, he severed the Titan's wrist tendons. Steam erupted. The enormous hand fell uselessly to her side. Lock didn't hesitate—his next strikes landed at the joints of her arms, cutting cleanly through sinew and bone.
A sharp hiss of vapor burst from the wounds. The Titan's arms collapsed.
"Next—your legs."
Lock fired his anchors again, landing against the Titan's thigh. A single slash and the flesh gave way, sending her to her knees with a heavy crash. The ground trembled.
Now crippled, the Titan still didn't scream. She simply stared at him—smiling that same hollow, knowing smile.
Lock's eyes narrowed. "Still smiling… even now?"
He landed on her chest, crouched low, and plunged both blades into her jaw. The impact tore through her mouth, rendering her incapable of biting or howling. Steam poured from the gaping wound.
Then he whispered, so softly only he could hear:
"Don't worry. You'll see him soon."
It was as if the Titan understood. Her movements slowed, and her breathing—if it could be called that—fell into a strange rhythm.
Moments later, Petra and Hange arrived, their ODM lines clinking against the Titan's still form. Both landed beside Lock, taking in the sight of the restrained, dismembered creature.
"She's… just another Pure Titan," Hange said quietly, puzzled. "So why risk your life to bring this one back?"
Lock didn't answer immediately. He cleaned the blood from his blades, eyes fixed on the Titan's eerie expression.
"Dangerous," Hange continued, her voice rising. "You went deep into the central zone alone! You could've been killed!"
Lock turned his head slightly, meeting her stare with calm detachment. "Not dangerous. Calculated."
"Don't play games with me, Lock," she said, irritation clear in her tone. "What makes this Titan special?"
Lock's lips curved faintly. "She seems to like me."
Hange froze, then frowned. "That's not funny."
"I wasn't joking."
She sighed in exasperation, pulling off her goggles. "Fine. You keep your secrets. But I'll find out myself. I'll dissect her if I have to."
Petra interjected quietly, "Captain, maybe that's enough for now. Let's just secure her first."
Lock nodded. "We're moving her inside the Wall. She's a priority target."
"But—"
"That's an order," Lock said sharply. "Move her before other Titans catch the scent of blood."
Hange hesitated. Then, reluctantly, she saluted. "Yes, Deputy Commander."
Even so, her eyes gleamed with defiance. She wasn't done questioning him.
The soldiers below began executing the capture procedure. Steel cables were embedded deep into the Titan's torso as winches on the wall slowly drew her up, inch by inch. The ground shook beneath the strain.
Lock remained on the wall's edge, watching every detail, ready to intervene at the first sign of instability. Petra coordinated the squad's movements with flawless efficiency—her voice cutting through the roaring steam.
"Line two, stabilize her left shoulder! Line three, pull steady!"
Gradually, the mutilated Titan rose above the parapet, steaming heavily, her limp limbs dangling over the wall. The operation, against all odds, was a success.
When Dina Fritz was finally secured inside the Wall, Hange exhaled, still staring at her with fascination.
"She's… unsettling," Hange murmured. "That expression—why does it feel like she recognizes him?"
Lock didn't respond. His gaze remained cold, distant.
Inside, though, he felt the faintest flicker of conflict.
He knew who she had once been. He knew what she meant to Grisha Yeager—and by extension, to everything that would come next. But those were truths that could never leave his lips, not yet. The Corps needed stability, not the chaos of revelation.
"Maintain guard," he ordered. "No one approaches her without authorization. Hange, you'll get your study later. Right now, she's too valuable."
Hange crossed her arms. "Fine. But you're going to tell me what this is really about, Lock. Eventually."
Lock turned away, his cloak catching the wind. "When the time is right."
By nightfall, the Titan had been restrained deep within a reinforced storage chamber near the base. Steam continued to rise from her wounds, filling the air with a faint metallic scent.
Lock stood before the reinforced gates, silent. The torchlight flickered across his expression—calm, but heavy with purpose.
Dina Fritz, the Smiling Titan, was now within their grasp.
The next step of the plan could finally begin.
Lock exhaled slowly. "We've taken one more step forward."
Petra approached from behind, her voice soft. "Do you ever rest, Commander?"
He didn't turn. "Not until it's over."
She smiled faintly, though her eyes reflected worry. "Then it might be a long time before you do."
"Maybe," Lock replied. "But until then, we move."
Outside, the wind howled against the Wall, carrying the faint echo of something vast and distant—an omen of the storm yet to come.
And in the dark, behind the sealed chamber doors, Dina Fritz's lips still curved upward in that haunting, eternal smile.
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