Time passed quietly. Before anyone realized it, more than ten days had gone by.
At the gates of Wall Sina, Lock and Levi rode side by side as the returning convoy entered the capital. Citizens lined both sides of the avenue, gazes following the Survey Corps with a mixture of awe and gratitude. After surviving wave after wave of Titan incursions, the people's reverence for the Corps had surpassed anything seen in past generations. Of the four military branches, the Survey Corps now stood unquestionably at the top—admired, respected, and envied.
Young boys and girls whispered excitedly, many dreaming of joining the Corps themselves. It was a far cry from the days when the uniform invited ridicule.
Lock encouraged this wave of enthusiasm, but he would never force enlistment. A blade wielded by unwilling hands was worse than useless.
Still, policies had changed.
Only the top twenty graduates from each Training Corps cycle were eligible to apply for the Survey Corps. The choice remained voluntary, but the standard was absolute—no exceptions.
The reason was simple:
The Survey Corps could not afford mediocrity.
Those who soared through training were the ones capable of keeping up with the Corps' relentless battlefield tempo. A single weak link could doom a squad. Lock had learned this truth the hard way through battlefields drenched in blood.
Of course, even selecting the top twenty was not enough to maintain the Corps' numbers. The Survey Corps retained independent authority to recruit its own personnel and maintain reserve units. With expanded responsibilities and the pressure of war, Lock intended to keep the Corps at full strength at all times.
As the escort rode deeper into the capital, Levi finally broke the silence.
"You've done well," he said quietly, eyes scanning the cheering crowds. The faintest trace of relief softened his usually sharp expression.
"I only added polish," Lock replied. "The real credit goes to you—and Kenny Ackerman."
Levi's gaze cooled instantly at the name. There was no love there, not even familiarity—just distance and faint resentment.
Recognizing Levi's disapproval, Lock didn't continue down that topic. Instead, he asked:
"What do you think about choosing inheritors for the Armored and Cart Titans?"
Levi answered without hesitation.
"No opinion. That's your job and Erwin's. I'm just an executor. Do whatever you want—just don't involve me. I'm not interested in becoming a Titan."
"Understood."
Lock nodded, though the problem continued to gnaw at him. Every moment those two Titan powers remained unused was another moment of potential trouble.
Who deserves to inherit them?
Who can be trusted?
Who won't become a future threat?
He had yet to find an ideal answer.
Before he could dwell on it, the welcoming party came into view—Erwin, Zachary, and several senior officers.
Erwin stepped forward immediately, the urgency in his voice poorly concealed:
"Lock, those people—are they still alive?"
His hands trembled slightly. For someone like Erwin, whose composure rarely cracked, that alone spoke volumes.
With Erwin's strategic mind, he knew exactly what a cooperating Marleyan meant. In Lock's letter, the implications were clear—Zeke Yeager could serve as a bridge to the outside world, even to Marley's enemies.
The enemy of your enemy…
He was always the most useful ally.
The hostile nations surrounding the Marley Empire would surely prefer aiding Paradis Island as a counterbalance to Marley's ambitions. And Paradis, starved for technology, resources, and allies, could not afford pride—not when the outside world already regarded them as devils.
Lock nodded. "They're all in the last carriage. Given that I don't fully understand Zeke's intentions, I decided it was safer to keep him bound. His Titan's long-range capabilities pose too great a threat."
Levi's jaw tightened. Even he had struggled facing the Beast Titan head-on. No one objected to Lock's caution.
Zachary glanced around at the crowds watching them from a distance and lowered his voice.
"Lock… are you certain a Marleyan will cooperate sincerely? Given their history with us?"
Lock answered honestly. "No. I don't trust him. But we're out of time. He's the only viable path to establishing contact with the outside world—and we have no other bridge. For now, we must choose to believe him. But we will take every precaution."
Zachary exhaled slowly. "As long as precautions are taken."
There was no safer place to speak further, so the group proceeded into the Council Hall. After the convoy dispersed, Lock, Erwin, and Zachary took their seats behind closed doors to discuss the matter Lock had been wrestling with since the battle:
Who should inherit the Armored Titan—and the Cart Titan?
Lock had already discarded the idea of absorbing all Titan powers personally. That path invited suspicion, fear, and internal collapse. Even allies like Erwin and Zachary would eventually grow wary.
Consolidating everything in one hand was both dangerous and short-sighted.
Power, to be stable, had to be shared—but only within a controlled circle.
Lock's gaze swept across the table.
They would decide the future of Titan power together.
And with that, the real discussion began.
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