My brows were tightly furrowed as I stared at my hands, trying to remember what the others described—two-meter-long crystalline weapons, sharp as blades, formed from my arms. According to Mikasa, and what fragmented memories I could piece together, I had apparently fought my way back from the outer gates of Trost all the way to the inner wall...
"…I will give everything I have—my heart—for humanity!"
I straightened up and met Commander Pixis's eyes with firm resolve.
"Hmm…" Pixis let his stern expression fade slightly, giving both me and Eren a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You both speak well… true soldiers, through and through."
With that, he walked over to the edge of the wall and called down to the troops below.
"Summon the staff officers! We need a battle plan!"
A long sigh escaped me.
Eren gave my back a firm pat.
"We can do this," he said, his voice low but full of confidence.
"Yeah." I offered a faint smile, gazing down at Trost District, now overrun by Titans.
"Ugh… this can't actually be happening, right?" Armin muttered beside us. "We're just playing war with words—no way they're really going to go through with it."
"But there's no point questioning him now," Eren said, sitting down beside me, looking over the devastated city. "Commander Pixis… I think he's trying to see something we can't."
"Something we can't see?" Armin echoed.
"More importantly," Eren continued, "he's realized the truth—that our only enemies aren't just the Titans."
I let out a slow breath.
"So much has happened today…" I muttered, crouching slightly from the fatigue.
"Are you alright?" Mikasa moved beside me, always attentive. But before she could do much more, a voice interrupted us.
"We don't have a second to waste," Pixis said.
We all straightened as he approached with two of his trusted aides.
"Let's show them what you're made of, my young soldiers."
That single sentence from Pixis wasn't just approval—it was trust.
He had placed the hopes of reclaiming Trost, and the lives of its citizens, into our hands.
————————————————————————————
Below the inner wall, the soldiers gathered.
They had already tasted hell outside the wall. Now, they were being ordered to march straight back into it—on a mission to plug a gaping hole in Trost.
"To actually go through with this plan…?" murmurs of disbelief spread like wildfire.
"This is a joke, right? There's no actual way to seal a gate that size… What are the higher-ups thinking?"
The mood was sinking fast.
Fear, the kind you can't reason with, crept through the ranks.
"We're just marching to our deaths if we enter Trost…"
"If we can't seal the breach, all we can do is die defending Wall Rose…"
"Dammit! Is Pixis just trying to play hero?!"
Doubt swelled into unrest. The soldiers were on the verge of mutiny.
Marco scanned the crowd anxiously. The nervous tension was undeniable.
Beside him, Daz—another cadet from the 104th Training Corps—was already falling apart.
"That hell… again? No! I don't want to die! Let me see my family!!"
Daz clasped his head, trembling violently.
"Keep it down, Daz!" Marco hissed, trying to cover his friend's mouth. But it was too late.
"You there! I heard that! Are you abandoning your post?!"
A Garrison soldier stormed toward them.
"Yes! That's right!" Daz yelled, defiantly. "This mission is suicide! There's no purpose, no victory—just death!"
The soldier's hand went straight to the hilt of his blade.
"You'd abandon humanity?! Do you understand military discipline?! I have the authority to execute you right here!"
"Well, that'd be better than being eaten alive!!" Daz snapped.
"Stop it, Daz!" Marco gripped his shoulders tightly, trying to stop the situation from spiraling.
"Let me go! Who wants to walk back into that nightmare?!"
Fear spread like rot through the formation. The uncertainty was infectious.
Elsewhere, in the rear, Jean stood quietly. In front of him, two female cadets were huddled together.
"I just… I just want to choose how I die…" one of them whispered.
They couldn't move forward. The horrors of the day had left them numb.
"Hey! You there!" a Garrison soldier barked, walking over.
"W-We were just joking…" one of the girls stammered.
"…Then do it. Go ahead."
Surprisingly, the soldier didn't reprimand them.
He encouraged them.
"The more that leave, the better. There are plenty in the Garrison who feel the same. Use the chaos—get out."
Jean finally spoke up. "Leave? Go where, exactly?"
They were still inside the Walls. Escaping wasn't easy.
"To see my daughter," the man said simply. "This wall's not going to hold for long anyway…"
————————————————————————————
Up above, on the wall, Hannes was reloading the fixed cannons, preparing for the next wave of Titan attacks.
He heard approaching footsteps and voices coming from his right.
Looking over, he spotted Commander Pixis… and trailing behind him—me and Eren.
"Huh? Sandra? Eren? What the hell are they doing with the Commander?"
Hannes narrowed his eyes, wondering if Mikasa and Armin were alright.
But as he saw us walking in step with Pixis, both Eren and I turned to him.
I gave Hannes a small nod of reassurance.
Eren, of course, offered a smirk—and a look that said: Don't get distracted. Do your job.
"Tch… That brat's got no respect for authority…" Hannes muttered with a shake of his head. But even so, his worry lingered.
As we walked, Pixis pulled out his ever-present flask and took a swig.
"Phew… Want a taste?" he asked, holding it out to us.
"I'll pass," I said. I'd never had alcohol before, and especially not right before a mission.
"Don't mind if I do!" Eren grinned, grabbing the flask.
He took one gulp—
—and immediately spat it out.
"Pffft!"
Honestly, in that moment, I was so glad I hadn't taken a sip.
"You've never had a drink either, have you?" I sighed, patting Eren's back as he coughed.
He handed the flask back to Pixis with a sheepish grin.
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