---
The silence that fell upon the forest road was heavier than any corpse. It was a dead, ringing void, filled only by the hiss of evaporating Titan flesh and the ragged, shallow breaths of the living. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of fear.
On the dirt road, Nile Dok sat in a stunned heap, his fine, clean uniform now smeared with grime and the filth of his own terror. He stared, his eyes wide and unblinking, at the boy slumped against a horse a few dozen yards away. The boy who was supposed to be his prisoner. The traitor who had just saved his life.
Captain Levi landed with the silent grace of a predator, his boots barely stirring the dust. His steel-grey eyes, cold and hard as a winter sky, took in the scene with a chilling economy of motion: the two steaming Titan corpses, the stunned MPs, the defiant Scouts, and the source of all this chaos. He wiped his blade clean with a practiced, almost bored motion, the steel singing softly as it returned to its sheath.
"Akira! Are you okay? You idiot, you're hurt!"
Erin was the first to break the spell, scrambling to Akira's side. Close behind her was Mikasa, the iconic blue scarf a slash of color against the grim backdrop. She didn't speak, but her presence was a fortress, her hands already pressing a water canteen to Akira's lips.
Nile finally found his legs, pushing himself up with a groan. He brushed the dirt from his uniform, a futile gesture in a world that had just been shattered. He looked at Commander Erwin, who sat calmly atop his horse, observing everything with an unnerving, analytical gaze.
"He... he saved me," Nile stated, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. It wasn't gratitude. It was a confession of profound, world-altering confusion.
"He did," Erwin agreed, his voice even. "An illogical action, wouldn't you say? For a traitor."
Nile flinched at the word. "My orders still stand, Erwin. The royal decree is absolute. He is to be taken to the capital."
"And he will be," Erwin replied smoothly. "As we agreed. But perhaps now you see why a public trial is more prudent than a quiet execution. The man is a paradox. The people, and the crown, deserve to see the truth of that paradox for themselves, don't you think?"
Nile didn't answer. He couldn't. He just stared at the boy with light blue hair, who was now being helped to his feet by the two girls who refused to leave his side. The world no longer made any sense. With a curt, angry gesture, he signaled for his men to remount. The truce, now strained to the breaking point, held, for now.
---
The journey resumed, but the silence was different. It was no longer just tense; it was thick with unspoken questions and fractured loyalties. The convoy moved like a funeral procession, crawling towards a fate no one could predict.
Akira rode in the center of it all, a quiet island in a storm of roiling emotions. The single, explosive burst of Ki had taken a vicious toll. His head throbbed in time with his horse's gait, and every breath was a sharp, grinding pain in his ribs. He could feel his energy, his very life force, draining away with every passing minute. He was running on fumes, his vision swimming in and out of focus.
But the physical pain was a dull echo compared to the psychic agony. His Ki Sense, a curse in this moment, was a wide-open nerve, forcing him to feel the emotions of everyone around him.
He felt the burning, confused anger from Jean. The boy's hatred was a fire, but now it was a fire that was sputtering, choked by a new, terrible doubt. Akira's words from before echoed in his mind, a relentless, tormenting whisper. If Commander Erwin ordered you to attack a village full of enemies... would you follow that order? He looked at Akira, the traitor, who had just upheld the most sacred duty of a soldier—protecting a comrade, even one who despised him. The simple, black-and-white world Jean had clung to since Marco's death was crumbling, revealing terrifying shades of grey. He felt sick.
He felt the sharp, analytical focus of Armin. The smaller boy wasn't looking at Akira with anger. He was looking at him like a puzzle, a strategic problem he was desperate to solve. He's not protecting a person, Armin thought, his mind racing, connecting the dots. He's protecting a principle. He sees the soldiers, not the monsters. He's fighting a different war than we are. But what is it? What is his real objective?
And then there was the loyalty. It was a painful, beautiful warmth in the sea of cold suspicion. He felt it from Erin. Her Ki was a whirlwind of confusion and hurt, but beneath it was a foundation of unshakable faith. She didn't understand, but she didn't need to. He had saved her. He had taught her. He was her hero. That was enough.
And from Mikasa, he felt something that almost broke him. It wasn't a question. It wasn't confusion. It was a calm, steady, and absolute certainty. Her Ki was an anchor, a silent, powerful declaration that said, Wherever you go, I will follow. Whatever you are, I am with you. To the end. It was a loyalty so pure it was a physical ache in his chest, a weight of responsibility he feared he would never be worthy of. He was her family. And for her, that was the only truth that mattered.
---
Deep within the forest, hidden in the high branches of a colossal tree, Pieck lowered her spyglass. She moved with a quiet, four-legged grace, her movements economical and precise.
"He saved them," she said, her voice a low, thoughtful murmur. "He saved the very man who was taking him to his death."
A massive, ape-like figure shifted beside her, the branch groaning under his weight. "He is illogical," the Beast Titan, Zeke, rumbled, his voice a mixture of fascination and intense frustration. "His power is immense, but his actions are sentimental. He is a fool."
"No," Pieck corrected softly, a slow, thoughtful smile spreading across her face. "He's not a fool. He's a wild card. He doesn't play by our rules, or theirs. He has his own game." She looked towards the distant convoy, her mind racing. "This changes things, Zeke. We assumed he was Paradis's ultimate weapon, to be deployed and aimed. But he is not their weapon. He acts on his own. We cannot predict him."
"Then he is a liability to them as much as he is a threat to us," Zeke mused, stroking his furry chin. "An unpredictable force is a dangerous one. Perhaps... perhaps he can be used."
Pieck's smile widened. "That's what I was thinking. A magnificent, powerful, and utterly fascinating fool... is the most useful kind of piece on the board, isn't it?" She knew, with a certainty that thrilled her, that this boy was the key, not just to the Founding Titan, but to the entire future of this war. And she couldn't wait to see what he would do next.
---
The arrival at the capital was like stepping into another world. The convoy passed through the great gates of Wall Sina, and the opulent splendor of Mitras jarringly replaced the grim, blood-soaked reality of the Scouts.
Here, the streets were wide and clean, paved with smooth, pale stones. The buildings were tall and ornate, their windows gleaming in the late afternoon sun. The air didn't smell of death and Titan steam; it smelled of bakeries and perfume. Well-fed citizens in fine clothes stopped to stare as the battered, filthy Scout Regiment passed by. Their faces were not filled with gratitude. They were filled with a mixture of morbid curiosity and open disdain. They were looking at butchers, at failures, at the grim-faced soldiers who had just returned from another pointless, bloody expedition.
The Scouts rode with their heads held high, their faces hard masks of practiced indifference, but Akira could feel their shame, their anger, their humiliation. This was the gilded cage they fought and died for, a city that despised them for the very sacrifices that kept it safe. The injustice of it was a poison in the air.
They didn't stop at a barracks or a public building. The convoy wound its way through the pristine streets to a dark, imposing fortress in the heart of the city, a place that radiated an aura of cold, bureaucratic cruelty. This was the headquarters of the First Interior Squad.
A line of soldiers stood waiting for them. They were not like Nile's men. Their green uniforms were immaculate, but their eyes were cold and dead. They held not just rifles, but strange, complicated devices—the tell-tale signs of the Anti-Personnel Maneuvering Gear. These were not soldiers. They were executioners.
A man with a thin, cruel smile and a neat black mustache stepped forward. He didn't address Erwin. He looked straight at Akira, his eyes lingering on the boy's battered form with a disturbing, predatory glee.
"We'll take the prisoner from here," he said, his voice slick and unpleasant.
"He is to have a public trial," Erwin stated, his voice a cold slab of authority.
The man chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "Of course, Commander. A trial. After a... thorough interrogation. We have our own methods for finding the truth." He gestured, and two of his men moved forward, carrying a set of heavy, wicked-looking chains.
"No!" The cry ripped from Erin's throat as she spurred her horse forward, but Armin grabbed her reins, holding her back.
"Don't, Erin! You'll only make it worse for him!" he pleaded, his own face pale with dread.
Mikasa was a statue of ice, her hand gripping the hilt of her blade so tightly her knuckles were white. Her dark eyes were locked on the men approaching Akira, and they promised murder.
Akira turned his head, his tired blue eyes finding hers. He gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. Don't.
It was the hardest order she had ever had to follow.
The Interior Police roughly pulled Akira from his horse. He stumbled, his legs barely able to hold him, but he didn't cry out. They shoved him to his knees, the impact jarring a grunt of pain from his lips. The heavy chains were cold as they wrapped around his wrists, the sound of the lock clicking shut echoing in the sudden, deathly silence of the courtyard.
He was a prisoner again. But this time, it felt different. It felt final.
The man with the mustache smirked. "Take him away."
As they hauled him to his feet and began to drag him towards the dark, yawning entrance of the fortress, Akira looked back one last time. He saw the faces of his friends, his family. He saw Erin's terrified tears, Armin's desperate calculations, and Mikasa's beautiful, fierce face, now a mask of pure, heartbreaking agony.
He couldn't save them from this pain. He couldn't tell them the truth. All he could do was walk into the darkness and hope that they would have enough faith to see him through to the other side.
Their hero, their traitor, their magnificent, foolish protector, disappeared into the shadows of the dungeon, and the great iron door slammed shut behind him, leaving his friends alone in a world that had suddenly grown much, much colder.
---
•To Be Continue•
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