Vroom—!
Staring through the porthole at the layer of superheated plasma forming along the ship's hull, Kiana knew she was about to arrive at her new "battlefield."
The crimson glow reflected upon her flawless face, a few strands of hair playfully swaying at her temples. From the side, her features were beautifully curved—her bright eyes full of spirit, still retaining a trace of youth, yet carrying the sharpness of a conqueror, and something even deeper.
Soon, the ship entered the planet's atmosphere, stabilizing into a smooth orbital trajectory toward the Imperial Marine landing zone.
The battle wasn't entirely over, but the Imperial Army had already claimed the territory as its own. Engineering corps and suppression units worked in tandem.
Amid the rumbling of drills and stonecutters, towering cranes and massive construction machines stood before half-completed structures—raw concrete and steel exposed, simple yet efficient.
Prefabricated rooms were arranged in rows around the site, and beneath the towering Astartes statues and twin-headed eagle banners, engineers, auxiliary servitors, and robotic builders labored in perfect order.
Having seen it all before, Kiana knew—these were prisoner-of-war camps.
Ironically, the living conditions in these camps were probably far better than those of most of the planet's natives.
At least they weren't extermination camps. And since the detainment was temporary, most would be released once operations concluded.
As the triple-layered fortress walls loomed closer, the ground below grew increasingly crowded. Heavily armed gunships, like mother hens guarding their chicks, surrounded her transport craft.
Kiana didn't believe this primitive civilization, still in its aviation infancy, could threaten her—but protocol demanded such a show of authority.
Her keen eyesight let her easily survey the waning battlefield below.
The Imperial soldiers of the Punishers Legion showed no mercy. They hunted down all remaining resistance with ruthless efficiency—issuing one brief offer of surrender before annihilation followed. None were spared.
Their methods... no matter how many times she saw them, they were still excessive.
With a heavy expression, Kiana shut off the projection screen before her.
"My mission... is to soothe this crying world—to make it smile again, isn't it...?"
Thunk, thunk—!
The soft tremor of the engines powering down, followed by the ceremonial bugle echoing from the landing pad.
"Lady Kiana, we've arrived. Hehe... Planetary Governor, huh? I heard even Lady Durandal never got to be a planetary governor..."
"All right, Susannah. It's nothing worth mentioning."
The cheerful voice beside her made Kiana smile faintly, her mood lightening. She hadn't expected to be the one leading a junior someday.
Well... everything comes down to effort. Walk your own path, stay grounded, don't aim too high. Thinking alone changes nothing—take action!
Let's make this world a better place!
"Susannah, move out."
Kiana stood up, confidence shining in her eyes as she struck a bold pose. "Time for us to shine!"
"Yay! Uh... yes, ma'am!"
...
At that moment, on Paradis Island, within the Walls of Maria—
"No, Eren! Don't! We can still talk this through!"
"Ah—!"
Armin Arlert lay on his back, gasping, his gray-blue eyes snapping open. He stared up at the sky, now tinted with a veil of blood-red haze, and shakily ran a trembling hand through his drenched blond hair.
"Hah... Wh-what's... happening to me? Ngh... No, Eren, the Rumbling... Zeke... Marley... I have to stop them—"
Clutching his temples, fragments of his last memories before losing consciousness flashed through his mind.
Amid the roars of Titans and the thunder of distant artillery, he'd been at the battlefield's edge, directing troops—when the ground heaved beneath him, the sky split apart with a blinding blast, and the shockwave from a warhead tore through the air. Heat engulfed him through what was left of the shattered roof.
Then he saw it—a monstrous face with four jaws... and a gleaming blue blade of pure light.
Paralysis seized his spine. Nausea surged. He could barely breathe.
Though his mind was fragmented and the suffocating dread of the nightmare had yet to fade, Armin's body still ached as if crushed. The lack of oxygen to his brain left his movements clumsy, almost drunken.
Still, he forced himself up, trembling, his eyes darting around as if searching for something—or someone.
He kept mumbling under his breath, "Eren…"
He had to stop his comrade—his brother—who had become a demon.
"So, you're awake? Then stop wasting your strength."
That cold, familiar voice froze Armin in place.
As his vision focused, he saw beyond the crude barbed wire fence a man with thick reddish-brown hair and sharply defined features—handsome, yet with a gaze as chilling as ice.
Armin's fingers dug deep into the muddy ground, making a soft grinding sound before he loosened his grip and hissed, "Floch!"
Floch Forster.
During the Battle to Retake Wall Maria, he had followed Commander Erwin Smith in a suicidal charge to buy Captain Levi time to face the Beast Titan. Floch was the only survivor of that charge—and one of only nine survivors of the entire operation.
Now, he was one of the most prominent leaders of the Eldian Restorationists—the organizer of the Yeagerists.
And Armin's greatest ideological rival.
Coming to his senses, Armin could hear faint sighs from nearby—fellow captured soldiers of the Survey Corps murmuring in despair. The civilians were imprisoned in a separate area, soldiers and civilians kept apart.
Other sections had been converted into medical zones. The injured lay scattered on the ground, moaning in agony, their cries spreading like a plague through the prisoners.
Armin himself was in the medical ward.
A dark red stain had spread across his chest.
"How pathetic, Armin."
Floch leaned casually against the wire fence, his olive-green double-breasted uniform tattered, the blue-and-white Wings of Freedom insignia barely hanging from the sleeve. His head was wrapped in bandages, and he ignored the blood seeping from a fresh cut along his temple.
"As an Eldian, you cooperated with the Marleyans. You even kept that filthy Marleyan brat who killed Sasha alive."
His cold, hateful gaze bore into the struggling Armin.
"Floch, stop acting like you're the only one fighting for Eldia's future. I agreed to let Eren and Zeke meet—to initiate a limited Rumbling, destroy the Marleyan invasion force, and use it to deter the rest of the world. That's why I sided with the remnants of the Survey Corps and helped your Yeagerists fight the Marleyan troops…"
"Oh, really?" Floch sneered. "Then tell me—what about that Marleyan you spared, the one who attacked Eren? Don't think I've forgotten Sasha's death."
He laughed coldly, never once having placed any hope in Armin.
"We can't let hatred continue to spread…"
"Heh… save your sanctimonious speeches, saint. Take a look—this is the world you wanted. Why stop Eren? Why stop us Eldians from reclaiming the Founding Titan's power that's rightfully ours?"
Floch pointed forward. The "rain of fire" that had fallen like divine punishment had ceased.
From their vantage point on the slope of a small hill, they had a clear view of the devastation below. Under the blood-red sky, most of Shiganshina District within Wall Maria was ablaze, pillars of black smoke and fire painting the heavens.
"That's… the Rumbling?!"
Following Floch's gaze, Armin's eyes widened. The wall—once their protector, now their cage—lay shattered. Massive sections had collapsed, and through the gaping breaches, flames spread across the city. Explosions flickered between the districts.
The corpses of Colossal Titans—heads blown off, spines shattered—served as grotesque amplifiers to the chaos.
Rising steam, ash from burning flesh, and dust from explosions mingled together. The air was thick, heavy, snow-like flakes of gray drifting through the fiery sky. Buildings crumbled, the wind howled, and the chorus of screams, gunfire, and collapsing stone filled the air.
It was an apocalypse made real.
"No… it's not the Rumbling…"
Though the walls were severely damaged, the jagged remains of Wall Maria's foundations were buried under mountains of Colossal Titan corpses. Yet, some of the exposed Colossal Titans still remained dormant.
"Of course it's not the Rumbling, Armin. Congratulations—you succeeded. We actually got to 'negotiate' with the outside world," Floch sneered with bitter mockery. "The only difference is, the outcome isn't what you imagined. We—all Eldians—are now lambs waiting for slaughter. It's all over!"
Above the skies of Shiganshina District, the Marleyan Empire's airships and invasion forces had been completely wiped out.
On top of the shattered walls, the banners that once symbolized the four military divisions—the Survey Corps' Wings of Freedom, the Training Corps' Swords of Discipline, the Military Police's Unicorn of Justice, and the Garrison' Rose of Vigilance—had all been replaced by a single, imposing red-and-gold double-headed imperial eagle.
It wasn't the Marleyan Star Banner, but to the Eldians, it made no difference.
"No, as long as we're alive, there's still hope. We can talk with them—with the outside world—"
Armin's words were cut off by Floch's harsh snarl.
"Talk? Hah! That same excuse again... Enough, I've had enough!"
He gave a few dry laughs before his expression twisted with rage. "Armin Arlert, you should be dead—!"
"You should be dead! Reiner should be dead! Bertholdt should be dead! Levi should be dead! Hange should be dead! You all should be dead!"
His voice cracked into a scream, raw emotion spilling from every word. "If it weren't for you, Commander Erwin wouldn't have died! Why—why did they choose to save you?! Captain Levi was the Commander's closest comrade! Why would he save you?! I don't understand—I'll never understand—!!"
His roar tore through the prison camp, nearly shredding his throat.
"Hahaha… you should've died. I should've died. I should've died alongside the Commander during that charge! We all should've died!"
Laughing bitterly through his tears, Floch slammed his fists against the steel fence between them. The sharp metal hooks tore into his skin, crimson droplets dripping down the wire, staining it red.
It was his accusation—his unending grief.
Even though he now supported Eren Yeager, Floch still couldn't understand.
"If it had been Commander Erwin… if he had been revived instead of you… we wouldn't be like this."
"..." Armin fell silent.
He knew all too well. Floch had survived the suicidal charge and saved the dying Commander Erwin, who'd been struck down by the Beast Titan's boulder barrage.
Floch had begged for the last Titan serum to be used on Erwin instead of Armin. But in the end, Levi had chosen Armin.
Since that day, the rift between Floch, Levi, and especially Armin had never healed.
To Floch, Armin—the "man who should've died"—could never compare to Erwin in talent or leadership. His later actions and idealistic nature only made that gap more unbearable.
As someone who had witnessed Erwin's charisma firsthand, Floch could not forgive the contrast.
The difference between expectation and reality had turned comradeship into bitter enmity.
"Roar—! Silence! Shut up!"
Their shouting drew the attention of nearby soldiers, whispers spreading quickly. Soon, a towering Sangheili Elite barged through the crowd, shoving aside the Survey Corps prisoners like rag dolls. He kicked Floch several meters away, then tore open the wire fence.
Without hesitation, he backhanded Armin, sending him sprawling, before stomping down hard on his arm—the sound of bone cracking filled the air.
"Next time, it'll be your head."
Just then, another voice interjected with a chuckle. "Heh, easy there! Don't kill him. The interrogator just confirmed that the one you've got there—Armin Arlert—matches the memories extracted from one of the captured intelligent Titans. Cross-referenced with local records—it checks out. He's one of the Titan shifters."
An Imperial auxiliary officer, wearing a peaked cap and a uniform adorned with golden epaulets, waved while holding a personal tactical terminal.
"Eh? This guy's a Titan Shifter too? That doesn't make sense—why's he still here? Aren't all Titan Shifters supposed to be taken into central custody once captured?"
The Sangheili warrior beside him looked puzzled.
"Maybe he's just useless. Didn't even have time to transform, got caught in the bombardment, and was lucky enough to survive… but no, that doesn't add up. His body's in good shape—no major injuries. Skin's smooth, not even a scar. Don't tell me this coward played dead and swapped clothes with a corpse?"
He muttered in Imperial Common, but finally lifted his foot from Armin's arm.
"According to the locals, he's the human vessel of the Colossal Titan. Apparently, its destructive power is too great to use in densely populated urban areas like this."
"Yeah, the records describe the Colossal Titan as capable of releasing an enormous explosion upon transformation—almost like a miniature atomic bomb. They even call it the 'God of Destruction.'"
The auxiliary officer shrugged, swiping across his terminal screen. "Guess his luck ran out."
"God of Destruction…" the Sangheili warrior repeated, shaking his head. He grabbed Armin with one hand, then—just to be safe—jabbed him with a dose of tranquilizer.
"Bring him along."
Waving his hand, the officer signaled a group of Grunts following behind. As he compared data on his terminal, he gestured toward the bloodied, coughing figure of Floch.
"This one's a big shot too… Floch Forster. Give him a stabilizer injection and take him with us."
"What for?"
"For the surrender ceremony. A high-ranking guest has arrived."
—
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