She shook her head but didn't argue. For a moment, they just stood there, the silence less heavy now, more like a shared breath. Then she straightened, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I have to go," she said. "The council's meeting again. They'll want answers about this. Stay here. Don't leave the storeroom until I send someone."
"Historia—"
"I mean it," she cut in, her voice firm but not unkind. "No wandering. No heroics. Just… stay safe."
He nodded, and she turned to leave, her cloak catching the light as she slipped out the door. The room felt colder without her.
Alex sat back down, the bullet in his pocket a small, heavy reminder. He didn't know what had happened—why the bullets missed, why he was still breathing—but he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't just luck.
He pulled out his scrap of paper, the timeline scratched in faint charcoal. He added a new line:
📍 852 – Survived assassination attempt. Bullets missed. Reason unknown.
He stared at the words, then tucked the paper back under his shirt. The world was shifting, and he was caught in the middle of it. Historia was right—trouble had found him. And it wasn't done yet.
Mitras, Later That Day
The council chamber was colder than before, the air thick with tension. Historia sat at the head of the table, her posture rigid, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The MPs were louder today, their voices sharp with accusation. Nile Dok leaned forward, his mustache twitching as he spoke.
"This is the second incident in a week," he said, his tone clipped. "First a chandelier, now an armed attacker in the capital itself. Security is faltering, Your Majesty."
Historia's eyes didn't waver. "The chandelier was an accident. The attacker is dead. We're investigating."
"Investigating," Nile repeated, his voice heavy with skepticism. "A Marleyan poison capsule, and we're supposed to believe this was a lone act? Your… associate was targeted. That's no coincidence."
Alex stood against the wall again, clipboard in hand, feeling the weight of every glance. Eren was absent this time, but Mikasa was there, her gaze flicking between Nile and Alex, sharp as a blade.
Armin sat quietly, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the table. Jean slouched, but his eyes were alert, darting to Historia every few seconds. Levi stood behind her, silent as stone.
Kiyomi Azumabito spoke up, her voice calm but pointed. "The timing is concerning. If Marley is infiltrating Paradis, we must act swiftly. Our trade agreements depend on stability."
"Stability," Nile muttered, glancing at Historia. "Which is hard to maintain when certain individuals draw attention."
The jab was clear. Alex felt it like a jab to the ribs, but he kept his face neutral, his grip on the clipboard steady.
Historia's voice cut through, clear and cold. "If you have a point, Commander, make it."
Nile hesitated, then leaned back. "Your Majesty, this… Alex. He's an outsider. No papers, no history. He's a magnet for trouble. First the MP's death, now this. People talk. They question your judgment."
The room went quiet. Mikasa's hand twitched, just slightly, on the table. Levi's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak.
Historia didn't flinch. "Alex has my trust. He's proven his loyalty. If you have evidence against him, present it. Otherwise, your words are just noise."
Nile's jaw tightened, but he said nothing more. The other council members shifted uncomfortably, their murmurs filling the silence.
Armin spoke up, his voice measured. "We need to focus on the attacker. If he was Marleyan, or working for someone with access to their methods, we're looking at a bigger threat. Not just to Alex, but to all of us."
Jean nodded. "Yeah, and poison capsules aren't exactly common around here. Someone's got connections."
Levi finally spoke, his voice low and flat. "The MPs handle security. If someone's slipping through, that's on you, Dok."
Nile's face reddened, but he didn't argue.
Mitras, Two Days Later – Mikasa's POV
The training yard was quiet, covered in early morning fog. The mist hugged the ground, softening the edges of everything. Mikasa moved through her sword drills, each strike sharp and clean. But inside, she felt tense—like something was wrong. The tall walls of Mitras stood in the distance, hidden by fog, but their presence was still heavy. This city felt like a cage.
Her scarf touched her neck, grounding her for a moment, but it didn't stop the unease. This time, it wasn't about Eren, Armin, or even Marley. It was about him.
Alex.
The strange refugee who had no background, no scars, and somehow survived things no one should.
She had saved him once, seen him walk away from death again, and now… her instincts were screaming.
Not fear. Not hate. Just a deep feeling—an Ackerman feeling—that something around him wasn't normal.
She slashed the air, the blade cutting through the fog like her thoughts.
She remembered the council meeting from two days ago. The assassin had said, "Tell your queen you won't live long enough to watch her fall."
Alex didn't react. He didn't beg or panic. He just stood there, calm, like he knew something no one else did. That wasn't normal.
She sheathed her blade and walked toward the barracks. Her thoughts returned to the storeroom—the bullet holes.
One had hit something hard and crumpled. But there was nothing there. Bullets don't break in the air for no reason. And Alex's excuse? Just a calm shrug and "I got lucky."
It didn't feel like luck.
Inside the barracks, the air smelled like gun oil and coffee. Jean cleaned his rifle, grumbling about the MPs. Armin studied a map, eyes tired. Levi stood by the window, silent as always.
Mikasa leaned against the wall. Her eyes moved around the room but always returned to the same thought: Alex.
"Any updates?" she asked quietly.