After the last giant fell, the Survey Corps secured a temporary foothold. They chose a towering tree, over eighty meters tall and so wide that ten people linking arms could barely encircle it. Platforms were anchored to the trunk, creating a makeshift supply base.
While builders worked above, other soldiers spread out across the surrounding forest, patrolling the edges to clear any lingering threats.
The "giant circle" strategy had been a success. Dozens of Titans had been lured into the kill zone and destroyed. Losses were lighter than expected, though still painful. The plan was already being spoken of as a landmark operation, and Lock's name was on everyone's lips.
He had slain nine Titans himself—second only to Captain Levi, who had cut down thirteen. At just fourteen, Lock's performance drew praise from every corner of the Corps. Even Keith, the hard-nosed commander, gave him recognition.
But praise was all he received. His youth and lack of seniority meant no real rank would be granted, at least for now. As a compromise, Keith relieved him of duties the following day, calling it a "rest period."
Lock only smirked at that. Rest wasn't something he trusted on this side of the Walls.
And then came the real problem—Hanji.
Like a hawk circling prey, the eccentric Squad Leader had locked onto him the moment he returned.
"Lock, how did you do it?!" Hanji's voice was full of manic energy as she leaned uncomfortably close, eyes gleaming. "You're fourteen, but your physique outstrips trained veterans. Even Levi can't suppress you anymore—well, maybe in skill, but not in growth. You've got years ahead of you."
Lock continued wiping his blades with calm precision, not bothering to look up.
"Captain Hanji. Don't you have anything better to do?"
His swords gleamed in the firelight. Black-gold steel, sharp and flexible—precious in its balance. But Lock knew too well that against the Nine, even Levi's blades faltered against hardened Titan flesh. Strength wasn't everything.
Hanji, of course, ignored his tone. "Do you realize what this means? At your age, your potential—"
"Why are you here again?" Lock cut in, still polishing the edge. His patience was thin with her endless chatter.
"To study Titans!" Hanji declared, as if it were the most obvious truth in the world. "Don't you think they're fascinating? If we could just open their heads, see the insides—ah, but no, every time they die they vanish into steam! It's maddening!"
Lock's lips twitched. "I don't think they'd appreciate you opening their heads. And I don't find them fascinating."
But half-distracted, he muttered, "If you really want to study one, the method's simple."
Hanji froze. "...Simple?"
"Catch one alive. A small one. Three, four meters. Restrain it. Then you can poke and prod as much as you want."
The words were idle, almost careless. But Hanji's eyes widened as if struck by lightning.
"Yes! Why didn't I think of that before? A living specimen—we don't need corpses!" She clapped her hands together, practically vibrating with energy. "With the Corps' strength, a small Titan can be captured easily. Lock, this is brilliant!"
Before he could reply, she bolted for the command tent.
Lock sighed, watching her vanish between the branches. "What a lunatic."
Something about the idea unsettled him, though. The thought of a Titan chained, alive, made his gut twist. Still, he pushed the feeling aside and returned to examining his blade.
The problem gnawed at him: how to refine the weapon further without losing its balance. He wasn't a forgemaster, and the conditions here were limited. The black-gold swords were strong, but not strong enough.
He rose, ready to leave, when Hanji stormed back into camp—this time dragging several soldiers with her. Her face shone with manic triumph.
"Lock! The commander approved it!" she shouted breathlessly. "We're going to capture a Titan alive!"
Lock froze. "…What?"
The words hung in the air like a storm about to break.
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