"Lock…"
Erwin's brow furrowed slightly as he saw Lock step forward on his own. Though confused, he remained silent. There were outsiders present—this was not the time for private discussion. Maintaining composure, Erwin introduced him formally:
"Captain Kenny, this is Captain Lock of the Survey Corps."
Kenny Ackerman turned his sharp, amused gaze toward Lock. His eyes swept up and down, appraising him with an unsettling mix of curiosity and mockery.
"So you're Lock, huh?" Kenny drawled, his voice carrying the weight of ridicule. "Letting a kid like you be captain… your Corps is as chaotic as ever."
Before Lock could respond, Levi stepped forward, his tone cold as ice. "Watch your mouth."
Levi's indifferent stare met Kenny's piercing grin. For a brief moment, the air between them shifted—years of buried history flickered beneath the surface.
Kenny raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. "How heartless. Is this how you treat your savior?" His voice twisted into a playful jab. Then, almost lazily, he added, "And you're still the same height as when you were a kid."
The instant the words left his mouth, Levi's eyes sharpened like drawn blades. His hand moved subtly to rest on the hilt of his sword, every line of his body poised to strike.
The Central Military Police soldiers behind Kenny tensed, raising their specialized firearms toward Levi. These were no standard rifles—they were double-barreled guns with mounted blades, designed for human combat. While less effective against Titans, their range and lethality against humans were far superior to traditional blades. Kenny's men, the infamous Anti-Personnel Control Squad, were trained killers.
Survey Corps members exchanged uneasy glances, fingers tightening on their triggers. Erwin remained still, his expression unreadable. The tension was electric, balanced on the edge of violence.
Lock observed the unfolding standoff. Troublesome, he thought. I only came forward to see Kenny up close, not to trigger a full confrontation. But now there was no backing down.
He moved without hesitation, stepping in front of Levi. In one fluid motion, he raised his blades, his fingers resting firmly on the triggers of his ODM gear.
"Is it that our swords aren't sharp enough?" Lock said coldly, his blade aimed straight at Kenny, "Or are you arrogant enough to think you can attack here and walk away alive?"
He wasn't just speaking for himself. In this moment, he represented Levi, Erwin, and the entire Survey Corps. If Kenny humiliated them publicly and they stayed silent, their honor would be trampled.
Lock's boldness snapped the rest of the Corps into action. Steel rasped as blades were drawn all around him. With overwhelming numbers, the soldiers surrounded Kenny and his men in a tightening semicircle.
The crowd of civilians, sensing the deadly shift, scattered in panic. Screams echoed down the streets as people fled from the potential battleground. The Garrison soldiers at the gate quietly backed off—they knew better than to interfere between the Survey Corps and Kenny's unit.
The air grew heavy. The two groups stood locked in a silent, dangerous tableau.
Kenny's grin widened. He seemed utterly unbothered, even amused. "Interesting," he said softly. "Really interesting."
With a lazy wave, he signaled his squad to lower their weapons. Obediently, the Anti-Personnel soldiers complied, though their eyes remained sharp and fingers ready.
Kenny stepped forward until he stood directly before Lock. The older man loomed, his presence filling the space with something feral.
"Lock, was it?" he said. "I'll remember you. My guns are fast."
Lock didn't flinch. "Your guns may be fast," he replied, "but my blades are sharp."
He wasn't naive. Kenny Ackerman was no loyal dog to the royal family—he served his own interests. If Lock ever wanted to sway him, he'd need equal or greater power and status. But for now, matching Kenny's presence was the only option.
Kenny blinked, then burst into booming laughter. "Hah! I like you, kid."
Turning to Erwin, who had been watching the exchange with his usual inscrutable calm, Kenny said, "Commander Erwin… why don't you give this one to me? I promise I'll put him to good use."
"I mind," Erwin answered simply, his tone flat and final.
Kenny wasn't surprised. He shrugged with mock regret. "A pity. Generally, things I can't have don't stick around long."
Lock cut in before he could finish. "Then you'd better be careful, too, Captain Kenny. Because I'm the same way."
Gasps broke through the Survey Corps ranks. Even those who had sheathed their weapons stared at Lock in stunned silence.
This wasn't just any opponent. This was Kenny the Ripper—the infamous killer whose name carried dread through the entire Interior. No one he targeted ever lived long. Yet Lock, barely older than a rookie, had stood toe-to-toe with him without hesitation.
For a heartbeat, Kenny's smile faltered. Then it returned, slower, sharper. "You're clever," he said with a weight that hinted at something more. "But there are things you shouldn't get involved in… not yet."
The playful tone was gone now. Kenny's expression hardened. He turned back to Erwin. "It's late. I'll take the prisoner."
Erwin gave a small nod. "Of course."
His calm gaze revealed nothing. No emotion, no thought—just the mask of a commander who'd already calculated ten moves ahead.
The transfer of Annie Leonhart to the Interior forces went smoothly. Kenny's men took custody, and within moments, the Female Titan was wheeled away under heavy guard.
As Kenny departed, Lock felt the man's gaze linger on him. It was like the weight of a knife resting against the back of his neck—unseen, but impossible to ignore.
He didn't react. There was no point. Some confrontations were inevitable. Avoiding them would mean abandoning everything he'd chosen.
The convoy resumed its journey. With Annie gone, the Survey Corps' burden lightened considerably. They maintained a cautious distance of over a thousand meters from the Interior Military Police ahead as they made their way back to base. The soldiers' shoulders eased slightly. The tension that had hovered over them since the mission began finally started to thin.
For Lock, though, the encounter lingered.
He had stared directly into the eyes of Kenny Ackerman and hadn't looked away. And in doing so, he'd stepped deeper into the currents of power that flowed beneath the walls—a current that was about to pull everyone into dangerous, uncharted waters.
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