Stoheis District.
Lock had been here many times before. In his memories, this city was defined by the echoes of chaos — silent streets after a sudden Titan incursion, terrified residents hiding behind thick stone walls, the Survey Corps' hurried operations against Annie and her comrades. He thought he knew this place well. But this time, as he approached the district again, something felt profoundly different.
The streets were no longer simply panicked or desolate. Instead, there was a heavy, almost ceremonial atmosphere hanging over everything. Tension weighed down the air like fog before a storm.
At a temporary station near the outer wall, thousands of volunteers gathered, armed with nothing more than the standard vertical maneuvering gear and basic blades. They stood in loose ranks, their faces tense. Some tried to hide their shaking hands. Others whispered anxiously to one another, unable to contain the dread of what lay ahead. Though they had been mentally prepared for weeks, the reality of marching out to face Titans left many pale and sweating.
Lock surveyed them quietly from horseback. His gaze swept across the volunteers, most of whom were refugees from the fall of Wall Maria. The King's government called them "expeditionary volunteers," but Lock understood their true role. They weren't just fighters—they were pawns.
"The Royal Government's real plan…" Lock thought bitterly, his eyes narrowing. "They're using this operation to cull the refugee population. It's ruthless… but effective."
The sound of wagon wheels interrupted his thoughts. A convoy of over a hundred soldiers and carriages approached from the south, the flags of the Survey Corps snapping in the wind. At the head of the group, Lock rode alongside Petra, Oluo, Ymir, and Elder. The column slowed as they neared the wall, where a group of garrison officers was already waiting.
A tall man with a neatly trimmed mustache stepped forward. His crisp uniform and steady bearing gave away his rank even before Elder quietly leaned toward Lock and said:
"That's Captain Job Mori of the Garrison Regiment. He's been in charge of Stoheis since the last Titan incident."
Lock nodded, understanding. He dismounted with practiced ease. "Captain Mori," he greeted evenly, extending a gloved hand. "We've kept you waiting."
Mori returned the handshake with visible respect. "Captain Lock. It's an honor. We've heard much about you." His smile was polite, but there was an unmistakable flicker of awe in his eyes.
At thirty-five, Mori had achieved considerable success. He commanded the garrison forces responsible for maintaining and defending a critical stretch of wall. But the young man standing before him was barely twenty—and already entrusted with operational command, direct royal backing, and recruitment power unmatched since the days of Kenny Ackerman.
"Seeing is believing," Mori thought as he studied Lock's sharp, composed expression. "He's even younger than they said… but the presence is real. No wonder the King's court favors him."
Lock inclined his head slightly at the compliment but didn't dwell on pleasantries. "Captain Mori, are all the volunteers for the eastern expedition assembled?"
"Yes," Mori replied promptly. "This is the western contingent. Another large group is stationed in the open fields to the east. Altogether, fifty-three thousand volunteers have been mustered and are ready for deployment."
Lock's brows lifted slightly. "Fifty-three thousand…" he repeated under his breath.
The scale was staggering. According to Erwin's plan, nearly twenty percent of the population inside the Walls would be mobilized in this operation. The majority were displaced civilians from Wall Maria—people whose continued presence had strained the economy and ecology of Wall Rose for months. Hunting grounds had been stripped bare, forests destroyed for farmland, and traditional livelihoods erased. Tensions between refugees and native residents had escalated to dangerous levels.
War was the easiest way to redirect that anger outward.
As Lock considered this grim calculus, Mori continued, "Each volunteer has been issued basic maneuver gear. Your unit will lead this front, with Commander Erwin leading the eastern flank."
Elder stepped forward. "And the other two fronts? What's their situation?"
The entire group turned their attention to Mori. His expression grew more solemn. "Those forces are even larger than ours," he said slowly. "But… they lack formal leadership. Their mission is primarily to draw Titan's attention away from your columns—to buy time."
Ymir snorted softly. "So they're being sent to die."
The air froze. No one spoke. No one disagreed.
Lock broke the tension with a firm nod. "Understood. Take us to the city gate."
He had anticipated this strategy from the start. His face remained calm, almost detached, as if the fate of tens of thousands was merely one variable in a much larger equation. Mori, observing him, finally understood why this young man had risen so quickly. It wasn't just skill or strength. It was the ability to look into the abyss without flinching.
The group rode toward the massive city gate. Normally, traffic in and out of Stoheis was handled by a single vertical elevator system that ferried supplies and soldiers between levels. But this time was different. The colossal gates—rarely opened except in emergencies—had been fully unsealed.
Thousands of soldiers, volunteers, and wagons lined the cleared boulevard, waiting for the signal to march. Along the walls, garrison troops had already eliminated nearby Titans and established lookout stations. If a Titan approached, warning bells would sound immediately. A massive boulder and several reinforced carts were positioned beside the gate, ready to be moved into place at a moment's notice.
The preparations were meticulous. The Garrison Regiment had gone to great lengths to minimize the risk of a breach during deployment.
Lock dismounted and walked a few paces ahead, scanning the horizon. Beyond the wall stretched the wilderness—a wide expanse of forests and plains. Out there, hundreds of Titans still roamed. This "expedition" would be their trial by fire.
As he observed the preparations, a single thought crystallized in his mind:
"With morale this low, sending them out now would be suicide. If we're going to do this, we need to sharpen their edge first."
He turned to Elder. "Select ten soldiers from our unit. Prepare a transport wagon."
Elder blinked. "Captain… what are you planning?"
The others echoed his confusion. The expedition was set to launch within days. What could Lock possibly be plotting now?
Lock didn't keep them guessing. His eyes were cold, decisive. "The current state of these volunteers is unacceptable. We need to raise their morale fast—or they'll crumble the moment they see a Titan. We're going to capture a pure Titan and bring it back here. Let them train against the real thing."
A murmur ran through the officers. Ymir's eyes gleamed with interest. Oluo grinned nervously. "You're serious? You want to drag a Titan into the camp?"
Lock's tone left no room for doubt. "Yes. They need to face reality before we march. If they can't stand their ground against one restrained Titan, they won't survive outside those walls."
The logic was brutal—but unassailable.
Elder straightened. "Understood, Captain. I'll make the preparations immediately."
Lock turned back to the open gate. The wind carried the faint scent of the wild—fresh earth, distant trees, and something heavier beneath it. He had fought Titans for years now, but each encounter still carried a primal weight. Now, he would make these recruits face that weight head-on.
For the sake of humanity's future, fear alone would no longer be enough.
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