"I don't know what material King Fritz used to build these walls," Bertolt explained, spreading the crude map across the grass. "But one thing is certain—we can't destroy them. Commander Magath made it clear: do not touch the walls themselves. If we want to strike, Reiner will break through the gates."
At that, Zeke's eyes flicked toward the boy slumped under the tree. Reiner's face was pale, his breaths shallow after his last transformation. This kid… can he really manage it?
"Yes." The answer came unexpectedly from Reiner himself. Though lying down, his tone was steady, far firmer than before.
Zeke gave a small grunt. "Fine. I'll trust you—for now."
He turned back to the others, feigning interest. In truth, he had no choice but to listen.
If he was to protect Eren, if he wanted to change this cursed cycle, he needed to know exactly how these children intended to move. Know yourself and know your enemy. That principle never failed.
The irony burned him. He remembered too clearly how this "Wall-Breaking Plan" had played out the first time. The fall of Wall Maria was the beginning of everything. It was the spark that pushed little Eren Yeager into his lifelong hatred of Titans.
The gate tore open.
Titans flooding inside. Humanity reduced to prey.
And Carla Yeager—Eren's mother—devoured before his eyes.
A tragedy orchestrated, not by chance, but by command. By Eren himself.
Zeke's fists curled at his sides.
Even now, the thought left him hollow. His mother—Dina—transformed into a mindless beast by Marley, condemned to wander as a Pure Titan. And Eren… Eren had guided her to that street, to that moment, ordering his own mother to consume their brother's.
What kind of son does that? What kind of brother?
The memory always left him twisted, a mess of sorrow and bitter laughter. Good brother… Eldia's good brother…
He shook the thought away. He couldn't drown in grief now. Not when this was the very moment that could be undone.
Don't break the wall.
Don't feed Carla to his mother.
Don't let the plan unfold as before.
Bertolt continued explaining, oblivious to the storm behind Zeke's eyes. "Originally, Commander Magath wanted Marcel and Annie to take turns guiding us to Wall Maria. But… with Marcel gone, Annie had to lead us the rest of the way."
Annie said nothing, her arms crossed tightly.
"After that," Bertolt pressed on, "Reiner transforms into the Armored Titan to smash open the gate. Annie will use her scream to draw the Pure Titans into the city. Once they cause enough destruction, King Fritz won't be able to ignore it.
He'll have no choice but to send the Founding Titan to protect his people."
Zeke's brow twitched, though he kept silent.
"And when the Founding Titan drives the Titans back and returns to human form," Bertolt went on, his voice rising with conviction, "that's when we strike! He'll be vulnerable—unable to transform again immediately. That's our chance to seize the Founder. We can't fail, not this time."
He pointed to Annie. "She'll transform into the Female Titan and carry us home. With her speed, nothing on this island will catch us. We'll escape with the Founding Titan and return to Marley as heroes!"
Bertolt's face shone with the naïve pride of someone who could already taste victory.
Zeke only stared at him in silence.
The pause stretched long enough for Bertolt's smile to falter. "…Captain?" he asked nervously. "Is… something wrong with the plan?"
"There is."
The reply was flat, final.
Zeke's thoughts snarled. There's everything wrong with it. Because I won't let you carry it out.
But beyond that, the flaw was simple: they were expecting too much of a king who had already abandoned his duty.
Oh, they couldn't have known. How could these children realize that when Titans poured into Shiganshina, the royal family did nothing?
When his father—Grisha—begged them to fight, their response was not courage, but cowardice,
"This is our punishment."
"This is the justice of the world."
"We deserve annihilation."
They never intended to protect anyone. They cowered in their caverns, leaving their people to die.
So yes, Magath's plan succeeded in breaking a wall. But the other half—the lure for the Founder—was doomed before it began.
No Founder ever came.
And thousands of innocents perished for nothing.
That failure would haunt Reiner forever.
He had carried the guilt of those lives until it broke him apart inside. And if Bertolt, Annie, and Marcel had lived longer, Zeke knew—they would have rotted under the same unbearable shame.
No. It couldn't happen again.
There was no reason to break the wall. No reason to slaughter Eldians for a phantom Founder that would never appear. No reason to condemn children to decades of guilt.
Not this time.
A voice echoed in Zeke's mind—Eren's voice, sharp with fury.
"Have you ever loved anyone, Zeke?"
He had scoffed then.
But now, the words cut deeper than any blade.
"If you had, you wouldn't have dreamed up that pathetic euthanasia plan."
Zeke shut his eyes. He remembered the final battlefield, remembered being called out as nothing more than a cowardly royal. Eren had been right—his failure proved it.
It was not the Eldians who deserved to vanish. It was their so-called rulers, the cowards who hid behind the word "atonement."
He had failed once. He would not fail again.
Opening his eyes, Zeke's voice cut clean through the morning air.
"Actually, I have another plan. One that will let us enter the Walls without casualties—and find the Founding Titan easily."
Annie's eyes snapped toward him. "What?"
Bertolt blinked, wide-eyed. "Huh??"
Both stared at him, baffled.