Children were so easy to deceive.
Zeke sat in the jolting carriage, finally able to stretch his legs without feeling cramped. His earlier anxiety had vanished.
Both Levi and the kids were appeased, at least for now. Truly, he owed thanks to God, Marley… and all the fools who thought sending children to war was a brilliant idea.
Now all that's left is to get inside the city.
The formation moved steadily forward.
Until, without warning, the column stopped.
Zeke's heart skipped. Another problem?
He pulled aside the curtain and froze.
Titans. Dozens of them. Lurking around the outer wall, pressing their grotesque faces against stone as if desperate to climb over. They were far too short to ever reach the top, yet they gathered anyway, mindless and waiting.
Zeke's stomach dropped. Why so many? And at this time?
They had only one thunder spear left. If the horde surged, there would be no stopping them.
Above the wall, a smoke round shot skyward and burst into a flare of scarlet.
Zeke remembered the words of the Wall soldiers: "When you're near the gate, fire the red signal.
The garrison will see it and open for you."
So the gate would open. But the Titans blocking the way? That was another story.
"Everyone, full speed ahead!" Erwin's voice rang out from the front. "We have ten minutes to clear!"
The order rippled down the line. Horses surged forward. The carriages rattled violently.
Inside their cart, the young Warriors tensed.
"With so many Titans, how are we supposed to break through just by running?" Reiner muttered, eyes darting.
His hand rose toward his mouth. "The Wall-Breaking Plan really is safest. Annie—transform first. Only you can control them."
Annie's jaw tightened. Her palm pressed against her lips.
"Wait!" Zeke slammed his hand down, stopping all three.
"Captain!" Reiner shouted, panicked. "We'll be wiped out!"
Zeke leaned in close, voice sharp as a blade. "You want to be eaten alive, or chopped apart by Levi? Choose carefully."
The three froze. The image of Levi flashed through their minds—his blades gleaming, his strikes too fast for even Titans to follow.
Two Titans felled in seconds, their bodies bursting like fruit under his knives.
The choice was obvious.
They paled, shrinking back. Cowards, yes—but even Zeke himself wasn't eager to test Levi's wrath.
Annie broke the silence. "What if I use hardening? If I encase myself, their blades won't pierce me. The soldiers inside the Walls don't even know Titans can harden. Their equipment is primitive.
If I crystallize, Levi won't be able to—"
"Wrong." Zeke cut her off flatly. "Levi's blades harden faster than you do."
Three pairs of eyes rounded. "How do you know that?"
Zeke didn't blink. "…Grisha said so."
"Ohhh." They nodded in unison, suddenly reassured.
Reiner exhaled in relief. "It's great to have an informant inside the Walls. Without him, we'd already be dead!"
Informant, my ass, Zeke thought bitterly. That was my little brother's conclusion, hammered into him blade by blade.
Then Bertolt, usually quiet, spoke earnestly: "But if Reiner fully armors up, wouldn't Levi's blades be useless? He could carry us away anytime.
Then we wouldn't need to fear the Survey Corps at all."
Reiner's chest swelled. "Exactly—"
"Who can you protect with that flimsy Marleyan paper shield?" Zeke muttered before he could stop himself.
"…Paper shield?" Reiner's face darkened with insult. But he had no chance to retort.
The column thundered forward. A Titan lunged across the road—
—and was cut down instantly.
Survey Corps troopers swooped from the air, their ODM cables biting into stone, their bodies twisting like hawks. Blades flashed, muscles strained, and in seconds the monster collapsed, nape carved open.
It was over before the Warriors could even gasp.
Life and death are decided in the blink of an eye.
No one stopped to marvel. The carriages barreled on, soldiers sprinted and swung, and those who needed to fight fought as if by instinct.
The coordination was seamless, efficient, terrifying.
Zeke's breath caught. So this is how they survive. Bait. Coordination. Absolute resolve.
Then he spotted him—
Levi.
Perched with his squad against the high wall, dangling less than three meters above the reaching hands of Titans.
Calm, poised, watching.
Only then did Zeke see the plan. One team would lure the Titans aside, draw their frenzy away from the gate. Another squad would clear the path directly ahead. Sacrifice, distraction, slaughter—all to create a single ten-minute opening.
Simple. Ruthless. Effective.
The gate groaned open.
The carriages thundered through, wheels shrieking against stone. Horses screamed. The soldiers shouted. Zeke felt the rush of stale city air engulf them as they crossed the threshold.
Behind them, the gate slammed shut.
But just before it sealed, Zeke's eyes caught a final image: a Survey Corps soldier, seized mid-air by a Titan's jaws. His body bent, then snapped.
The head disappeared between teeth in a spray of red.
The gate closed.
Inside the Walls, the city was safe. Outside, men still died for it.
…
Soldiers within the Walls… shackled by lies, yet you throw away your lives so easily. What power deceives you so completely?