Chapter 82 - A Question

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War and death are cruel, no matter where one stands.

Annie was the most reluctant of them all, but she still forced her eyes open. She obeyed Zeke's command and stared, even as her vision blurred with tears.

She saw the sins she had committed, and could not look away.

Bertolt resisted at first, but when he saw a baby—barely able to stand—scooped up and shoved into a Titan's mouth, his resolve broke.

His body shook, his expression faltered.

The armband of a Marleyan warrior was supposed to be a mark of justice. Each mission, each door kicked down, was meant to bring him closer to the status of hero.

But what kind of hero watched a child devoured alive?

Up close, the "devils" were no different from them. They had the same faces, the same warmth of blood, the same cries.

If they were wrong, did that mean we were right?

Separated only by walls—how different were they, really?

"They are demons!"

Reiner's voice cracked through the air.

He shouted as though volume alone could make him believe, as though fury could drown his guilt. "Demons don't deserve to be born into this world! Death is their destiny! We're only guiding them to the rightful end!"

Zeke's fist struck like a hammer.

Reiner's skull slammed against stone, blood spilling at once.

"You are the son of a devil," Zeke said coldly.

"I am a glorious Marleyan!" Reiner shot back, blood running down his face.

"Because of a badge? You think cloth erases your bloodline?" Zeke's voice was like acid. 

"Remember your father's words. The disgust on his face. What did he say when you showed him your glorious badge?"

Reiner's face was drained of color.

Zeke's smile cut cruel across the moment. He knew the boy too well. Unlike Annie or Bertolt, Reiner had served alongside him during the Mid-East campaign, after his return from the island. 

Zeke had seen him in the trenches, at campfires, after victories and failures alike.

He'd watched the ugly pattern repeat. Every time Reiner achieved even the smallest recognition, he ran back to his father.

Begging, hoping, desperate to be seen as something other than a monster.

But what had that man said?

"I beg you, don't come to me again. I struggled so hard to escape you—your devil mother, you, the curse you carry. Don't drag me back into that hell."

Ridiculous.

It didn't matter what armband Reiner wore, what nation he bled for, what victories he stacked high.

He would always be a devil in his father's eyes.

Pathetic. Funny, even, how hard he tried.

Zeke's hand softened briefly as it touched the blood at Reiner's temple—a strange parody of comfort, a comrade's hand lingering a moment too long. Then he stood, hefted the gun, and aimed.

The barrel, fixed long ago, now pointed at three small, bowed heads. The anti-Titan rifle's firepower was enough to blow them apart with a single shot.

"Alright," Zeke said evenly. "It's time for a question. Whoever answers correctly will live. Who left this gun behind?"

When he had first awoken, the weapon had been waiting for him. Fully loaded. Someone had left it deliberately, even after condemning him as a traitor.

He didn't need a rifle to kill Titans. A stone in a giant's hand would level the battlefield just as easily.

No—this was meant for something else.

It was a message.

A plea. To remain human. To protect Eren's family with his own hands.

Zeke raised his voice. "I'll repeat it. Whoever left me this weapon will be spared. This is your one chance. Answer me, and I'll let you live."

Silence.

Interesting.

"No way? You've built such a bond you're ready to live and die together already?" Zeke's tone was mocking, amused.

Still, no answer.

His eyes scanned their faces. Annie: silent, staring. Reiner: furious, twitching with restrained anger. Bertolt: trembling, terrified.

Nothing revealed itself.

Finally, Zeke leaned closer, his voice low. "Don't you want to go home? See your families again?"

For children, that thought was sharper than any knife.

Annie's voice finally broke the silence.

"Don't ask. Failure is failure. Failure means death. Today we're enemies. Why show mercy? Execute us."

Her tone was steady, resolute.

But Bertolt's voice cracked into the stillness, breaking her resolve apart: "It was Annie! Annie left you the gun! She gave you all the bullets!"

Reiner exploded. "I told you not to give him the gun! He's a traitor! He betrayed us! And now look—look! He turned it against us!"

"You're the Armored Titan, and you're scared of bullets?" Bertolt spat back, desperate and angry.

Reiner's cheeks burned red. "He shot my foot! He—he fights without honor!"

His desperation turned outward, dragging Bertolt down with him.

"And what about you? A Colossal Titan, fifty meters tall—and you let yourself get sniped? You're useless!"

"I was lying down!" Bertolt's face flamed scarlet. "If I wasn't lying down, there's no way he could've hit my neck!"

Their bickering rang like children on a playground, grotesque against the blood and rubble around them.

Zeke wasn't listening.

Not anymore.

His gaze fixed instead on Annie—the girl who said nothing, but whose silence spoke more than the others' noise.

"I never thought the one who fears snipers most would be the one to give me a rifle," he said slowly.

Annie's mouth tightened.

"But yes… it makes sense. You were the only one who dared look me in the eye."

He rose, dragged her to her feet, and pulled her aside.

"Let me go! Kill me if you want, but don't play games!" Annie shouted, her voice harsh with rage.

Zeke ignored her. His grip was firm, his eyes cold. "Annie," he said quietly, "do you want to go home?"