Reiner's sudden outburst stunned Zeke.
For half a second, he thought the boy's roar had echoed too loudly. His gaze snapped toward the Survey Corps soldier driving the cart ahead. Wind whistled past their ears, the wheels rattled over uneven ground.
According to the principle of wind direction, someone at the front shouldn't be able to hear clearly what was being said behind them.
The soldier never turned.
His back stayed steady, reins in hand.
Zeke exhaled, relieved. Good. They didn't hear him. The last thing I need is this brat's madness exposing us.
He lowered his head, voice flat but cutting. "So that's it? That's why you couldn't wait? Why you pulled Annie and Bertolt into breaking the wall early? Because your own life was miserable, you saw ordinary happiness here, and it made you furious enough to want to smash everything?"
His fists clenched tight in his lap. A thought solidified like stone in his chest.
Reiner can't stay. He's too unstable. Too dangerous. I need to deal with him. As soon as there's an opening, he has to go.
But before Zeke could plan further, Reiner's voice cracked out again.
"Yes!" he shouted—and the next second collapsed in on himself, clutching his head. "No…"
He trembled violently, words spilling out between sobs.
"Aunt Carula's cooking is so delicious… Brother Zeke's candy is so sweet… and Eren, Mikasa—they're so funny, so warm…" His voice broke, the tears streaming faster. "I'm scared. If I stay here any longer… if I live even one more second with them… I'll become one of them. I won't be able to call them demons anymore. I won't be able to do anything to them. I won't even want to go home!"
His wail was raw.
So that's it, Zeke thought grimly.
Destroy this place before the feelings grow too deep. Otherwise, hesitation poisons you. Action becomes guilt.
And guilt becomes a weight you carry for the rest of your life.
That was Reiner's life in the previous timeline. Guilt, self-hatred, unbearable contradictions.
For a fleeting instant, Zeke almost pitied him. He's just a child drowning in contradictions. Life in Marley was too bitter, so everything here feels intoxicatingly sweet.
Sweet enough to rot your willpower, to make you forget who you are, to corrode the "warrior" until nothing is left but weakness.
He forced a thin smile, but his words came sharp. "Your illness is getting worse."
Reiner's soldier-persona. His warrior-persona. The two clashed endlessly. A soldier who longed to protect. A warrior who only knew how to destroy. Now, they seemed aware of each other, tearing his mind apart.
Reiner sobbed louder, rocking where he sat. "What's wrong with this world? Why do they call us demons? What did we do wrong? Is it wrong… is it wrong just to be born?" His hands dug into his hair, nails scraping skin. "They say we're monsters… but are we really? What they say over there—it's different from what they say here! Which side is true? Who is lying? Who are we? Who are the real devils?"
His voice cracked again, collapsing into hoarse wails. "I want to know! I want to know!"
The sound scraped at Zeke's nerves. Reiner's despair wasn't inspiring pity anymore—it was grating, a saw carving against bone.
Zeke's eyes hardened. Enough.
His hand closed around the hilt of Moses's knife. Without hesitation, he drove it into Reiner's chest, right into the heart.
Reiner's eyes went wide. "?"
Annie and Bertolt froze, their faces draining of blood.
"You—stabbed me?" Reiner croaked, disbelief and pain colliding in his expression. The agony in his chest made it clear this was no dream.
Zeke's voice dropped low, almost gentle, as he brushed his hand across Reiner's eyelids. "Go to sleep, Reiner. You're too tired. Rest. If you really want answers about this world, then sleep well.
When you wake, I'll show you the truth."
Reiner's lips trembled. "You… you'll take me…?"
"Yes." Zeke's tone carried no hesitation. "The Ancestor herself will show you. She's terrifying, yes—she holds the power to destroy the world—but she's existed longer than any of us. If you walk her 'path,' you'll see the world's true history. You'll finally know who the real devil is."
Reiner's eyes fluttered, half-lidded. His lips formed the faintest trace of a smile. "I… see…"
Then darkness claimed him.
Whether he would ever wake again—only fate would decide. If he woke, he would have chosen. If not… then his torment was over.
Zeke pulled the knife free, wiping it clean against his sleeve. He turned—only to catch sight of Annie and Bertolt, pressed together, trembling like rabbits in a snare.
"…?" Zeke blinked at them.
"C-Captain," Bertolt stammered, voice breaking, "you—you just killed someone?" His legs shook so badly his knees rattled against the carriage floor. He had thought, no matter how harsh the captain's words, Zeke would never truly harm them. But this?
"Yeah," Zeke admitted with a nod, tone calm as if discussing the weather. "But the Armored Titan isn't so easy to kill. As long as he doesn't want to die, he won't. If he truly wishes for death, though… the wound will never heal. He'll never wake again."
Bertolt's lip quivered. "I-I know, but… why stab him at all?!" His voice cracked into a sob. "Why?"
"I told you," Zeke replied smoothly. "He's too tired. I let him rest."
"Resting means stabbing him in the heart?!" Bertolt wailed. His wide, watery eyes darted from Reiner's limp form to the bloody knife, then back to Zeke.
"I don't have sleeping pills," Zeke said, shrugging innocently. "This is the only method left to me."
Bertolt's jaw dropped. His whole body trembled with horrified disbelief.
Annie, pale as parchment, pressed her lips shut. She didn't speak, but her knuckles were white where she clutched her knees.
Bertolt finally collapsed back, tears spilling down his cheeks. "C-Captain, can you please… not be so… so hardcore… when you put your teammates to sleep or wake them up?!" His words tumbled out half-sobbing, half-pleading.
Zeke tilted his head, a faint smirk touching his lips. Children. They still don't understand. Mercy isn't always soft. Sometimes it's a blade.
And in the silence that followed, only the carriage wheels rumbled on.
...
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