"Can't you just stay with me?"
"You said that, didn't you?"
"'If only I could play with you more…'"
"You said that a few hours ago, through Eren's memories—to my future self, right?"
Zeke's voice trembled with rising emotion, every word heavier than the last. "So why are you treating me like this now that I'm really here? Don't you know what I gave up to get here?"
His eyes burned red as his voice cracked into a shout.
"I gave up my dignity! I let myself be watched like an animal mating in a cage. I had no pride, no shame left! I was like a dog in heat, forced to breed from morning to night!"
"I gave up my honor, my title—everything! When I stopped Reiner and the others from breaching the walls, I knew there was no turning back. I've spent thirteen years climbing from a nameless recruit to the Warrior Captain commanding all of Marley's Eldians… and now it's all gone!"
His fists shook violently. "Everyone I knew, everyone I once called friend—now they're my enemies. The next time we meet, it'll be to kill each other."
He choked back a sob. "Even my mother is gone…"
Zeke's shoulders quivered. "I came all the way here from Marley for a promise you never even meant to keep! Is that my fault? Did I ask too much?"
His breath broke, and then he couldn't hold it back anymore. He clutched his hair in both hands, collapsing to his knees as tears streamed down his face.
Grisha stood frozen, eyes wide. He had never—never—seen his son cry like that. Not even when Zeke was a frightened child betrayed by his own parents.
Could it be… had he truly been wrong about him?
"I'm sorry…" Grisha whispered, his voice trembling. "I didn't know you'd suffered so much. I thought you were the same as the man from Eren's memory—"
He faltered. That man had been the enemy of Paradise Island.
The one who murdered countless soldiers.
A cold-hearted warrior who sought to wipe out the entire Eldian race.
An arrogant royal who cared for nothing but bloodlines and control.
A monster, through and through.
But this man—this broken man before him—wasn't that.
Zeke forced a smile through his tears. "You never trusted me… but still, before saving the world, I wanted to save you first." He wiped his eyes roughly. "But I guess this is where it ends."
He exhaled deeply, his expression hardening once again. "I've done everything I could. If you still don't believe me, then so be it. Let the world destroy itself. I won't fight anymore. I've got nine years left to live—I'll spend them however I please. No more struggles. No more pain."
He turned toward the door. "Still," he added, glancing back, "I'll help you fulfill your wish if you ever change your mind. If you want to open the path, I'll let you. Hell, I'll even chop off my own head if that's what it takes."
Then, coldly, he said, "Now move. Don't block my way."
But Grisha didn't move.
"The world's about to end," Grisha said quietly. "Aren't you going to stop it?"
Zeke's lips twitched into a faint, hopeless smile. "Annie is dead. You're dying too. I couldn't save Eren… There's nothing left worth saving."
He waved his hand, motioning for Grisha to step aside.
But again, Grisha didn't move. His voice shook. "Then… is it enough if I just accompany you?"
Zeke froze. Slowly, he looked up, disbelief washing over him. "You… you're willing?"
Grisha nodded—then hesitated, shaking his head with a bitter, broken smile. "But I don't have much time left."
"It doesn't matter!" Zeke said quickly, hope flickering back into his eyes. "Whether it's a month, a week, even a few days—I don't care! As long as you stay with me!"
Grisha chuckled softly. "Just a few days?"
"Yeah!" Zeke nodded eagerly.
"Throw the ball, catch the ball?" Grisha said, miming the motion.
Zeke's eyes brightened instantly. "Yeah!"
Grisha smiled faintly. "So Zeke really likes that game… I thought—"
"Thought what?"
"Nothing." Grisha shook his head gently. "Come on, let's go. The Survey Corps is waiting outside. What did you do to get them so riled up, anyway?"
Zeke blinked. "Oh… nothing much. Just beat up their captain."
Grisha sighed in relief. "That's fine, then. Their commander and I go way back. I'll talk to him. As long as my identity isn't exposed, we'll be fine, right?"
Zeke tilted his head, thinking. "No, not yet."
"Good," Grisha said, visibly relaxing. "The people here have been deceived by the royal family for generations. They don't know the truth about the world. As long as you don't transform in front of them, they'll never believe Titans are human."
Zeke hesitated. "…But I told them that Titans are humans."
"…"
Grisha's smile froze completely.
"I mean, it's fine, right?" Zeke said innocently. "You've got the Founding Titan, I've got royal blood. Together we can alter memories however we like! Change everyone's mind, rewrite their past—whatever you want."
Grisha stared at him blankly.
Zeke blinked. "Wait… you don't know how to use the Founding Titan, do you?"
"I—I only knew it could control Pure Titans!" Grisha stammered. "I didn't know it could… rewrite memories!"
"Oh, come on!" Zeke smacked his forehead. "That rotten little brother—he left out the most important part! He didn't even pass down the full memory!"
He huffed, but quickly his expression shifted into childish enthusiasm. "Anyway, the Founding
Titan's got tons of functions! You can enter the Paths for private chats, practice techniques, or just… hang out! Time doesn't even exist there. You might even meet Mom! Though honestly, I've only met past inheritors before, never normal souls…"
Then his eyes lit up even more. "Oh! And there's the Founding Grandmother! She loves playing with sand! We could build sandcastles together! Next time we go, let's bring her some hot pot!"
Grisha blinked, utterly stunned by his son's sudden energy. "You… seem awfully familiar with the Paths."
"Of course I am!" Zeke said, pouting slightly. "That rotten little brother of mine locked me in there for years just so he could steal the Founder's power!"
Then he stopped, realization dawning. "Oh, right—Dad, where's Eren?"
Grisha blinked. "He's at home with his mother, of course."
"I'm not talking about little ten-year-old Eren!" Zeke snapped. "I mean the older one—the one with the unwashed hair, gloomy eyes, and that same ugly cross-print shirt he's worn for years! The one who pretends to be some deep philosopher while deceiving his own brother! That failed, moody little 'freedom messiah' who keeps shouting Tatakae but can't even win a single game of catch! That one!"
Grisha opened his mouth… but no words came out.
The silence that followed was so heavy it felt like the air itself held its breath.
Zeke huffed, folding his arms. "…Tatakae, my ass. Should've just stayed home and had hot pot."