"Dad, what are you doing?"
Zeke rushed to the door, tugging at the handle—but it wouldn't move. Locked. From the outside.
Grisha's muffled voice came through the wood, urgent, trembling.
"It was the royal family, not the Founding Titan, who signed the vow of renunciation! Even if you inherit the Founding Titan, you'll still be bound by that vow!"
Zeke slammed his fists against the door. "No! The Attack Titan is free—"
"I can't gamble on that!" Grisha's voice broke. "You can't even say for sure that the Attack Titan can resist the vow! If it's bound as well, then Eldia's last hope will be gone forever!"
"I'll find a way to break it!" Zeke shouted back. "That vow was made by people, not by gods. Anything made by humans can be undone by humans! Why should the future be chained to our ancestors' mistakes?"
"I can't risk it," Grisha whispered hoarsely. "This is Eldia's final chance. If we lose, there will be nothing left. Zeke… if you truly love your brother, then save him. You and Eren together—save Eldia."
Zeke's voice cracked into fury. "Eren again! It's always Eren!" He struck the door hard enough for splinters to leap from the frame. "Didn't I tell you to stop letting him poison you with his nonsense? The 'future' he wants isn't the only one that exists! I've been given another chance, a rebirth—there's still time to change everything! Ten years is enough for Paradis to rise, to develop, to—"
"Not Eren!"
Grisha's shout silenced him.
Zeke froze.
"Eren didn't tell me to do anything," Grisha continued, voice trembling. "This was my decision."
Zeke blinked, disbelieving. "Your decision? You? You couldn't even raise your voice without shaking, and now you're making grand decisions on your own?"
"Yes… my own."
On the other side of the door, Grisha's back slid down the wall until his knees hit the floor. His voice came softer, lower. "For years, I shouted about freedom, about restoring Eldia, about overthrowing Marley. I thought power was salvation. But when I finally held that power in my hands… I realized I couldn't even save the people I loved most."
Zeke frowned. "What are you talking about? Eren and Carla are fine, aren't they?"
Grisha's answer came like a knife point through the silence. "Zeke… you really don't know anything."
There was a sudden bang! against the door.
Zeke jumped, startled.
His father had never raised a hand to him before. Never even yelled—not like this. The sound of flesh striking wood came again, harder this time.
"You know nothing!" Grisha's voice broke into a roar. "I love Carla and Eren—but I also love Dina and you!"
Zeke froze, stunned into silence.
Seconds passed before he muttered, "You're lying."
He thought of that other moment—years ago, or perhaps moments ago—in that dreamlike memory where Grisha, weeping, had told his future self that he loved him. The same words. Yet when they'd finally stood face to face, Grisha had looked at him with terror and rejection, shielding his new family behind him.
He felt like a fool.
A performer in someone else's tragedy.
The world's cruelest joke.
"You don't understand our dream," Grisha said, voice softening. "Dina and I wanted to save everyone—to end this endless chain of parent and child devouring each other. But I failed. Zeke, fate is a circle. No matter what path you choose, it leads to the same end. That's what Eren and I have both seen."
He paused. The air beyond the door seemed to hold its breath.
"Like your mother… and Eren's mother."
Grisha's voice wavered. "Whether Eren gives up Carla for his friends, or you give up Dina for Eren, the result is the same…"
He exhaled a broken laugh. "I lost a wife."
Zeke's throat tightened. "So what—you're saying I'm wrong?"
"No," Grisha said softly. "You're not wrong. None of you are. You're both brave. Braver than I ever was. Men like me… we can't decide anything. We hide behind ideals and call it love."
He drew a shaky breath. "The Founding Titan's power rests with me, and my obedient son is here, begging me to act. Yet when I hold that power… I realize I can't do it. I can't destroy, can't command, can't even choose a path for our people."
The wood creaked under his weight.
"When I was young, I thought I could save all of Eldia," Grisha whispered. "But I couldn't even save my two sons."
Silence.
Zeke's voice came out thin and trembling. "I don't need you to save me. I'm not important anyway."
There was a soft, wet sound—Grisha's fist striking the door again, weaker now.
"You are important!" his father cried. "Zeke, you're my son! You've always been important! Don't say that again!"
Zeke's lips twisted. "If that's true, then open the door. Let me in. Prove it."
He no longer believed a word.
On the other side, Grisha pressed his forehead to the wood. "I've seen what comes after. In Eren's memories. The Rumbling will end, the Founder will vanish, the Eldians will become human again. The curse will break. Zeke… promise me you'll live. You and Eren together—you'll find a better way. Please, live."
"Open the door!" Zeke's patience broke. "Don't make me use force!"
Grisha shouted, desperation cracking his voice: "Think of the children you brought with you! If you transform here, they'll all be implicated! The Survey Corps surrounds this place—if you turn into a Titan now, you'll never escape!"
The door trembled under Zeke's fists. His breath came ragged, his eyes wet. Between them stood wood, years, blood, and everything they'd never said until too late.
Somewhere outside, the quiet crunch of bread broke the silence.
Reiner mumbled with his mouth full, "You two keep arguing… I'm finishing this baguette."
The Yeager family always did have a thing for bread.