N.B : If you'd like to get early access to the next chapters of Universal hope (Chapter 27-31) why not consider supporting me at Patreon.com/Weeb Fanthom. Your donations will be very much appreciated. On my Patreon, supporters get the complete, uninterrupted chapters in full.
Few hours prior…
Thundering of hooves shattered the fragile silence of the backcountry trails; the sounds echoed through the dense forests flanking Wall Rose's southern expanse. Hange's squad tore through the underbrush like a storm unleashed, their horses lathered in sweat, nostrils flaring wide as they pushed to their absolute limits. The animals' flanks heaved with each desperate stride, muscles straining against the unyielding pace. Foam flecked their bits, and the ground blurred beneath them in a haze of kicked-up dirt.
Hange rode at the vanguard, her wild brown hair whipping the air like a banner and her glasses fogged with mist; but her eyes burned with unquenchable fervor. The reins were clutched in white-knuckled fists, her body leaning low over her mount's neck as she urged it onward with sharp, insistent kicks.
"Faster! We have to get there before whatever's brewing boils over!" she shouted over the roar of the gallop, her voice hoarse from the dust-choked air.
Behind her, Moblit clung to his saddle like a man riding a whirlwind, his face pale and set in grim determination. His horse had stumbled once on a root, nearly pitching him forward, but he righted himself with a curse under his breath.
"Squad Leader, we've been at full tilt for hours! The horses can't—"
"They have to!" Hange snapped back, not even glancing over her shoulder. Her mind was racking over half-formed theories and fragmented data: the explosive ichor, the crystalline fur, the claw marks that screamed of something engineered, something wrong. And those infiltrators. Every second lost was a second closer to catastrophe. She could feel it in her bones; a puzzle on the verge of shattering, and she was the only one who could piece it back together before the shards drew blood.
Keiji, Abel, and Nifa rode in tight formation behind, their expressions etched with the stoic resolve of veterans who'd stared down Titans and lived to regret it. Keiji's broad frame hunched low, his squint deepened by the wind, while Abel's jaw clenched rhythmically, his eyes scanning the treeline for threats. Nifa, the smallest but fiercest, gripped her reins with iron focus, her horse matching the others stride for stride despite its smaller build.
The trail narrowed ahead, twisting through a copse of ancient oaks. The squad plunged in without slowing, leaves whipping at their faces like tiny lashes. Hange's heart pounded in sync with the hooves. What if they were too late? What if the "purge" that spy had ranted about was already underway? The word echoed in her skull like a tolling bell: purge, purge, purge. Bigger picture, higher purpose… It reeked of fanaticism, of something vast and shadowy lurking behind the impostors' masks.
A distant rumble grew behind them; not thunder, but hooves. Hange risked a glance back, and saw a lone rider was closing the gap, pushing his horse to the brink as well, dust collecting behind him. The massive frame was unmistakable even at a distance.
"Mike?!" Hange called out, surprise cutting through her focus. She reined in slightly, slowing the squad just enough for him to catch up without halting entirely. The others exchanged confused glances.
Mike drew alongside, his horse snorting clouds of steam, flanks heaving like bellows. His face was a mask of grim intensity, nostrils flaring as he sampled the air even mid-ride. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but his voice was steady, laced with urgency. "Hange. Pull up for a minute. We need to talk."
Hange's eyes narrowed, but she signaled the squad to slow to a trot, then a halt in a small clearing ringed by ferns. The horses stamped and snorted, grateful for the reprieve, while the riders dismounted to stretch aching muscles. Hange swung down, striding toward Mike with her hands on her hips.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were back at HQ interrogating those face-stealing freaks with Levi!"
Mike dismounted with a grunt, his massive frame making the ground seem to dip slightly under his weight. He wiped sweat from his brow, his sharp eyes scanning the treeline out of habit before locking onto hers. "I was. Until one of those 'freaks' tried to tail you, Duran…or if that's his name, the one posing as Rolf. He broke out during the chaos in the stables. I chased him down."
Hange's squad gathered closer, Moblit clutching his reins tightly, Keiji and Abel exchanging tense glances, Nifa standing close by.
"He what?" Hange demanded, her voice pitching up in alarm. "What happened? Did you get him?"
Mike nodded curtly, his expression darkening. "Caught him on the trails. Put him down before he could do more damage. But before he... ended it himself, he ranted about a 'purge.' Said we couldn't stop it. That you were riding into hell."
The word "purge" hung in the air like a guillotine blade, cold and final. Hange's mind raced, piecing it together with the spies' words back at HQ. "Purge... the same thing the other one mentioned. It's not just about the beast. It's a plan. A cleanup. But of what? Us?"
Keiji muttered under his breath, his squint deepening into a scowl. "These spies... they're willing to die for it. Take secrets to the grave. Ruthless."
Abel nodded grimly, cracking his knuckles. "Enemy disposes of all evidence. No loose ends. Whatever this purge is, it's big. And we're charging right into it."
Nifa shifted uneasily, glancing at the darkening woods. "We should turn back. Regroup with the main force."
"No," Hange said firmly, her eyes blazing. "That's what they want. Delay us, let whatever's happening play out. We push on. Mike, sride with us. We need your instincts now more than ever."
Mike remounted without a word, his silence a grim affirmation. The squad followed suit, horses snorting as they sensed the renewed urgency. As they spurred back to full gallop, the forest seemed to close in tighter, branches like claws reaching for them. Hange's heart pounded; not just from the ride, but from the sinking certainty that they were racing toward something far worse than a rogue beast.
Later…
The sun had dipped low, painting the sky in bloody streaks as Hange's squad pushed their mounts to the brink once more. Non-stop for hours; no breaks, no water stops beyond hurried sips from canteens mid-gallop. The horses were faltering now with the rushed water supplied, legs trembling slightly but still going. The air grew thick with the scent of pine and earth, the forest closing in like a living thing, shadows lengthening into grasping tendrils.
Mike, riding point, suddenly reined in hard, his horse skidding to a halt in a spray of dirt. "Stop!" he barked, nostrils flaring wide. The squad pulled up behind him, confused and tense.
"What's wrong?" Hange demanded, wiping sweat from her brow. Her coat was dust-caked, glasses smudged, but her eyes were sharp.
Mike dismounted, crouching low to the ground, his face inches from the dirt. He inhaled deeply, slowly, his expression twisting into one of grim revulsion. "I smell…dead bodies. This way."
The words sent a chill rippling through the group. Moblit paled, clutching his reins tighter. "A body? Here? In the middle of nowhere?"
Keiji drew his blade halfway, eyes scanning the treeline. "Could be unrelated. Bandits, maybe."
Mike shook his head, already moving off the trail into the underbrush. "No. The scent... it's layered with something from that device those spies used. And something else."
The squad followed, leading their horses through the dense foliage. Thorns snagged at cloaks, branches whipped faces, but no one complained. The air grew heavier, a subtle rot seeping in; sweet and sickening, like overripe fruit left in the sun too long.
Mike stopped at a small clearing, the ground was uneven, turned in patches. He knelt, brushing away leaves and dirt with his hands that were now gloved. The squad gathered around, hearts pounding.
"Here," Mike grunted, uncovering a shallow grave. The soil was loose, poorly packed, as if dug in haste. He dug deeper, revealing fabric stained, torn. Then, a hand: pale, rigid, fingers curled in death's grip.
Hange knelt beside him, her scientific curiosity warring with rising horror. "Careful. Don't disturb too much."
They uncovered the bodies: two men, dressed in Cadet Corps instructor uniforms. Their faces were bloated, eyes glassy and staring, the smell hit like a wall: putrid, cloying, the unmistakable stench of rot accelerating in the humid air.
Moblit's face turned green; he turned away, retching into the bushes. Nifa covered her mouth, eyes wide with shock. Abel cursed under his breath, hands shaking from both tremor and anger. Keiji knelt closer though covered his face with his cape, examining the uniforms. "These are real instructors. Badges match the 103rd. Ral and Kent, based on the name tags."
Hange's mind whirled, pieces slamming into place with sickening clarity. "The impostors... they killed the real ones. Took their places. That's how they infiltrated, they've been playing us-no-everyone; from the inside this whole time."
Mike nodded grimly, his nostrils flaring again. "Scent matches the wax on the spies back at HQ. And... something else. Ozone. Like the beast. They crossed paths."
Abel's jaw tightened. "What would those bastards possibly want with the cadet corps. Unless…Those kids... they're sitting ducks."
Nifa's voice shook. "We have to get in there. Now."
Hange stood, her face set in stone-cold resolve. "Mount up. Full speed. If the purge is what I think... we're already too late for some."
The squad remounted, hearts heavy with dread. They pushed harder as they returned back to trail.
103rd Cadet corps 2nd quadrant…
The immense metal gates of the 103rd Cadet Corps loomed ahead, flanked by fire torches that cast long, flickering shadows across the packed earth. Hange's squad pulled up short, horses snorting clouds of steam into the chill night air. The ride had been grueling; nearly 7 hours worth of non-stop gallop, but they were finally here.
Two guards stepped forward from the gatehouse, clad in standard Cadet Corps trainer uniforms: crisp short brown jackets clad with a symbol of two crossed swords, polished boots, faces stern under peaked caps. They held torches high, illuminating the squad's dust-caked forms.
"Halt! State your business," the first guard barked, his voice gruff but measured. His eyes scanned them warily, hand resting on his sword hilt.
Hange dismounted smoothly, forcing a disarming smile despite the knot of urgency twisting her gut. She adjusted her glasses, playing the role of the eccentric scientist to perfection.
"Good evening! Squad Leader Hange Zoë, Survey Corps. We're here on follow-up research. Our colleagues provided some fascinating materials from this site a day or two back concerning the incident of the…'demon dog' rumors. Claw marks on wood, that sort of thing. We'd like to come in and take a closer look, perhaps collect more samples if possible."
The guards exchanged a subtle glance, their postures stiffening almost imperceptibly. The second guard stepped forward, his tone polite but firm. "Research? At this hour? The grounds are closed for the cadets' training. No unauthorized entry."
Hange tilted her head, feigning confusion. "Training? In the dead of night? Sounds intriguing! All the more reason to observe—perhaps we can assist? The Survey Corps has expertise in practical field afterall."
Mike, still mounted, inhaled deeply. His nostrils flared, and his expression darkened. "Those gadgets' smell." he muttered under his breath, low enough for only Hange to hear. "Same as the spies."
The first guard's hand tightened on his hilt. "I'm afraid you'll have to come back tomorrow. Instructors' orders."
Hange's smile faded, her eyes narrowing behind her glasses. "Tomorrow might be too late. We've reason to believe there's an active threat here. Let us in, or we'll—"
The second guard drew his blade halfway, the steel glinting. "Threat? This is a training facility. No threats here but unruly visitors."
Keiji and Abel dismounted, hands on their own hilts. Moblit shifted uneasily, while Nifa's fingers twitched toward her ODM anchors. The air crackled with impending violence.
Hange's voice dropped, all pretense gone. "You're not fooling anyone. We know what you are."
The guards' facades cracked. The first lunged, blade flashing toward Hange. She dodged, blade in hand and swung it to the hilt. It connected with his arm—crack!—the guard grunting in pain, blade dropping.
Mike charged in, his massive frame barreling the second guard off his feet. The man rolled, coming up with a dagger, but Mike's boot slammed into his wrist, snapping bone with a wet crunch. The guard howled, clutching his shattered arm, blood seeping between fingers.
Keiji and Abel piled on the first, Abel tackling him while Keiji disarmed him with a swift kick. The fight was brutal but short. Hange bashed the second guard's knee with her foot, dropping him. Mike headlocked the first, squeezing until he went limp, unconscious but alive.
They bound the guards with their own belts, gagging them. "There's definitely more of these guys inside." Mike confirmed as he glanced past the locked gate.
Hange nodded grimly. "We go in. Quietly. Find the impostors."
Unbeknownst to them, high in the treeline, a third Knight; cloaked in shadow; had witnessed it all. He slipped away silently, racing back to report to Ser Valerius.
Chapter 27-31 are already available on Patreon.com /Weeb Fanthom.