"No, she should have left the Shiganshina District," Lock said truthfully.
Seeing the disappointment on Grisha's face, Lock couldn't help but offer a few comforting words.
"At least now she's probably still alive. That's something worth holding onto."
"Promise me," Grisha said earnestly, his eyes sharp and desperate. "If you ever meet her again in the wild… don't kill her."
Lock nodded. "I promise you."
Keeping Dina Fritz alive—and finding a way to restore her human form—was a crucial part of their plan. Thinking of that, Lock asked quietly, "How are things going on your end?"
"I've become fairly well-known on the mainland," Grisha said, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Recently, many powerful people, including members of the royal government, have come to me for treatment. But I still can't make contact with the Reiss family."
"Don't worry," Lock said gently. "We still have time."
Grisha's eyes grew anxious. "No… I don't have time."
Lock fell silent.
Half an hour later, after finalizing the rough direction of their next steps, Lock stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him. The air felt heavy. He let out a long sigh.
Perhaps this was the greatest sorrow of being a Titan shifter—the thirteen-year curse. No matter how strong or brilliant one was, time was merciless. Just as Grisha said, there wasn't much time left for him.
The father's will would soon pass to the son. From the moment Eren was born, his fate had already been sealed.
Eren was the best candidate to inherit the Attack Titan.
Lock walked out with a complicated expression, and as soon as he stepped into the yard, Eren and the others surrounded him.
"Lock," Eren asked anxiously, "what's the situation in the Shiganshina District?"
He was deeply concerned about his hometown.
Not only Eren, but Armin and Mikasa also looked at Lock with tense, expectant eyes.
But the truth was always cruel.
When they learned that the Shiganshina District had become a Titan breeding ground, their faces fell. Their spirits, so full of determination moments ago, dimmed with despair.
Eren, who had always burned with hatred for the Titans, clenched his fists tighter. His determination to join the Survey Corps and fight back only grew stronger. Even Mikasa—normally so calm and resistant to the idea—didn't try to stop him this time. A faint, unreadable emotion flickered in her usually steady gaze.
Lock understood her. Beneath Mikasa's quiet exterior was a fiercely protective heart. She cherished those around her deeply.
Later that evening, Carla and Martha returned home, followed by Keith, who came late from his shift at the arsenal—a post Lock had personally recommended him for. For the first time in a long while, the family sat together for dinner. They spoke about the chaos outside, shared memories of better days, and sighed with a quiet, mutual understanding.
They were fortunate—Grisha was a respected doctor, and Lock had influence within the Survey Corps. Together, they had stability and protection.
But for ordinary citizens without power or connections, life within the Walls had become unbearable.
With limited farmland and dwindling food stores, jobs were scarce. The royal government's apathy only made matters worse. Society inside the Walls—especially near Wall Rose—was restless and near collapse.
The Garrison Corps alone could no longer maintain order. Even the Survey Corps had been forced to assist in suppressing riots, their blades and ODM Gear pointed at civilians instead of Titans.
It was a bitter irony.
And though Lock knew this instability could lead to catastrophe, he was powerless to intervene—for now. The timing wasn't right, and his influence alone wasn't enough to sway the government.
The next morning, after a brief night's rest, Lock left early. He had other responsibilities to manage—particularly his connection with Ymir.
He arrived at the Garrison's training yard without issue and found Petra and Ymir already there, practicing.
"Lock, you're back," Petra called out with her usual bright smile.
"I'm back," he replied with a nod, returning her warmth. "What are you two doing?"
"Training," Petra answered seriously. "We women aren't as strong as you men, so we have to work harder. I don't want to be a burden on missions."
"And her?" Lock asked, glancing at Ymir, who avoided his eyes.
"Of course Ymir's training too," Petra said gently. "She's too thin for her own good."
Ymir tried to hide a small smile. It was clear she enjoyed Petra's company.
Lock gave a faint grin and shrugged. "Well, I could use some early training myself. Let's do it together."
"Alright," Petra agreed readily.
Ymir opened her mouth to refuse but bit back the words, clenching her jaw instead. She had always been wary of Lock—afraid of him, even—but Lock had noticed long ago and never minded.
After stretching, Lock began his morning exercises.
The training ground was quiet, with only the three of them present.
At first, Petra and Ymir managed to keep up with him. But before long, they were both left far behind, breathless and wide-eyed as Lock continued his relentless pace with unwavering energy.
"Are you trying to discourage us?" Petra gasped, half-joking, half-defeated. "I'm never training with Lock again!"
Despite her exasperation, Lock couldn't help but admire her resilience. Petra was no ordinary soldier—an elite member of the Survey Corps, skilled enough to slay Titans on her own. She wasn't tall or heavily built, but she was capable, agile, and sharp.
Still, compared to Lock, the difference was stark. It was a vivid reminder of what separated genius from mortal effort.
Meanwhile, Ymir muttered something under her breath—something that sounded like "pervert"—and looked away, ignoring Lock completely. She just wanted to stay close to Petra, to feel the rare warmth of companionship she'd long been denied.
"If only I could always be with Petra…" Ymir thought, lowering her gaze. "Somewhere peaceful… somewhere without Titans."
Her chest tightened at the thought of Petra returning to the battlefield. The fight against Titans was deadly, unforgiving. Losing Petra—after finally finding someone who felt like family—was a thought Ymir couldn't bear.
But then came the inevitable sting of guilt. Her secret weighed heavily.
"If she knew I was a Titan," Ymir thought bitterly, "would she still treat me this way?"
Petra noticed Ymir's lingering stare and raised a brow. "Is there something on my face?"
Ymir shook her head and smiled faintly. "No. I just think you're really kind."
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A/N:
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