Compared to Lock's calm, Hannes was utterly bewildered.
Once he finally pieced together Dina's identity and her history with Grisha, his expression froze. Then came disbelief. Then envy. Then panic as Martha immediately pinched his arm hard enough to make him wince.
He would definitely be sleeping on the floor tonight.
How miserable.
After dinner, Lock didn't stay long. He said his goodbyes and stepped out into the cooling night air. He needed to move. These past weeks have been dominated by reorganizing the military, implementing policy reforms, and managing countless details. His body felt stiff, almost foreign.
"I hope both uncles can sleep well tonight," Lock sighed, amusingly.
With light steps, he headed back toward the base. It wasn't far, and he soon caught sight of Petra, Ymir, and Historia eating together.
Petra stood first.
"Lock, you ate already?"
"Mm. At home. You've all worked hard these days."
His eyes flicked toward Historia, whose mood was visibly dimmer. Lock understood instantly.
"You met your father?"
Historia nodded weakly.
"...He begged me to ask you to spare his life."
Petra had already explained Rod Reiss's situation to her during the past week. Lock had told Petra and Ymir to prepare her gradually — if Historia accepted it, she could stay. If she couldn't, Lock would not force her into a battlefield she wasn't ready for.
Especially given her royal blood. A liability at the wrong moment. A weapon in the right one.
To his relief, Historia had shown no signs of breakdown or extremism — only sorrow, disappointment, and quiet reflection.
Seeing her now, Lock spoke honestly:
"I'm sorry. I can't promise that."
The agreement with Darius Zackly was to hand Rod over. Zackly had fulfilled everything Lock asked of him. Lock would not betray that trust — not at this fragile stage.
Historia lowered her head.
"I understand…"
Petra opened her mouth, sympathy overflowing — but Ymir put a firm hand on her arm, stopping her.
Lock nodded to the three.
"Eat. I'll be at the training ground. If anything comes up, find me."
He didn't wait for replies. He went upstairs, changed into training clothes, and stepped outside again.
Petra frowned as his silhouette disappeared.
"Ymir, why didn't you let me speak?"
Ymir's response was cold, but not unkind.
"Do you want to make things harder for him?"
Petra fell silent.
Ymir leaned back in her chair.
"We're stable right now only because Zackly is cooperating. If Lock breaks his promise over Rod Reiss, the entire political balance collapses. Even if Lock controls the three branches, plus the Training Corps and Kenny's anti-personnel squad, it won't be enough."
Petra swallowed.
"You mean… the merchants… the religious remnants… militia groups…"
"Exactly," Ymir said. "People who can stir the masses. Unpredictable groups. We need Zackly to keep them in line until reforms are complete."
Her gaze drifted toward Historia.
"And Lock can't afford internal cracks. Not now."
Historia looked up, forcing a small smile.
"Thank you both… but don't make things difficult for him. Maybe this is fate."
Petra hugged her gently.
Training Ground
Lock circled the track again and again, feet pounding against dirt, breath steady and strong. The cold air felt sharp in his lungs. He welcomed it.
Rod Reiss's matter didn't occupy his thoughts. What consumed him instead was the tightening timeline.
Marley should be sending warriors soon.
It had been too long since their last infiltration. If his understanding was correct, Marley lay to the south of Paradis. Reiner's path during their original attack aligned with that direction.
Lock muttered under his breath:
"I need a contingency. I can't let us be caught off guard."
Outside Shiganshina, Miche Zacharius commanded a defensive team — but even for a top-tier warrior, Miche alone wasn't enough. There were too many unknowns.
I should go myself.
Lock clenched his jaw.
…But he was needed here.
Leaving now could destabilize everything Erwin, Levi, and he had built.
"Then Levi will have to lead the scout detachment… but Erwin still hasn't finished reorganizing the Military Police and Garrison."
Erwin's workload was beyond overwhelming. Rebuilding two corps from scratch was nearly impossible — but he was the only man Lock trusted to do so.
And time wasn't waiting.
New conscription…
Keith Shadis had already reported that the most recent recruit class was nearly ready for deployment. That alone opened options. But the real challenge lay in purging unqualified or corrupt soldiers from the Military Police and Garrison. That would require careful planning and patience.
Fresh blood was needed.
Quickly.
Lock accelerated. His speed increased steadily. Even after dozens of laps, he showed no signs of slowing.
His body, after more than a year of training, conditioning, and battles, was no longer normal. Endurance, strength, reflexes — every metric had surpassed human limits.
Against a three to four-meter Titan, he felt confident he could win barehanded.
A step closer to his ideal — tearing down Titans with nothing but his fists.
But he knew well:
In a world advancing technologically, fists alone aren't enough. Not against bullets. Not against artillery.
He needed power deeper than muscle.
He needed technology.
Paradis needed engineers, scientists, innovators — people who could help transform the island into a stronghold capable of standing against Marley's military might.
His mind drifted to faces he'd seen.
Technicians.
Inventors.
Recruits with potential.
Civilians with sparks of talent.
Paradis needed them all.
Lock slowed his pace, sweat dripping down his forehead, and whispered into the night:
"Paradis Island needs these people."
The moon hung high above him — silent, watchful.
Far beyond the horizon, in the dark waters south of the island…
Marley was already on the move.
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