"What did you say!?"
Petra's voice cracked in disbelief, her hands clenched tightly at her sides.
Lock raised a hand, signaling for calm.
"Lower your voice," he said evenly. "You're talking about the banned sects and the merchant syndicates, aren't you?"
Kenny's grin widened.
"So you already know. How about I do you a favor and deal with them for you?"
Lock's expression didn't shift.
"What do you want as payment?"
Kenny whistled.
"Straight to business, huh? Don't make me sound so cheap, kid. Am I that kind of man?"
"Yes," Lock said without hesitation.
Kenny froze mid-grin.
"...You really don't hold back, do you?"
Petra bit her lip to stop a laugh, but the tension in the air made her chest feel tight.
"Well then," Kenny said, spreading his hands theatrically. "I've got a small request. Shouldn't be hard for someone in your position."
He glanced toward Petra. "Mind closing the door, sweetheart?"
Petra scowled, but did as he asked. The soft click echoed like a closing verdict.
Lock stepped closer, his tone low and certain.
"You know I can't give you Titan power. Not now."
Kenny chuckled.
"That's not it. I want to leave the capital. Or, more specifically…" — he adjusted his hat, eyes darkening — "I'm heading to Shiganshina."
Lock studied his face carefully.
"For Levi?"
Kenny met his gaze head-on. The faint amusement in his eyes didn't quite hide something deeper — pride, guilt, maybe even affection.
"That's part of it," Kenny said quietly. "But not all. There are things I still need to do with my own hands. I've spent my life standing in shadows, watching others act. I'm done waiting."
Lock understood instantly.
It wasn't redemption Kenny was after. It meant something.
"Fine," Lock said at last. "But before you leave, do me one favor. Clean up the capital first."
He reached into his coat and withdrew a small, black case — unmarked, compact, and sealed with a simple latch.
He offered it to Kenny.
"You know how to use this," Lock said. "Who you use it on — or whether you use it at all — is up to you."
Kenny flipped open the case, peeked inside, and gave a satisfied smile.
"Now that's what I call a parting gift. Don't worry, I'll make sure those rats never see dawn. Guess this is goodbye for now, Commander."
Lock's lips curved slightly.
"I'll look forward to our next meeting."
With a tilt of his hat, Kenny turned and strode out, boots clicking against the marble floor. His men fell in behind him silently. Within moments, they were gone.
A blood-red dusk was falling over the city.
Petra remained motionless by the window, watching the disappearing silhouettes. Finally, she turned sharply.
"Lock… are we really still cooperating with someone like Kenny Ackerman?"
Her voice trembled between anger and disbelief.
Lock arched an eyebrow.
"Why not?"
"Why not!?" she repeated. "He's dangerous, unstable, unpredictable—"
"That's exactly why he's useful."
Petra stared at him, speechless.
"There are things we can't touch," Lock said calmly, "not without losing legitimacy. That's where Kenny and his Anti-Personnel Squad come in. They move where law cannot."
"That may be true," Petra said, her tone tight with frustration, "but trusting someone like him is reckless!"
Lock flicked her forehead lightly, smiling.
"Relax. Kenny's not as unreliable as he seems. He's… pure, in a way. His motives are simple — and that makes him easier to predict than most politicians."
Petra frowned. "Pure? That's not the word I'd use for a man who's killed half the Underground."
"That's why you're better than him," Lock said. "And why I can't afford to be."
He turned away, voice cooling.
"Anyway, enough philosophy. Gather a team. There'll be bodies tonight. You'll lead cleanup and collection."
Petra blinked. "Collection?"
Lock gave her a pointed look.
"Merchant estates, ledgers, assets — everything. Don't let it go to waste."
Petra sighed.
"I see. The treasury will grow overnight."
Her voice held reluctant admiration — and a trace of pity.
"You knew about these rebels long ago, didn't you? You waited until they all gathered… just to wipe them out in one night."
Lock met her gaze without flinching.
"It's efficient. And it ensures they're all gone. These factions were never going to stop. Better to cut the infection out than let it fester."
He looked out the window again, where the first torches of evening flickered in the streets.
"There's always someone waiting in the dark to strike at what's built in the light. We can't let them linger."
The quiet finality in his tone left Petra no room for argument.
"I'll find them," she said at last.
Her expression hardened — all emotion replaced by the cold efficiency of a soldier.
That Night
When darkness fell, the city seemed to hold its breath.
The people of the capital slept soundly, unaware of what was happening beneath their windows.
Kenny Ackerman's Anti-Personnel Squad moved like phantoms — striking without hesitation.
Warehouses burned. Secret cellars bled. The cries of men who once whispered of rebellion were swallowed by the night.
Not just sect leaders.
Not just merchants.
Their enforcers, their spies, their financiers — all gone.
Every trace of the anti-government network was erased before dawn.
Petra's division followed hours later, sweeping through the aftermath — documenting, collecting, cleaning.
At first, some soldiers hesitated. The bodies, the blood, the silent streets — it felt wrong. But when they saw the evidence, the torture records, the assassination plans… that hesitation burned away.
Petra herself oversaw the confiscation of merchant vaults. Gold, property deeds, secret caches of weapons — all seized and delivered directly to the Survey Corps treasury.
By sunrise, it was as though none of it had ever existed.
The Next Morning
When the capital awoke, everything looked normal.
Merchants opened their stalls. Children played in the streets.
The only trace of the slaughter was a faint metallic scent drifting through the dawn breeze.
Those who had heard screams in the night stayed quiet.
Those who knew something chose not to speak.
And those who had once plotted now lay beneath the cobblestones, their names already forgotten.
The reactionary force that had simmered for months was gone.
In its place — silence.
Cold, absolute silence.
A silence that carried both fear and order.
And for Lock, that was enough.
Because before they could resist the world beyond the Walls…
They had to cleanse the rot within.
---
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