"Lock, you're here," Grisha said.
His voice, distorted by the half-faded resonance of Titanization, sounded hoarse and unsettling.
Steam still curled around him like smoke rising from a dying fire. Beside him, Ymir and Dina Fritz stood in similar condition — sweat-drenched, breathing heavily, but alive and controlled.
As soon as they saw Lock, the three immediately halted their sparring. The ground around them was cracked and darkened from the heat of transformation.
Grisha smiled faintly as he and Dina stepped closer.
"I can already control my form freely now," Lock said, studying Dina with a satisfied expression.
Dina nodded.
"Yes. It's become manageable."
"Good." Lock crossed his arms. "Control is all that matters for you. You won't be sent to the front line — not unless things truly spiral beyond repair. So from here on, you can stop combat drills."
Truthfully, he had mixed feelings about the "training sessions." Watching Dina and Ymir bicker through half-serious mock battles reminded him less of soldiers and more of children competing for attention. It had reached the point where Lock found himself muttering, This isn't combat — it's playing Titan tag.
Ymir stretched lazily.
"That's fine by me."
Dina smiled with relief. She was no fighter at heart — her gentleness made her unsuited for violence. Every session left her pale and trembling, though she never complained aloud.
"Don't relax too much yet," Lock said. "Later tonight, I'll have a group of prisoners brought here. You'll use them to practice your coordination ability — to control Pure Titans."
Grisha blinked, his expression stiffening. "You're using… living people?"
Lock nodded. "Corpses can't transform. And these people… are not innocent. Don't worry — I'm not capturing civilians for experiments. Every one of them earned this fate."
Grisha looked uneasy. The horrors of past experiments and wars flashed in his mind.
The last time the Yeagers had tried to build something through sacrifice, it had ended in ruin.
But Lock's voice was calm and certain. It left no room for doubt.
"These are the same people who plotted to tear down everything we've built," he continued. "Traitors. Conspirators. Reactionaries who would have thrown our people back into tyranny if they could. You saw what happened with the sects and the merchant guilds — this time, I'm ending it completely."
Ymir's eyes flicked toward him. "So… these are the rest of the ones hiding in the capital?"
Lock's jaw tightened. "Exactly. Kenny helped clean out one layer. But that was only the surface. I've spent weeks gathering intelligence — names, locations, networks. This time, we eliminate the root."
The glint in his eyes was cold enough to make even Grisha falter.
He had seen Lock's ruthlessness before — but now, it had evolved into something sharper, honed by power and necessity.
Grisha exhaled, conflicted. "Lock, you're… far bolder than I ever was."
Lock gave a quiet, humorless laugh.
"Because I learned what happens when you hesitate."
He turned his gaze to Dina, who had gone silent.
"Don't look so uneasy. Once your control improves, these Titans won't be monsters. They'll be soldiers. A thousand of them — under our command. A force no other nation could stand against."
Grisha's brows knit together.
"A thousand…?"
"With that number," Lock said, "even Marley's military would think twice before sending an invasion fleet. This island's safety depends on it."
He spoke with the calm of someone describing a simple equation, but the implication was chilling.
Grisha could only nod. He had long since chosen to trust the boy who had carried his ideals further than he ever could.
Everything, he reminded himself, was for Eldia.
---
The arrests began under the veil of darkness.
Petra Rall led the Survey Corps' internal security teams — swift, disciplined, silent. The anti-human unit under Kenny Ackerman coordinated from the shadows, striking simultaneously in multiple districts.
Every target had been identified days in advance:
Religious fanatics who worshiped the false king, corrupt merchants clinging to lost privilege, and officials who had quietly funded rebellion.
Those who resisted were shot on the spot. The rest were dragged to holding cells beneath the old military barracks — prisoners, not corpses.
Lock needed them alive.
Petra watched grimly as her squads moved through the streets. "No unnecessary killing," she reminded them again and again, though she doubted anyone would listen.
Many of these soldiers had lost family during the civil unrest these same men had funded.
By midnight, the capital was silent.
Thousands had vanished from their homes.
Back at headquarters, Lock reviewed the operation reports.
When Petra entered, her cloak streaked with dust, she didn't need to say a word.
"It's done," she said softly.
Lock nodded. "Good. Tomorrow night, Dina begins her test."
Petra hesitated. "Do you… Really have to turn them into Titans?"
Lock's gaze stayed fixed on the papers in his hands.
"If we execute them, their deaths serve no purpose. This way, at least they'll contribute to the island's survival."
Petra bit her lip. "You make it sound so simple."
"It isn't simple," he replied. "It's necessary."
His voice was steady — too steady.
Petra understood then that there was no reaching him on this point. Whatever line once existed in Lock's morality had long since been crossed.
Yet she also knew… if he hadn't crossed it, none of them would still be alive.
---
By dawn, the people awoke to the distant echo of gunfire. But the city remained eerily calm.
Patrols moved through the streets, their presence explained away by the morning papers:
"Anti-Government Conspirators Captured! Order Restored in the Capital!"
The article was brief, but carefully worded — edited personally by Lock's office. It emphasized safety, progress, and the strength of the new leadership. No mention of blood. No mention of the missing thousands.
Over cups of bitter tea, citizens discussed it without fear.
"I knew it. The government won't let traitors cause chaos again."
"Exactly. We've suffered enough from corruption. Finally, someone is cleaning house."
"They say the culprits were planning to bring back the old royal system. Good riddance!"
The few intellectuals who understood what was really happening chose silence.
The reforms had made life better. The markets were growing, the poor were eating, and for the first time in generations, there was hope.
If this was the cost of stability… so be it.
---
Beneath the city, a thousand prisoners sat in darkness — silent, terrified, unaware of their fate.
Above them, Lock stood in the torchlight, arms folded, his reflection flickering across the iron bars.
Dina and Grisha stood beside him. Ymir waited by the gate, her expression unreadable.
Dina's hands trembled slightly, though she tried to hide it. "Are you certain about this?"
Lock nodded. "They've made their choices. Now we make ours."
He turned to her. "Focus only on control. Start with one — then two. No more than ten tonight."
Dina hesitated — then exhaled. "Understood."
Grisha rested a hand on her shoulder. "You can do this."
Lock stepped back as Dina's eyes began to glow with an eerie white light.
A faint tremor rippled through the underground chamber.
And for the first time, the rumble of coordinated Titanization echoed beneath the capital.
---
The streets were as they had been — lively, calm, oblivious.
Only the faint, metallic scent in the air hinted at the blood spilled in the shadows.
To the common people, it was a peaceful day.
To the nobles, it was a warning.
The reactionary movement was gone. The capital's underbelly had been gutted and filled with silence.
And as Lock stood atop the city walls, the wind tugging at his cloak, he knew what that silence meant.
For now, they were untouchable.
But in the distance, beyond the sea and the horizon, war was already on its way.
---
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