"What do you mean by that?" Erwin demanded, his brows furrowing. There was an unease twisting in his gut — Zeke's arrogance wasn't empty. He spoke with the kind of confidence that came only from someone holding an unshakable truth.
And that truth, Erwin realized, was something even he might not be ready to face.
It felt eerily familiar — like the day in the Judgment Hall. Back then, everyone had believed Zeke was the one on trial, but Erwin had sensed something deeper: a shadow, a conspiracy lurking beneath the courtroom's grand stage. Now, that same sense of powerlessness crept over him again.
Could this situation still be salvaged?
Zeke's voice cut through the air, calm and deliberate. "I'm sorry, Erwin. There's something I haven't told you — something crucial."
Erwin's blue eyes narrowed. "Go on."
Zeke raised his head. "Your king… is a Titan. The most powerful Titan. And he's existed for two thousand years. Everyone within these walls — every single one of you — carries Titan blood.
You're all descendants of the same power. You can all become Titans. People from beyond the walls cannot."
"What nonsense are you spouting!" Erwin's voice echoed off the walls.
"I'm not joking." Zeke's tone didn't waver. "You've felt it yourselves, haven't you? From the first moment we met until now — Annie, Bertolt, Reiner — they were always afraid of you. That fear fades slowly, but it never disappears."
The room fell silent.
As the memory of their past interrogations returned, Erwin's heart sank. The Survey Corps had questioned Zeke and his companions separately, but despite their best efforts, they could never bring themselves to torment the children. Zeke had been the main target of questioning, while Annie, Bertolt, and Reiner were treated more gently — almost protectively.
And yet, despite the kindness, those three had never let their guard down. They'd flinched at every glance, every sound. Their fear had been unmistakable — raw, animal fear.
They'd assumed it was trauma from imprisonment, or perhaps the orphan's instinct to distrust.
But now…
"That fear," Zeke continued quietly, "came from what we were taught since childhood. 'The people inside the walls are devils.' 'They force the world to suffer.' 'If the walls fall, the demons will destroy everything.'"
Each word sank into Erwin's chest like a stone. His breathing quickened. His rational mind screamed at him to dismiss it, but deep down, he couldn't.
He grabbed Zeke by the collar. "Enough! Do you have any idea what you're saying?"
Zeke met his fury with calm eyes. "It wasn't that the people outside fled and built a new world here. It's that your nation once enslaved them. The Eldians conquered the world and forced others to bear children of Titan blood. That's why the people inside the walls look so different — you're all fragments of the same empire."
Erwin shook his head violently. "Lies! Look at yourself — you're the monster here! You heal from bullets! From blades! No human can survive that!"
Zeke sighed softly. His eyes lost their sharpness for a moment.
He'd expected this reaction. People within the walls would never accept that they were Titans.
They called themselves human, and he had once believed it too.
Even after seeing Marley's brutal experiments, the branding, the segregation — he had held onto the fragile hope that reconciliation was possible. That one day, the world and the Eldians could coexist.
But that dream had already shattered.
Zeke slowly pried Erwin's grip from his coat. "You don't believe me, but it's true. Any one of you could become what I am."
Erwin stared, speechless.
Then Zeke added with a faint smirk, "Except that short guy."
Levi's eye twitched. "Say that again, monkey, and I'll make sure regeneration won't help you."
Erwin took a steadying breath, forcing himself to stay composed. No matter how absurd the revelation, he couldn't afford to lose control — not as commander. If he wavered, the others would follow. He had to remain calm, rational, and sharp.
"Then answer me this," he said. "What exactly are the 'Titan Experiments' you mentioned? Don't tell me you made them up."
Zeke's tone grew solemn. "They're real. For centuries, the Fritz kings conducted experiments — forcing Eldians to interbreed with people from other nations. They wanted to discover which bloodlines carried Titan power most efficiently. That's how the Intelligent Titans were born — from Ymir, the first, to Sina, Rose, and Maria, and eventually to the nine who exist today. Even the Ackermans are a byproduct of those experiments."
Erwin frowned deeply. "Nine Titans? But in the courtroom, you said there were more than twenty!"
Zeke chuckled, his arrogance returning. "I said they were very stupid. You misunderstood."
Erwin's temple throbbed. He wanted nothing more than to throttle the smugness out of the monkey-faced man in front of him.
"What are these nine, then?"
Zeke began counting on his fingers, his voice resonant with strange reverence.
"The Founding Titan, wielded only by the Fritz royal bloodline. The War Hammer Titan, capable of shaping hardened weapons — that one belonged to the Tybur family. The Colossal Titan, sixty meters tall, able to wipe out cities with a single transformation. The Armored Titan, its body covered in hardened plates. The Female Titan, adaptable and swift. The Beast Titan, my own power — a beast's body with the mind of a man. The Jaw Titan, fast and ferocious. The Cart Titan, small but tireless, built for endurance and support."
He paused, a strange light flickering in his eyes.
"And finally," he said softly, "the one that carries the will to move forward no matter what — the Attack Titan. The Titan that never stops advancing toward freedom."
The words hung in the air, echoing through every corner of the room.
Levi, Erwin, and the others stood frozen. None of them spoke.
For the first time, the curtain hiding the world had lifted — and what lay beyond was something far more terrifying than any Titan outside the walls.