"First, let's test your adaptability!"
Early in the morning, everyone assembled at the training grounds. Before them stood several "training devices" built from iron frames.
These machines simulated the stable use of the omni-directional mobility gear, allowing humans accustomed to two-dimensional movement to adapt to three-dimensional motion. If one couldn't maintain balance on this machine, then there was no way to proceed to real equipment training—elimination would be the only outcome.
Instructor Keith glared with wide eyes and shouted at them, "Anyone who can't even do this doesn't even qualify to be bait! You can only roll back home and farm!"
Each person was given five minutes to practice, after which they would rotate in turn.
At this very first trial, those blessed with natural talent were already beginning to stand out.
For example, Mikasa—once she mounted the apparatus, she hardly moved at all, her balance steady to an astonishing degree. Then there was Sasha: having grown up as a hunter, her control over balance was already extremely refined, and she mastered it with casual ease. As for Jean, Connie, and the others, though they were a bit clumsier, they could at least barely maintain their balance—given more practice, they would surely be able to control it perfectly.
As for Lillian himself…
His sense of balance was extremely poor. The moment he climbed onto the device, he toppled headfirst to the ground, provoking a burst of laughter from the surrounding trainees.
The laughter irritated him.
Before he could stop himself, he slammed a fist hard into the metal support frame of the machine.
Clang!
A loud, ringing crash echoed through the training ground.
Everyone froze for a moment. Then, as they turned to look at him, fear crept into their expressions.
Because—on the iron frame, there was now a dent nearly one centimeter deep.
"Lillian Kafka!"
Instructor Keith immediately noticed the disturbance and strode over. He glanced at the dent—his eyes widening in shock for an instant—then flew into a furious rage.
"You brat! Are you deliberately damaging training equipment?! Do you have any idea how much one of these machines costs?!"
"…Sorry. I didn't mean to," Lillian said quietly, lowering his head.
"Hmph! If it happens again, you're out of here immediately!"
After barking this warning, Keith turned and left.
Yet in his heart, he was deeply shaken.
This kid… actually has that much strength?
Meanwhile, Lillian himself stared at the dent, his expression complicated. Uncontrollably, his mind drifted back to that memory—
The scene of him being grabbed by a Titan…
Stuffed straight into its mouth.
Although he had survived and entered the Walls alive, and had even obtained one-third of that Titan's physique…
He would rather give up this terrifying strength if it meant that being "eaten" had never happened at all.
It was an enormous psychological shadow.
Moreover, the power granted by this physique had taken him a full month after entering the Walls just to barely control. Even now, he could only perform at the level of a normal person—when sitting down, he wouldn't crush the chair; when picking up bowls and chopsticks, he wouldn't accidentally grind them into powder.
He understood very well that once this strength was noticed by someone with ill intent, trouble would inevitably follow.
And besides, it was also a form of insurance.
A hidden trump card.
Perhaps, at some critical moment, it might change something.
Taking a deep breath, he warned himself inwardly not to lose control again. Then he returned to practicing his balance.
From that moment on, no one dared laugh at him anymore.
After all, everyone had seen the dent in the iron rod.
If that punch had landed on one of them, their bones would have been shattered on the spot.
—Of course, if they had known that this was still far from Lillian's full strength, who knew what they would think then.
"Hahahahaha!"
Suddenly, loud laughter erupted nearby.
Lillian turned his head and saw that on another machine, Eren was hanging upside down, his head pointing straight at the ground, while the onlookers laughed without restraint.
"Eren Yeager! What the hell are you doing?!"
Instructor Keith squatted in front of him and barked, "Get your upper body upright!"
Yet despite the scolding, Lillian could clearly see the utterly despairing look on Eren's face.
For someone who had sworn to exterminate all Titans, if he couldn't even pass this very first test…it was nothing short of cruel irony.
And unbearably humiliating.
Of course, Lillian—familiar with the story—knew this wasn't because Eren lacked talent.
On the contrary…his gaze drifted toward Keith.
Rather, it was this instructor—deliberately trying to prevent him from passing.
Soon, daylight faded into dusk.
The entire day passed in training.
Most of the recruits had already mastered the basics of the omni-directional mobility gear, and Lillian was no exception. Although he wasn't particularly gifted, this was ultimately a matter of practice, so he barely managed to qualify.
He was satisfied with this result.
He had never expected to become some kind of combat genius. As long as he could graduate smoothly, that was enough.
However…while some rejoiced, others despaired.
At the center of everyone's attention, Eren suffered a disastrous day.
Everyone knew he aspired to join the Survey Corps and drive out the Titans.
Yet throughout the entire day, he hadn't succeeded even once.
At best, he could hold for three or four seconds before losing balance and crashing down.
Naturally, he was extremely frustrated.
Now, as the sun set and everyone else went to rest, he still stubbornly refused to give up and continued training alone.
"If you just follow the basic requirements, you should be able to do it," Mikasa said.
She and Armin stayed with him.
As the best performer—who had maintained perfect balance on her very first attempt—Mikasa's guidance was exactly what Eren needed most.
"Don't force yourself to be perfect. Just keep your balance forward and backward, and slowly distribute your weight between the waist harness and the straps on your boots."
"Stay calm and you'll succeed. Even I managed it!" Armin encouraged from the side.
"Alright! I feel like I can definitely do it this time—put me up, Armin!"
"Mm!"
Encouraged by his companions, Eren finally gained a bit of confidence.
And with no one else around watching, the pressure on him was much lighter.
As Armin pulled the lever, Eren's body was slowly lifted into the air.
But just as he tried to control himself—
Suddenly, he felt his balance slip.
And with a violent thud, he slammed headfirst into the ground.
Blood burst out instantly.
"Eren!"
---
Evening Dining Hall
Eren had a bandage wrapped around his head, his expression darker than ever.
He could hear people whispering about him nearby.
But he had no strength to argue back.
Because he knew—if this was truly all he was capable of, then he had no chance of stepping onto the battlefield.
Which meant that in the assessment a few days later, he would be eliminated from the corps and sent back to farm and till the land.
That was something he absolutely could not accept.
Bang!
He slammed a fist onto the table.
He had no appetite at all.
Armin tried to console him. "Eren, don't be like this. No matter how much you worry, it won't help. Just work harder tomorrow, that's all…"
"Damn it! I…"
He raised his head.
His eyes suddenly landed on Lillian, who was sitting alone in a distant corner, quietly eating bread.
Suddenly, something flashed in his mind.
His eyes lit up.
And with a sudden motion, he stood up and strode straight toward him.