Rod Reiss was unraveling.
Cold sweat traced the creases of his forehead as he stood in the center of the courtroom, surrounded by silence sharp enough to draw blood. Every heartbeat sounded like a hammer blow in his skull.
President Zachary leaned forward from the high bench.
"Lord Reiss," he said evenly, "you leapt to your feet just now. Do you have an objection?"
"I … I did not!" Rod forced the words through clenched teeth, his voice trembling despite the effort to compose himself. "No objection, Your Excellency."
But Zachary's stare didn't soften. "If you have no objection," he asked, "why accuse Commander Zeke Yeager of speaking nonsense?"
"I only meant—" Rod bowed stiffly, his face darkening. "Your Excellency President Zachary, I meant no offense. It's just … what he said is too horrible to believe.
This 'Titan experiment,' this idea that Titans were once human—that anyone would wish to turn all mankind into Titans … such words are blasphemy!
Our ancestors followed the royal family into these walls seeking safety. Now he claims even the walls are not safe. How can any loyal subject accept such madness?"
The nobles murmured their approval. Some nodded, grateful that someone had dared to speak their doubt aloud.
But amid the noise, a pair of bright green eyes fixed on Rod Reiss.
Eren Yeager had been silent for a long time, watching, listening, waiting.
And suddenly, as Rod stammered his excuses, the pieces clicked together in his mind.
Nii-san's story… the way he baited that reaction…
He never meant the court to believe him.
He meant to draw someone out.
Eren rose from his chair. His voice cut through the hall like a bell.
"Uncle Rod!"
The room froze.
Rod's words died in his throat. " … What?"
Eren's innocent tone carried across the echoing chamber. "Uncle Rod, you remember me, don't you? A week ago Father said he was going to your estate—to treat your children. Is Sister Frieda doing better now?"
The color drained from Rod Reiss's face.
For a heartbeat, the courtroom faded. He was no longer standing under vaulted ceilings, but back in that hidden chapel beneath the Reiss estate—the night everything ended.
That night, the candles burned low in the chapel as the family prayed in silence.His daughter Frieda, serene and radiant, had just finished leading the hymn when the door creaked open.
A man in a brown coat stepped inside—a civilian from Shiganshina District.
"Your Majesty," the man said, bowing low, his voice shaking. "Please… help us. My wife, my child—our homes have fallen to the Titans. I beg you, use the power of the Founder to drive them away!"
Frieda Reiss met his desperate eyes and slowly shook her head.
"I cannot. The fall of the wall was orchestrated by outsiders. Their goal is to lure me out, to steal the Founder's power. If the Founding Titan leaves this place, all our people will face annihilation."
The man's hands tightened on the scalpel he carried. "Then we simply wait for death?"
"That is our atonement," Frieda replied gently but firmly. "We Eldians sinned against the world long ago. Bearing the world's hatred is the punishment of our bloodline."
"But those who suffer now," the man cried, "they know nothing of that sin! Must the innocent pay for the guilty?"
Frieda turned her back. "Ignorance is mercy. To die without knowing the truth … that is peace."
She motioned to her father and siblings to follow her toward the stairs.
"Then I have no choice," whispered the man.
He pressed the scalpel into his palm. Blood spilled.
Rod remembered the sound—the sickening snap as the man's body expanded, bones tearing through flesh. Steam filled the chapel.
A Titan.
An enormous, bestial figure with fur down its arms and a chilling, intelligent gaze.
Frieda had stood her ground, radiant and fearless. "The Founder commands you!" she cried, her voice ringing through the chamber. "Obey me!"
But the Titan didn't kneel.
It roared.
And then—it attacked.
The rest came in fragments of nightmare: the crunch of stone, Frieda's scream, children torn from his grasp, the red splash against the altar. The beast devoured Frieda whole, crushing her spine between its teeth.
When Rod came to, the chapel was silent but for dripping blood.
Every child—every servant—gone.
Only he remained, crawling through the wreckage.
He remembered turning back once, through tears and smoke, to see the Titan's green eyes watching him.
Green eyes.
The same shade that now stared at him from the judgment stand.
Rod Reiss's knees almost gave way.
He understood now. That man—the one who came begging for help—had been Grisha Yeager.
And the boy before him—Grisha's son—was staring at him with those same cursed eyes.
The horror curdled into rage.
His father… his father killed them all. Frieda. My children. My family.
Rod's breathing turned ragged. The whispers of the courtroom faded into a dull roar in his ears. In front of him stood not an innocent child but the heir of the monster who had devoured everything he loved.
Eren tilted his head slightly, still feigning confusion. "Uncle Rod? You look pale."
Something inside Rod Reiss snapped.
He pointed at the brothers on the stand—at Eren and Zeke—and screamed, his voice hoarse with madness:
"Kill them! Kill these evil demons!"
The chamber erupted.
Guards surged forward, hands on their rifles. The nobles gasped, some crossing themselves, others rising to flee. Hange shouted for calm while Erwin stepped protectively in front of Eren, every instinct screaming that chaos was seconds away.
Zeke did not move.
He only smiled again, that same small, knowing smile. "And thus," he murmured, "the true King reveals himself."
Rod's face twisted with fury. "You planned this! You used my family's tragedy to mock the crown!"
Zachary pounded his gavel. "Lord Reiss, enough! Compose yourself!"
But Rod was beyond reason. "You fools!" he bellowed. "Do you know who he is? His father, Grisha Yeager—he murdered the royal family! He stole the Founding Titan! These two are the spawn of that traitor!"
The hall fell utterly silent.
Dozens of soldiers hesitated, their rifles half-raised, caught between orders and disbelief. Zeke lowered his head slightly, and for an instant—even through the chains—he looked almost sorrowful.
Eren's hands clenched on the table before him, knuckles white. "My father did what he had to," he said under his breath. "He fought for freedom."
"Freedom?" Rod spat. "You call slaughter freedom?"
The President rose to his feet, voice ringing with authority. "Enough! This court is not a battlefield. Lord Reiss, you will control yourself or be removed!"
But the damage was done.
The crowd's murmurs swelled again—fear, doubt, awe. The name "Yeager" spread like fire through dry grass.
And above it all, Zeke's quiet voice carried to every corner of the hall.
"See?" he said softly. "The lies we tell are nothing compared to the truths your king hides."
When the guards finally restrained Rod Reiss and dragged him from the chamber, he was still screaming—cursing the Yeagers, the Survey Corps, the world itself.
Eren watched him go, his heart heavy but his resolve unshaken.
Behind him, Erwin whispered to Hange, "Now we know. The true king within the wall… was never the man on the throne."
Hange nodded slowly. "It was the one who just lost his mind."
And high above, Zeke closed his eyes and exhaled, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips.
One more mask had Eren. One more truth, dragged into the light.