The laughter from the beach had faded into a comfortable silence, broken only by the rhythmic crashing of waves. Levi sat on a piece of driftwood, his eyes like steel as they tracked Ken's every movement. Hange was leaning forward, her usual manic energy replaced by a sharp, calculating curiosity.
"Alright, 'Ken,'" Levi started, his voice a low rasp. "The food was good. The carriage is... impossible. But here's the reality: this island is a graveyard. How does a kid like you, dressed in clothes we've never seen, survive against Titans? You don't have ODM gear. You don't even have a horse."
Hange nodded, her glasses reflecting the blue of Ken's eyes. "And the carriage? It appeared out of thin air. Your 'tricks' aren't just tricks, are they? Who are you really?"
Ken felt the weight of their gaze. He looked over at Eren, who was watching intently. If he said too much, the Founding Titan's connection to the Paths might flare up, alerting the future version of Eren—the one Ken wasn't ready to face yet.
I need a moment, Ken thought.
He tapped the side of his Digital Book. [Authority: Chronos Erasure — 60 Seconds.]
The world snapped into grayscale. A seagull froze mid-flight above the water. Levi's scowl was locked in place. The sound of the ocean died.
Ken stood up and paced the silent sand. I can't tell them I'm a God. Not yet. But I can't let Sasha die on that airship. I can't let Eren lose himself to the rumbling. To save Sasha, I need to change the technology of this entire era. If they have better armor, the bullet won't kill her. If they have better weapons, they won't be so desperate.
He reached into the "code" of his book, pulling data from various sci-fi and historical manga. He synthesized a new blueprint: Steel-Reflection Weave. It was a light, flexible body armor that could disperse the kinetic energy of a Marleyan rifle bullet.
"This is the start," Ken whispered. He manifested a physical, leather-bound book titled The Codex of Iron & Fire and placed it on the sand where Hange could reach it.
He then visualized the "Thunder Spears" Hange would eventually invent, but he added a "glitch"—he infused the design with Mini-Rocket propulsion, making them faster and more explosive.
"Okay. Time back."
He snapped his fingers. The world rushed back in a blur of color and sound.
"I survived," Ken said, his smile returning, "because I know things you haven't discovered yet. You want to know my skill? Watch."
Ken suddenly blurred. He moved with a speed that made Levi's eyes widen. He didn't use gas; he used pure Physical Erasure, deleting the distance between himself and a nearby palm tree. In a flash, he drew his short blade, and the tree was sliced into perfect, thin discs before he even seemed to move.
"That's how I fight," Ken said, sheathing the blade. "But I'm not just a fighter. I'm a builder."
He reached into his carriage and pulled out a small, metallic tube—the prototype Mini-Rocket. "Hange, I think you'll appreciate this. It's like your cannons, but small enough to fit on your arm. It can pierce even the thickest hide."
Hange scrambled toward the device, her eyes practically glowing. "It... it has its own propulsion? Ken, this is revolutionary!"
Ken then handed her the Codex. "And this? This is for the scouts. It contains the secret to a new type of armor. It won't make you invincible—you'll still feel the bruise, maybe break a rib—but it will stop a bullet. It'll keep your heart beating when it should have stopped."
Ken looked at Sasha, who was nibbling on a leftover piece of bread, unaware that he had just rewritten her destiny.
"I want to help you reach the next island," Ken said, his blue eyes meeting Levi's. "But more than that, I want to make sure all of you are still alive to see what's on it."
Levi looked at the book, then at the Mini-Rocket, and finally at Ken. "You're a strange brat. But if that armor works... you've got a place in this unit."
"It'll work," Ken promised. "I'm the one writing the script now."