Roger counted how long he'd been in prison.
Two days.
During those two days, people came to see him often.
Nelly Quick. Levi. Mikasa.
They were all worried about his situation and wanted to know what he planned to do next.
But Roger only smiled and said he had no plan—telling them to keep waiting, that there was nothing to say.
It wasn't comforting at all. If anything, hearing that only made them more uneasy.
Even so, Roger warned them again and again: they absolutely must not clash with anyone inside the Walls.
Before the real battle began, he didn't want a single Eldian to die—because later on, those people would all become his combat resources.
Everyone was a part of the world's source, so everyone mattered.
Only by uniting all Eldians would it be possible to keep fighting Dior.
After he explained all of that in full, they finally understood. They stopped being impatient and, at last, settled down.
Still, deep down, they couldn't shake a faint sense of unease. They had no idea what kind of upheaval the future would bring, so they kept preparing in earnest.
Roger felt that was a good thing, so he didn't stop them.
While Roger was in prison, one more person appeared—someone whose visit genuinely surprised him.
That person was Armin.
When Armin arrived, Roger was washing up.
He saw Roger—almost like a girl—tying up his hair and combing it into perfect order.
Armin didn't look surprised at all. Instead, he wore a thoughtful, contemplative expression.
Roger didn't pay him much mind, because Armin didn't seem like the type of ruthless heavyweight to him.
Even in Eren's memories, Roger couldn't find anything about Armin being exceptionally powerful or fearsome.
But there was one thing: he was extremely smart.
If Armin discovered the truth before Roger's plan started, that might actually be a good thing.
Because the plan Roger intended to carry out—while it looked bizarre on the surface, even terrifying—was, in reality, a tangible good for the people inside the Walls.
It was just that the public inside the Walls wasn't ready for it. If you tried to explain it to them by force, it would sound like pure fantasy.
Even now, Roger only dared to tell these things to the people he considered closest to him.
Aliens were coming to occupy your planet and steal the source of your world's power… no matter how you said it, it sounded like a bedtime story for children.
Roger knew that even if he explained it in complete detail, step by step, the public would never accept it.
They would only think Roger was brushing them off—pretending to work for them while actually doing whatever he wanted.
Roger understood the people inside the Walls better than anyone.
Now Armin was here.
Roger didn't know what Armin's true purpose was, but maybe he could fully grasp Roger's real intentions—
And then go back and convey them to the people.
If the public agreed to become Titans, then the next part of the plan would become much easier.
So in prison, no matter what Armin asked, Roger answered honestly.
He didn't even make Armin guess—he laid out every thought he had.
Just as expected, even sharp-minded Armin found Roger's plan hard to believe.
Armin believed there were many nations beyond the Walls, but he didn't believe there were aliens coming to take the world's "source energy." To him, it sounded like science fiction—and he said plainly to Roger that he didn't believe it.
And since that was the case, Roger no longer had any desire to argue.
"If you still don't believe me, then try explaining where the power of the Titans comes from."
After saying that, Roger stopped talking to Armin.
He thought: if you really can't figure it out, then forget it. Nothing else matters.
Sooner or later, someone more "qualified" would come asking him why.
And by then, the Walls would have endured a massive catastrophe.
Heavy casualties were inevitable—because Roger was the only force capable of protecting the people inside the Walls.
Maybe, when that time came, people would beg him to save them—
And then, whatever he wanted to do would be entirely up to him.
Armin left looking deeply disappointed. It seemed he hadn't found the answers he wanted, and even felt Roger was just brushing him off.
But you couldn't blame him completely—who could imagine that the true truth would be such a ridiculous reality?
Another day passed. It was the third day now.
Roger hadn't expected anyone more "important" to come.
Those government officials seemed to believe Roger had nothing left to explain—his ambition was obvious for all to see.
No high-ranking government figure inside the Walls ever came to contact Roger, much less speak of negotiations, because they knew there was nothing to negotiate with Roger.
But they also had no intention of killing him.
After all, based on Moblit's report—about how Roger had snapped a hardened blade completely using the flesh at the nape—the government inside the Walls had fully realized that with human strength alone, it was impossible to kill Roger.
They didn't know why Roger was behaving so obediently, but they figured they might as well use this window—while he was cooperating—to do more, seize power firmly, and give humanity more choices, so they wouldn't be totally dominated by a monster like Roger.
Roger knew exactly what they were thinking, and he truly didn't care.
What did surprise him was someone almost completely unrelated to all of this—
A person who had barely anything to do with the conflict at all.
She was Historia.
The small girl who had once been sent to the Scorpion Corps as a "hostage."
She was petite, and her identity was still that of a Survey Corps soldier. She didn't seem to have any ulterior motive—she came purely to visit Roger.
Because back when she had been with the Scorpion Corps, Roger had cared for her with meticulous kindness, and she felt she had to repay that debt.
So she brought a bento she made herself, wanting Roger to eat a hot meal in prison.
Quite a few people from their same class had tried to stop her, urging her not to do it, but she ignored them.
She believed that even if Roger now stood opposed to the Survey Corps—no matter how much humanity rejected him—he was still someone who had once taken care of her.
And when it came to benefactors, she had always repaid kindness with kindness. Especially since, back then, Roger had treated her truly, truly well.
"If the food isn't enough, or if there's anything you want to eat, just tell me. As long as it's within my ability, I'll do my best to bring it for you."
Historia spoke as her small, pale hands busied themselves with the lunchbox. Through the iron bars, she passed Roger chopsticks and a bowl.
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