The Capital at Dawn — The Moment Before the World Breaks
Morning did not arrive in the capital as it always had.
The fog was not merely fog — it was a boundary between two timelines:
before the truth… and after it.
The Commanders' Hall — One Day Before the Operation
They gathered around the long table.
Names heavy with history and blood: Pixis. Nile. Zackly. Armin.
And at the head — Queen Historia.
Hange stood among them, restless, as if her heart were sprinting ahead of her mind.
Sarah entered.
Her steps were steady —
but inside her chest lived the tremor that comes just before truth is exposed.
Pixis spoke first, his voice firm:
"You're certain the experiment is ready?
Tomorrow leaves no room for error."
Sarah inhaled slowly, then answered with quiet resolve:
"I didn't come this far to test.
Tomorrow… we prove."
Hange slammed her palm onto the table — not in anger, but urgency, the kind that knows history does not wait.
"At dawn tomorrow, the serum will be injected into a living Titan.
If he returns human before our eyes—
the world changes."
She turned sharply to Armin and pressed a sealed letter into his hand.
"Go. Now.
This goes to Levi and the Scout Regiment.
I want them here before the operation.
If they arrive at the very last second—so be it."
Armin nodded.
In his eyes was a single truth:
The moment had arrived.
The Scout Regiment — The Message Arrives
The letter reached Levi with brutal simplicity:
"Sarah succeeded.
At dawn, we test the truth on a living Titan.
Come immediately.
History does not wait for the hesitant."
Levi's fingers tightened around the paper.
He said nothing.
But for the first time in a month,
his eyes moved — awake.
The Next Morning — The Testing Ground
The Scouts had not yet arrived.
The sky was pale.
The wind dry.
As if rain itself had abandoned the city.
At the center of the courtyard stood the Titan —
bound by chains, breathing like a beast trapped between instinct
and a buried human memory.
Sarah stood before him, wearing her white coat —
now heavier than any armor.
Nikolo stepped close, his voice low, controlled, yet fractured:
"Sarah… you don't have to do this yourself.
The data is proven. Let someone else—"
She turned to him.
Not the gaze of a scientist holding truth —
but of a woman who had survived darkness alone
and no longer feared its shape.
"This moment cannot be shared," she said softly.
"If a new world is to be born,
the one who dreamed it must open the door."
She stepped forward.
She remembered the letter.
Levi's voice wasn't written —
but it lived between the lines.
Stand.
Something tightened in her chest —
not enough to break her,
only enough to still the world for a heartbeat.
Perhaps it was love.
Or a promise.
Or loyalty to a pain only one man had ever truly understood.
She smiled faintly —
the smile of someone who knows the world is about to change,
no matter the cost.
"No one will defeat this moment," she whispered.
"Except me."
She lifted the syringe.
Before the injection, Sarah raised her eyes to the gray sky,
as if searching for a familiar face beyond the clouds.
"Where are you, Levi…?" she whispered.
"Why are you late?"
Not a complaint.
A tremor — half longing, half dread.
Around her, breaths were held.
Walls themselves seemed to bear witness.
With Nikolo's help, she climbed the iron chains,
gripping tightly until her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
She reached the Titan's neck.
The syringe in her hand —
light as hope,
sharp as a blade.
"This is not the end," she murmured.
"This is the beginning."
The needle touched Titan flesh—
—and the world exploded.
A scream tore through the sky.
The Titan convulsed violently.
Chains screamed, strained—
—and shattered.
A shockwave ripped through the courtyard.
Sarah lost her balance.
The safety line around her waist trembled—
then snapped.
Soldiers screamed.
Historia clutched her chest.
Nikolo leapt forward, fighting the wind itself.
And Sarah—
fell.
Falling into silent emptiness,
one hand still clenched around the syringe
as if she were holding the fate of humanity itself.
Above the chaos, through fear and fracture,
a voice cut through her mind—
"Sarah!"
Was it memory?
Or the wind carrying something too late?
Time split apart.
Her body fell.
The experiment that could change the fate of humanity
slipped from her grasp.
And the sky remained empty of Levi.
The Titan's scream shattered the heavens.
Fog swallowed the ground.
The chains lay broken.
But where is Sarah?
Has the experiment succeeded?
Or was failure its price?
Will Levi arrive in time—
or has time already chosen?
One truth remains:
The next moment will never resemble the last.