Morning light spilled across the top of the Wall, pale and cool, casting long shadows over stone battlements and iron fixtures. The city below was quiet, still half-asleep—but up here, duty had already begun.
Eren stood with several cadets assigned to routine checks and patrols, cloaks fluttering lightly in the wind. The Wall stretched endlessly to either side, massive and unmoving, its surface scarred by time.
"Split up," one of the supervising soldiers ordered. "Check everything."
They moved down the line.
Cannons were inspected first—barrels cleared, firing mechanisms tested, angles adjusted. Eren ran his hands along the cold metal, eyes sharp. Everything seemed normal.
Too normal.
Next came the Wall itself. Cracks—small, old ones—marked places where erosion had worn the stone. Repairs held. No new damage.
"Equipment racks are good," someone called out. "Gas canisters full."
Eren nodded, moving to the next station—then paused.
"…Connie?"
Connie Springer looked up from tightening a bolt, surprised. "Oh—hey."
Eren frowned. "You're assigned here?"
"Yeah," Connie said, rubbing the back of his head. "Scout Regiment."
Eren blinked. "Wait—you too?"
Nearby, a few other cadets glanced over, some nodding quietly.
Eren stared. "I thought—"
Connie shrugged, trying to sound casual. "After that thing you said. Back then. About not letting people die for nothing." He looked away. "Figured I should… y'know. Do something worth talking about."
He didn't say family.
Didn't say proud.
But Eren heard it anyway.
Before he could respond, hurried footsteps echoed along the Wall.
"Guys—guys!"
Sasha Braus appeared, clutching something wrapped in cloth. She grinned far too confidently.
"I found meat," she announced.
Everyone froze.
"…Meat?" someone repeated.
Sasha proudly unwrapped it just enough for the smell to hit.
Eren stiffened immediately. "Sasha. Where did you get that."
"Office," she said quickly. "It was just sitting there."
"That's worse," Eren snapped. "Meat's rationed. We're not supposed to have that!"
The others exchanged looks.
One cadet muttered, "I mean… we never get meat."
Another added, "Yeah, at least save me a piece."
"Just one bite," someone else said hopefully.
Sasha's eyes sparkled. "See? Sharing!"
Eren scowled, arms crossed. "This is serious. We're on duty."
His stomach betrayed him with a quiet growl.
He paused.
"…Tch."
After a moment, he sighed. "Fine. Just—don't make a mess. And if we get caught, this is on you."
Sasha beamed. "Yes, sir!"
She handed pieces out quickly, like a criminal distributing evidence. The mood eased—just a little. For a brief moment, they were just cadets again. Hungry. Tired. Human.
Then—
CRACK.
The sky split open.
A blinding flash of lightning tore across the air, followed by a thunderous shockwave that rattled the Wall beneath their feet.
Everyone spun toward the gate.
Steam erupted upward in a violent plume.
"No way…" someone whispered.
The Colossal Titan appeared.
Its massive, skinless form rose above the Wall, heat rolling off it in suffocating waves. The ground trembled.
Then—
BOOM.
Its foot slammed into the gate below.
Stone shattered.
Alarms screamed.
Screams echoed from the city beneath.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Shock froze them in place.
Then Eren snapped out of it.
"That's the Colossal Titan!" he shouted—and ran.
Before anyone could stop him, his ODM gear fired, cables screaming as he launched himself toward the Titan's nape. Heat blasted against his skin, breath tearing from his lungs—but he pushed through it, eyes locked.
There—back of the neck—!
The Titan released a violent burst of steam.
The pressure hit Eren like a wall, ripping him backward midair. He twisted, barely regaining control, forcing himself forward again—
And then—
The Titan vanished.
No fall.
No body.
Just steam… and empty sky.
Eren hovered there for a split second, blades raised, staring at where it had been.
"…It disappeared?" he breathed.
Below, chaos erupted—orders shouted, cannons firing blindly, soldiers scrambling.
The gate lay broken.
And whatever peace the morning had held was gone.
The world cut away from smoke and screaming—
to silence.
Alex stood alone in a narrow hidden office, buried deep within the Wall's interior. Dusty shelves lined the room from floor to ceiling, packed tight with aging books and ledgers. No windows. No insignia. Just old knowledge, sealed away.
He wore a large black hood, the fabric draping over his entire body. His hair was completely hidden. His eyes—gone beneath shadow and cloth. Only his mouth and a small part of his face were visible.
He smiled.
Not wide.
Not cruel.
Just… knowing.
In his vision, the world was different.
Six Eyes.
Layers of structure peeled apart effortlessly—walls, stone, empty space. That's how he found this place. By accident. Or maybe by instinct. Either way, it hadn't been meant for cadets.
He held the final book in his hands, flipping the last page slowly.
"…That's it?" he muttered.
The book closed with a dull thud.
He slid it back into the shelf and leaned away, hands in his pockets.
"Hm. Seems like there's nothing here about me." A pause. "Rude."
His smile softened.
"But… at least I learned the history." He glanced at the shelves again. "Even if most of it's probably fabricated already."
Governments loved clean stories. Heroes. Lies with good handwriting.
Alex exhaled—and then—
Something tore through his senses.
Lightning.
Not natural.
Huge. Violent. Wrong.
Kilometers away.
A presence so massive it distorted the air itself.
"Oh," Alex said lightly.
His smile returned.
"So it's starting already."
Before he could move, a sharp gasp came from behind him.
A kid—young, maybe an errand runner—stood frozen at beside him, eyes wide, breathing uneven.
Alex turned slowly.
"…Ah."
Space folded.
He vanished.
The air snapped loud enough to make the kid flinch.
A heartbeat later, Alex reappeared right in front of him, crouching slightly so he wouldn't loom.
"Oops," Alex said casually. "Sorry about that."
The kid nearly dropped what he was holding. "Y-you just—!"
Alex tilted his head. "Hey, quick question."
The kid swallowed.
"What… what happened here?"
The words were light—but his attention wasn't.
A kid stood frozen near the doorway, papers clutched to his chest, knees weak. His eyes were wide, jaw tight. "A… a Titan… it… it's huge… it kicked the gate! Now Titanas are be able to in!!" he stammered.
Before he could process more, Alex teleported, materializing in front of him. The sudden movement made the kid stumble backward, dropping his papers, almost falling over.
"Whoa, easy," Alex said, hands raised in mock surrender. "Sorry Again. That one's on me."
The kid barely blinked, trembling as his gaze darted outside. Through the shattered opening in the wall, he could see the hole the Colossal Titan had made—a massive, jagged breach in the stonework, smoke and debris drifting up into the sky. The Titan itself had disappeared, leaving only devastation in its wake.
Alex crouched slightly, voice calm, tone gentle. "Hey… it's okay. You're safe for now. No need to panic."
The kid's hands shook violently, eyes still glued to the broken wall.
Alex smiled faintly, leaning a bit closer but still keeping a respectful distance. "Look, nobody's hurt here— yet and nobody will. You did the right thing by staying inside. That's more than most can say. Breathe."
The kid's shoulders trembled less as he exhaled shakily, nodding. "O-okay… okay…"
Alex gave a small, playful shrug. "See? Not so bad. You can handle it. Now, let this big bro figure out what to do next."
Alex then said while looking past the wall "Kid you should go to your parents they're looking for you".
As the kid ho and said thanks
Gojo watch
So that's where we are.
He turned away, mind already racing.
Options.
1. Grab ODM gear. Fight like everyone else. Risk dying. Risk failing.
2. Use that. End it quickly. Cleanly. Invisibly.
He stood still. And looks at the direction where the kid has gone to.
One second.
Two.
Three second passed
Alex sighed.
"…Yeah. Guess that answers itself."
He pulled the hood tighter.
"No witnesses," he murmured. "Just like before."
The kid blinked. "B-before what—?"
Alex was already gone.
Not running.
Not flying.
Teleporting.
He reappeared above the battlefield, steam and screams below him. Titans moved through the streets like nightmares given flesh.
Alex hovered midair, unseen, unregistered.
His smile faded—not into anger, but focus.
"Alright," he said quietly. "Quick cleanup."
No flashy moves.
No names shouted.
Just precise motion.
A flick of his hand—
space twisted.
Titans collapsed. Heads separated cleanly. Bodies fell without understanding what killed them.
To the soldiers below, it looked like luck. Like coincidence. Like Titans dropping dead for no reason.
Alex moved through the chaos like a ghost.
Hidden.
Efficient.
Gone before anyone could look twice.
When it was done, he vanished again—leaving behind confusion, survivors… and unanswered questions.
Somewhere, far above the walls—
Alex adjusted his hood and smiled faintly.
"Still anonymous," he thought.
"Good."
And the world kept turning—
unaware of how close it had come to seeing the truth.