The retreating column of horses passed through the barracks gate just as the sun had completely set. The flickering orange light of the torches dragged the battered soldiers' shadows long across the ground. No one spoke. Only a heavy silence—one that swallowed both the relief of returning alive and the grief for lost comrades—trembled through the night air, mingling with the sound of hooves. Yeager Eren tried to dismount from his saddle and realized his body wouldn't obey him. The moment his right foot touched the ground, his knee buckled. His left leg, which he tried to brace himself with, did the same. The muscles in both legs collapsed, utterly beyond his control. "[angry]Damn it…" He fell to his knees on the ground. He couldn't stand. The backlash from his Titan transformation. Every muscle in his body burned with heat, and pain shot through him as if countless tiny ruptures were happening beneath his skin. Looking down at his arm, he saw the skin peeking out from under his right sleeve was partially ulcerated, discolored a dark reddish-black. "[surprised]Eren, you—!" Connie Springer rushed over and supported Eren's shoulder. His shaved head still covered in dust and blood spatter, his face stiffened at the abnormality of Eren's body. "[scared]That arm… that's bad! You need to see the medic!" "[angry]Get Mikasa treated first… I'm fine." Eren clenched his teeth and looked ahead. Ackerman Mikasa, placed on a stretcher, was being carried into the infirmary, illuminated by the torchlight. Her pale skin was as white as paper, and the bandages on her flank had long since been dyed bright red. She wasn't moving. Only the faint rise and fall of her chest confirmed her weak breathing. That was everything to Eren. The pain of the flesh on his arm dissolving, the humiliation of his knees giving out—none of it mattered now. He had to save Mikasa. That single thought dominated his mind. Leaning on Connie's shoulder, he made it to the front of the infirmary. From inside, the sharp instructions of Senior Medic Kirstein, the hurried footsteps of his assistant, and the metallic clatter of iron instruments leaked out. Eren slumped against the corridor wall and sat down. He couldn't stand. He could do nothing but stare at the infirmary door. After a while, the door opened. Senior Medic Kirstein emerged, his white coat still wet with blood. The forty-two-year-old veteran medic had deep exhaustion etched into his rugged face, and he glanced at Eren. "[serious]The wound in her flank is deep. Her internal organs are barely unharmed, but she's lost too much blood. Tonight is critical." Eren was speechless. His throat spasmed. No voice came out. All he could manage was a single, silent nod. At the edge of his vision, his right arm trembled. He felt no pain. Before that, Mikasa's condition had seized his mind entirely, numbing all other sensations. "[gentle]…Five minutes. You can go in." The medic left those words behind and departed for the next patient. Eren stood up, practically crawling up the wall. Both legs trembled minutely, but he didn't fall. Clenching his teeth, he stepped into the infirmary, one step at a time. The sharp smell of disinfectant. The metallic stench of blood. The damp air. Mikasa lay on a bed in the corner of the room. Fresh, pure-white bandages were wrapped in multiple layers around her flank, and an IV tube was inserted into her slender arm. Her long black hair spread across the pillow, and the lashes of her closed blue eyes trembled faintly from time to time. Eren collapsed onto the floor beside the bed. He wrapped both hands around Mikasa's left hand. Her bandaged fingers were cold as ice. Due to the aftereffects of his Titan transformation, half the sensation in Eren's fingertips was gone. He couldn't accurately feel the temperature of her hand. That, more than anything, terrified him. He couldn't tell if it was warm or cold. He couldn't tell if Mikasa's hand was that of someone still alive, or someone heading toward death. With his own necrotic fingers, he couldn't even discern that much. "[whispers]Don't die…" His voice was hoarse. He moved only his mouth, repeating the same words. Don't die. Don't die. Don't die. He had sworn to become stronger for Mikasa. And yet, the rampage of his Titan form had failed to protect her. His ability, his very existence, had put Mikasa in danger. Eren pressed his forehead to the floor. The cold sensation of the stone, conversely, thrust reality upon him. He cried. Stifling his voice, he cried, his shoulders simply shaking. Tears fell to the floor, forming small stains. Anger at himself, helpless self-reproach, and the terror of possibly losing Mikasa churned his insides into a mangled mess. ——How much time had passed? Sometime past two in the morning, the infirmary door opened almost soundlessly. Eren raised his head. Standing there was Leonhart Ani. Her short golden bob glowed dully in the lamplight. Her ice-cold blue eyes stared down fixedly at Eren, who sat on the floor. She entered the room without a sound and crouched down in front of him. "[cold]I saw it in the forest." Her voice was flat. A voice devoid of any emotion, merely stating a fact. "[cold]The moment you transformed into a Titan. With these eyes, I saw it clearly." An icy needle pierced Eren's spine. He opened his mouth, desperately trying to deny it. But his hoarse voice wouldn't form words. He tried to stand, but his knees wouldn't obey; he couldn't even lift his backside off the floor. "[angry]…Wh-what are…" Expressionless, Ani pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket. She slowly opened it. On it, a draft of an accusation letter bearing the Military Police Brigade's crest was written in meticulous handwriting. "[cold]An eyewitness testimony regarding Yeager Eren's Titan transformation ability. In addition to that," Ani dropped her gaze for just a moment and read a portion of the document aloud, flatly. "[cold]A record stating that Yeager Eren and Ackerman Mikasa engaged in an inappropriate relationship multiple times within the barracks. The signatures of witnesses corroborating this are gathered here." Eren's vision warped and twisted. A row of signatures. Jean's name was there. The names of his fellow trainees were there too. It was all fabricated. But with this many signatures lined up, anyone would believe it. Ani had completely exposed their secret relationship. "…!" He reached out with a trembling hand, trying to snatch the paper. But Ani swiftly pulled it back. "[cold]This is a copy. The original is already at the Military Police Brigade headquarters." Cold. A voice like ice. There was no anger, no disgust—only pure calculation. That pierced Eren's chest more deeply than rage ever could. Ani was advancing this situation like a game of shogi or something. Eren's breathing grew ragged. He clenched his fist. His nails dug into his palm, and blood seeped out. "[cold]I'll give you a choice." Ani quietly stood up and looked down at Eren. Her shadow, cast by the lamp, covered his entire body. "[cold]Option one. At tomorrow morning's assembly, your Titan transformation ability and your secret relationship with Ackerman Mikasa will be disclosed to the entire regiment." Eren's throat constricted. His mind went blank. Disclosed to the entire regiment—if that happened, it would be the end for both of them. Mikasa's career as a soldier, Eren's very existence, everything would be completely destroyed. They would have no place left in the Survey Corps. "[cold]Option two." Ani glanced once at Mikasa on the bed. Then, she turned her cold eyes back to Eren. "[cold]You turn yourself in to the Military Police Brigade of your own will and cooperate as a test subject. If you do, I promise that Ackerman Mikasa's involvement will not be questioned at all." "…Wha—!" "[cold]If you alone disappear, Ackerman Mikasa's career will be protected. She's a strong person, yet because of you, she's standing in a dangerous place." Those words stabbed deep into the center of Eren's chest. Because of me—it's all because of me. Anger, despair, and self-reproach swirled, threatening to split his head apart. He tried to shout. But his voice was hoarse and wouldn't come out. He tried to stand. But his legs had no strength, and his knees remained rooted to the floor, immobile. "[angry]Da…mn…" He slammed his fist against the floor. It hurt. His bones creaked. The skin split and blood oozed out. But even that pain was far too small compared to the pain in his chest. Ani looked down at the scene coldly. "[cold]Your answer by dawn, before morning assembly. If I don't hear from you by then, it will be disclosed." She turned her back. As she was about to leave the room, she looked back once, glancing at the unconscious Mikasa. "[cold]She's a strong person, yet because of you, she's collapsed in a place like this." Leaving only that single remark, Ani exited the infirmary without a sound. He couldn't hear the door close, nor her footsteps. Nothing. Eren was left alone, abandoned on the infirmary floor. He looked up at the ceiling. He could vaguely see the cracked stonework. The two choices spun round and round in his head, but no matter which he chose, someone would be broken. If he disappeared, Mikasa would be protected. But that meant leaving Mikasa alone. When he asked himself if it was enough just for Mikasa to live, no answer came. The tears had already run dry. With dry eyes, he just kept staring at the ceiling. The pain throughout his body gradually returned. His arm, with its necrotic muscles, throbbed and pulsed. The feeling in his legs still hadn't returned. (How can I protect us both?) With his battered mind, he thought desperately. No answer came. Eren reached out a trembling hand and once again grasped Mikasa's bandaged hand. That hand—squeezed back, just a little. Mikasa's fingers, which should have been unconscious, faintly intertwined with Eren's. It was reflexive. But her small strength was definitely conveyed to him. Eren caught his breath. He felt as if she was telling him not to give up. That small strength in her slender fingers was the single reason that kept him from breaking completely. "[whispers]…I absolutely won't give up." He murmured in a hoarse voice and squeezed Mikasa's hand back. There was no time until dawn. Sitting on the floor, holding Mikasa's hand, Eren continued to struggle desperately with his nearly broken mind. No answer came, but he refused to stop thinking. He couldn't stop. The infirmary lamp swayed quietly. The darkness of night, showing no sign of breaking yet, pressed all its weight upon Eren alone. Only a few hours remained until morning assembly.