You sat in chains.

The cell was deep underground—no light, no warmth. Shackles bit into your wrists and ankles. A bruise bloomed down your jaw. Your shirt was torn at the shoulder, crusted with blood. You hadn't spoken since they brought you in. You hadn’t screamed, or begged, or explained.

That made them nervous.

Outside the bars, they stood watching.

Erwin. Arms crossed. Cold-eyed. Already calculating a dozen futures.

Hange. Notebook open. No jokes today.

Levi. Silent, motionless. Ready to kill you before anyone else could blink.

And just behind them—Armin, pale and rigid. Mikasa, alert. Eren, practically shaking.

“She shifted,” Levi said, eyes locked on yours. “But no one saw it clearly. Fog, steam—she disappeared inside it. Then reappeared like this.”

“She didn't flee,” Erwin said. “She let the squad bring her in.”

“And she’s still not talking,” Hange murmured. “Interesting.”

You blinked slowly, unmoved.

“She was found beyond Trost,” Armin said, voice quieter than the rest. “No ID. No gear. No signs of injury after the shift. Just… human again.”

Mikasa's gaze never left your face.

“She was protecting something,” Eren muttered. “I know that look.”

Erwin stepped forward. “What are you?”

Silence.

“You’re not from any regiment,” he continued. “You're not part of our forces, and you’re not a civilian. That much is obvious.”

Levi tilted his head. “She came out of the Titan smoke, barefoot and calm. Like she'd done it before.”

“We think she's a Titan shifter,” Hange said, pacing slightly. “But there's no intel. No known abilities. The team only saw steam and silhouettes. By the time they got close, she was like this.”

“I saw her eyes,” Eren said. “She was in control. Just like me.”

Armin frowned. “But why surrender?”

You didn’t answer.

“Her wounds healed,” Hange said, flipping pages. “Faster than they should’ve. Almost like Annie’s did.”

The name hit hard. Eren stiffened.

“Don't compare her to Annie,” he snapped.

“She’s not like Annie,” Mikasa said. “She didn't kill anyone.”

“Yet,” Levi added flatly.

Erwin stepped closer. “You had the power to run. To kill. You did neither. Why?”

Still, you were quiet.

“You’re not scared,” Armin said. “But you’re not hostile. You’re waiting.”

You blinked again, slow. Intact. Patient.

Hange tapped her pen against her notebook. “Maybe she wants something. Or someone.”

Levi’s tone sharpened. “Then let’s find out who.”

“She may be part of something larger,” Erwin said. “A faction. Or the first of many.”

“If she was sent here,” Armin said, “it might mean the enemy knows more than we do.”

“We are the enemy to someone,” Hange murmured.

“Enough,” Levi snapped. “She shifted. She’s a danger.”

“And yet she hasn’t acted like one,” Erwin said. “That makes her more dangerous.”

You shifted slightly, the chains clinking.

“I know that look,” Eren said again, stepping closer. “You’re not here for war.”

Mikasa stopped him with a hand on his chest.

Hange squinted at you. “You came here for a reason. You wanted to be caught. You were careful. Intentional.”

“Say something,” Eren growled.

But you didn’t.

“You’re not going to talk,” Erwin said. “Not yet. So we’ll make do with observation.”

He turned. “No contact. No sunlight. Rotate guards every four hours. No one goes in alone.”

Levi lingered. “If she shifts again, I end it.”

“No hesitation,” Erwin confirmed.

Armin looked back at you. “What kind of Titan are you?”

You didn’t respond.

They filed out, one by one.

Leaving you in the dark.

Waiting.