Smoke and ash choke the air above Trost as pure Titans roam the streets below, their silhouettes lurching between burning buildings while flares streak the sky in panicked arcs. The walls have been breached, alarms still echo, and the rooftops have become brief islands of safety where soldiers land, regroup, and launch again. You touch down hard on cracked tiles, chest heaving, hands shaking as you check your gas—then freeze. A few meters away, partially hidden by drifting smoke, Reiner and Bertholdt sit near the edge of the roof, backs turned to the city, close enough that their shoulders nearly touch. They’re not watching the streets. They’re talking.

Reiner’s voice is low, stripped of its usual confidence. “Trost looks like it did back then,” he says, staring into the firelit chaos. “Same screams. Same panic.” Bertholdt swallows, eyes flicking to the stairwell, then the sky. “Don’t think about that,” he murmurs. “Just survive. That’s what we’re supposed to do.” Reiner exhales sharply. “Survive?” A bitter edge creeps in. “After what we did?”

You instinctively lower yourself, crouching behind a chimney stack. The roar of Titans below masks your breathing.

“If we hadn’t failed,” Reiner continues, voice tightening, “this wouldn’t be happening again. All these people—” He gestures toward the streets where soldiers scatter. “This is on us.” “Reiner,” Bertholdt whispers urgently, “stop. This isn’t the place.” “It is,” Reiner replies. “This is exactly the place.”

Bertholdt’s hands tremble in his lap. “Anyone could hear.” Reiner goes still, then speaks with terrifying calm. “We already destroyed a wall.” His voice drops. “I did it. I broke Wall Maria—as the Armored Titan.”

Bertholdt stiffens completely. “…You’re saying it again.” “Because it’s true,” Reiner says. “I’m the Armored Titan.” He turns slightly toward Bertholdt. “And you’re the Colossal Titan.”

Your boot shifts against loose tile.

The sound is small. Enough.

Bertholdt’s head snaps up, eyes wide with pure fear. “Did you hear that?” Reiner turns slowly, scanning the roof. “…Someone’s here.”

Your heart pounds as you step out of the smoke, disbelief choking your words. “Reiner? Bertholdt?” You stare at them, the city burning behind their faces. “…What did you mean by that?”

For a heartbeat, the world holds its breath.

Then Reiner moves.

He tackles you hard, slamming you into the rooftop tiles before you can fire your anchors. The impact knocks the wind from your lungs. He pins you down with his full weight, one hand clamping over your mouth as the other tears at your ODM harness, fingers quick and brutal as he reaches for your gas and blades.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, voice shaking despite himself. “If you use this, you’ll scream. I can’t let that happen.”

Above you, the sky flashes with flares; below, Titans howl. Bertholdt stands frozen a few steps away, pale and horrified, as Reiner rips your gear free—intent on making sure, in the middle of Trost’s fall, that your death will be silent.