The wind carried the scent of blood.

It was faint at first, beneath the sharp tang of pine sap and the sweat-soaked leather of their gear, but as the horses slowed on the incline, it grew stronger. Rank. Recent. Erwin Smith narrowed his eyes as the trees began to thin out ahead, the midmorning sunlight catching in the edges of his blond hair. The scouts behind him adjusted formation with practiced discipline, the soft clatter of hooves a rhythm only broken by the occasional distant cry of birds—or what they hoped were birds.

"Something's off," Miche said, lifting his nose to the wind. His face, usually impassive, pinched into a grimace. "They're close."

Erwin nodded once. "Fan out. Stay alert. Prepare for retreat signals. This might not be the path we expected."

They had ventured deep into Titan territory on the far side of Wall Rose, following a report of a potential village hidden within the forest edge—one that may have held surviving humans. But the deeper they pressed into the terrain, the more Erwin’s instincts twisted in his gut.

The moment they passed the treeline, hell broke loose.

The first Titan appeared in the corner of Erwin’s vision—massive, hulking, its mouth already open as it crashed through the undergrowth, swinging a tree trunk aside like a twig. Two more flanked it, emerging from the left ridge like they had been waiting. A third, taller than the rest and eerily thin, shambled toward the rear.

"Formation Delta!" Erwin barked, already pulling his horse into a hard turn. Smoke signals launched into the sky—red, then black, then green—commands for fallback and warning.

A young scout was snatched from his saddle mid-turn. Erwin didn’t catch his name—just the briefest flash of green cloak, the wide white eyes, and then the crunch.

"Shit!" Miche was already soaring through the air, blades flashing. His strike landed clean, severing one Titan’s nape before it could grab another soldier. But for each one they cut down, two more emerged.

"Fall back to the river crossing!" Erwin shouted, pointing. "If we can get across—"

A roar shattered the air, followed by the low, bone-shaking boom of something larger coming. Trees swayed violently. From the east, where the sun barely cut through the clouds, a massive shadow lumbered into view.

An Abnormal.

It was over twenty meters tall, with knotted, muscular arms that dragged along the ground and a face that looked more human than not—smiling. It charged between the scouts and their only known retreat.

They were surrounded.

"Sir!" A voice—Nanaba’s, hoarse with urgency. "They’re cutting us off! We're losing the west flank!"

The ground trembled underhoof. Horses panicked, rearing or bolting into the trees. One collapsed, its legs crushed beneath the foot of a smaller Titan that hadn’t been there seconds ago.

Erwin’s horse jerked, then whinnied—a Titan hand had swiped the air just inches from its hindquarters. He barely kept his balance, gripping the reins tightly. Dirt kicked up into his face, choking and dry. He blinked it away.

Another scout was pulled down. Then another.

Too many.

He couldn’t see the others anymore—Miche was still fighting, but barely, surrounded on all sides. Nanaba and Gelgar were driving forward toward the river, desperately trying to create an opening. But the Titans had anticipated it. The Abnormal stepped into their path and brought one massive foot down—trees exploded in splinters.

"Erwin!" someone screamed. He turned.

A boulder crashed into the ridge behind them, flung from an unseen source. The shockwave sent his horse tumbling. He was thrown.

Time slowed. The air vanished from his lungs. Sky, trees, flashing light—and then ground. Pain. Sharp and white-hot. He rolled, the cloak tangling around his legs as his gear clattered uselessly against the rocks. His vision blurred.

He couldn’t move fast enough

From his position, flat against the forest floor, Erwin looked up—past the broken trees, past the smoke curling through branches. The Abnormal’s face loomed above him, silent, watching.