Lock's return journey from the northern coastline began at dawn, the first light brushing across the repaired surface of Wall Maria. Behind him, the temporary harbor still buzzed with activity—soldiers, engineers, and laborers working under Dina Fritz's supervision as they built the first true outpost of Paradis Island's future.
Leaving her there had been a calculated decision. It was not only a test of Dina but a responsibility she had to shoulder. As the holder of the Founding Titan's incomplete power, she alone could keep the surrounding Pure Titans at bay and ensure that construction continued without interruption. Her performance over the previous week proved that she understood this. The soldiers already spoke of her with a strange mixture of awe and respect.
But Lock had other obligations that required his immediate attention—plans that, if successful, would reshape the island's destiny.
---
Traveling alone, he moved faster than the convoy ever could. His blade harness rested lightly against his back, and the crisp northern air stung pleasantly against his cheeks. From the top of a hill, he could see steam rising in the distance—Titan steam.
"Tch… another pack."
A cluster of over a dozen Pure Titans wandered across the open plain, drawn by the faint trail he had left. Lock shifted the handle of his gear, preparing to fight if necessary.
But then Dina's lingering influence took effect.
Instead of approaching, the Titans paused, turned clumsily, and lumbered away in the opposite direction—scattering like startled deer.
Lock watched them disappear with a quiet exhale.
"Good. The path might truly become safe."
He continued southward at a steady pace.
By the time he reached the outskirts of Wall Maria, the sun hung low, painting the sky orange. Soldiers stationed on the battlements spotted him immediately through their scopes.
"Notify the gate! Captain Lock has returned!"
The Garrison soldiers outside the outer gate redirected several approaching Titans as Lock approached, guiding them away using signal flares and horses. Once the path was clear, the massive gate creaked open.
Inside, the people who had gathered along the street, expecting a convo, blinked in surprise when only a single horse galloped in.
"Only Captain Lock…?"
"Did something happen outside the wall?"
"No, look at him—he doesn't look injured."
"But where's the rest of the expedition?"
Lock pulled sharply on the reins, his horse halting at the center of the street. The murmurs died instantly. Every eye in the district seemed fixed on him, and Lock knew opportunity when he saw it.
If Paradis Island were to change, the hearts of the people must change first.
He raised his voice.
"Citizens of Paradis Island—hear me clearly!"
The echoes of his words bounced off the stone walls.
"This expedition has reached the northernmost edge of our land. And beyond it, the ocean exists exactly as the stories say—vast, endless, and real."
Silence.
Lock continued, voice firm and confident:
"And beyond that ocean… exist other lands. Other nations. Other humans. We are not alone in this world. Nor have we ever been."
The crowd erupted.
"To think… the world outside the walls—"
"There are others like us?"
"Impossible—no, Captain Lock wouldn't lie!"
Lock gave them a steady nod.
"The world is larger than you imagine. And next time an expedition departs… those of you with courage may join us. See it with your own eyes."
Then, without lingering for praise or questions, Lock urged his horse forward and began riding toward the interior.
The street was left buzzing with shock and excitement.
---
Over the next three days, Lock passed through district after district, traveling back toward the Survey Corps headquarters. And everywhere he went, he repeated the same message:
The ocean exists.
Humans exist beyond the island.
The world is vast.
Paradis Island will no longer remain in the dark.
By the time Lock reached the inner walls, the rumor had spread like wildfire. The once-isolated citizens were now envisioning a world greater than they ever believed possible. For the first time, their curiosity outweighed their fear.
This was the ideological shift Lock had been counting on.
---
When he finally reached the Survey Corps base, fatigue tugged at him—but he pushed through it. The office door opened just as Petra and Ymir were finishing a stack of reports.
They both froze.
Petra's eyes softened instantly. "You're back…"
Ymir crossed her arms, trying—and failing—to look indifferent. "Tch. Took you long enough. Not like I was worried or anything."
But her gaze remained glued to him.
Two guards at the door noticed the atmosphere and quietly closed it behind them.
Petra approached first, examining him the way she always did after a long mission—checking for wounds, exhaustion, or even the smallest hint of discomfort. When she confirmed he was physically unharmed, her shoulders relaxed.
"I'm glad you're safe. We knew the expedition was important, but…"
Her voice wavered slightly.
"We worry too."
Lock smiled faintly. "You both worked hard while I was away. Next time, you'll come with me."
Ymir's mask shattered. "Wait—really?!"
Her excitement filled the room, but Petra hesitated, brows knitting.
"Lock… there's so much to handle here in headquarters. Are you sure we should just leave?"
"It's fine," he replied calmly. "Because the headquarters will be relocating—to the coast."
The two women stiffened in shock.
"What?!" Petra exclaimed.
Ymir blinked. "We're moving the entire Corps headquarters to the shore?"
Lock simply nodded.
But before either woman could question further, Lock realized someone was missing.
"Where is Historia?" he asked.
Both Petra and Ymir stiffened again—not from surprise this time, but from unease.
Petra exchanged a glance with Ymir before answering.
"Lock… something happened."
---
The tone of her voice made Lock's chest tighten. He stepped closer, scanning their expressions.
Petra lowered her eyes.
"Historia's been acting strangely ever since you left. She disappeared from the base this morning."
Ymir added through clenched teeth:
"She left a note. Said she needed… time to think."
Lock fell silent.
Historia rarely acted impulsively. If she left without informing him, then something had deeply shaken her.
The next phase of Paradis Island's transformation was underway—but now, another issue demanded Lock's attention.
And he could already sense:
This was not something that would resolve easily.
---
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