CHAPTER FOUR

She was standing on the balcony outside the windows. A broad wooden platform had been assembled at the end, reaching out towards the circular plaza.

The platform was a gallows.

Below, a great crowd of civilians filled the plaza to capacity. They could be seen even in the windows of the buildings enclosing the space. The air was alive with a low, thrumming excitement. Only the space in front of the district hall remained empty, in a gaping semicircle.

In the center was a Titan.

Presently it sat like a baby, with its haunches on the ground and its legs thrust out. At a glance it approximated a chubby, middle-aged man, but it was over five meters tall. Its straight hair fell around its jawline in a sort of bob. Its flattish features were marked with a melancholic look.

Of course, a Titan’s expressions signified nothing. The creatures had no capacity for thought or emotion.

All they had was their craving to feed on people.

The Titan’s neck, waist, and limbs were weighed down with dense chains that snaked off into the surrounding area. There were dozens in total. Each fed into a powerful winding mechanism, contraptions as large as a bull originally used to open and close the wall gates. Numerous stakes secured them into the cobblestones.

With the chains exerting their force from every direction, the Titan was utterly incapable of movement. Only its melancholic eyes shifted now and then, rolling up, down, right, and left.

Even then nobody tried to approach it.

It was hardly surprising. What if a few of the chains were close to breaking? What if the winding mechanisms proved faulty? What if the Titan possessed far greater strength than they had supposed?

If it did somehow break free, a civilian would have no means of fighting back.

“Forgive me… I’m sorry! I won’t do it again. Please, I promise!”

Rita turned slowly towards the voice behind her. A middle-aged man was squirming, restrained by soldiers. His greasy hair was flat on his forehead. Looking around forty and out of shape, his appearance wasn’t unlike that of the Titan below. Only the look in his eyes was different. They blazed with an abnormal intensity mixing horror and desperation.

Among the soldiers was Amanda. White-skinned, with long black hair and tapered eyes, she was younger than twenty but looked mature beyond her years. This was in stark contrast to Rita, who had childlike features with short and unruly locks of blond hair.

Amanda had been talented from the start, skilled in combat and quick-witted. But she had lacked a certain dedication and exhibited a poor attitude towards her superiors, so the Garrison had appointed Rita team leader before her. As a result, Rita was acting commander of the Garrison in Quinta District right then.

It had been half a year since she first assumed the role.

“I beg you. Please…” the man pleaded with tears in his voice.

The soldiers didn’t answer. Silently they pressed him forwards.

The man came to a stop beside Rita.

The excitement was growing in the crowd, the commotion rising in volume.

“Please. You can’t do this. I don’t want to be eaten…”

“This man…” the soldier handling the sentencing read the man’s name aloud. Holding up the document containing the charges, he took a step forwards to flank the condemned on the other side from Rita.

Naturally, the soldier was younger than her. Young enough to still be a boy. The majority of the soldiers were his age. If not for that, Rita, who wasn’t even twenty herself, could never have become the Garrison’s acting commander.

She found herself remembering a boy who’d died half a year ago.

He had been a soldier too. A valued assistant, who had held her in particular admiration.

But he was gone.

Having stumbled onto a group of thieves, he’d attempted to make an arrest, only to face resistance and have half his head unceremoniously blown away.

Rita could never let such a tragedy happen again.

That was why she needed to establish absolute order. She had to transform the way people thought. She needed to convince them all that it didn’t pay to break the law, that a pure and just life of selfless devotion was the choice route to happiness.

“…has stolen enough food, including a hunk of pork and a tub of butter, to last a family of four through a week. Moreover…” the boy soldier continued to list the man’s charges.

Considered in isolation they were perhaps trivial, yet in this man’s case the charges were particularly numerous. No matter how many times they arrested him, he ended up committing similar crimes again.

At this stage, he was beyond reprieve.

The boy soldier paused when he had finished reading the charges. He took a deep breath, then declared the sentence.

“For these crimes we hereby proceed to execute him!”

His voice had turned shrill.

“Then just kill me. I won’t ask for forgiveness, not anymore…but please kill me here, now! I beg you!”

The man began to struggle, but his hands were tied behind his back with rope, and two well-built soldiers had him firmly by the wrists and shoulders. He pitched his head left then right, but there was no one willing to meet his gaze.

“Come on…”

There were tears in his eyes, his nose was running, and saliva dribbled from his mouth.

Rita noticed a foul smell. The man had voided his bowels. The younger soldiers didn’t even try to hide their grimaces.

Rita focused on breathing through her mouth.

Lifting the man, the soldiers forced him over the railing at the end of the balcony. They followed him over and continued forwards along the wooden slats of the platform.

“How tasteless,” Amanda muttered.

“That could be construed as treason,” Rita calmly countered, still facing forwards.

She crossed the railing and strode across the platform to stand next to the soldiers. It ended just ahead of their position.

Beyond this, slightly lower down, was the Titan’s face. It was looking up, studying Rita and the others, its melancholic expression unchanged. Its lips and eyes almost seemed to be glittering in the powerful glare of the sun.

Its eyes squarely met Rita’s.

Perhaps it hated her, perhaps it did not─she couldn’t tell.

The Titan had shown up five months earlier, alone, in the vicinity of Quinta’s exterior wall. Seemingly devoid of purpose, it had been trudging through the abandoned shantytown, most of which had been razed to the ground in a bombardment. Rita and Amanda had confronted the creature with the aim of killing it. It was only blind chance that had led them to capture it alive.

They had been unable to work in chorus during the battle because Rita had lost all sense of self-composure. It hadn’t been long since the loss of her boy soldier aide, Duccio.

How could anyone have expected her to stay in control?

Shortly after the battle had begun, their respective anchors impaled the Titan’s gut and back. Wires trailed from the anchors to the winding mechanisms the pair wore.

The Titan responded with ponderous but unpredictable movements, dragging Rita and Amanda. They slammed into the hard ground and tumbled through the debris. They sustained injuries all over their bodies.

But the result, they realized, was a Titan trapped in the wires wrapped around its body.

Rita and Amanda summoned their subordinates, and they reinforced the restraints on the creature and hauled it back into Quinta.

If the angle of the anchors had been off by even a fraction, and if the Titan hadn’t been alone, the battle might have seen an altogether different end. Chances were that one of them, possibly both, would have lost their lives.

For the next month they kept the Titan confined within the Garrison premises, relatively close to the gate. They did perform experiments to learn more about Titan behavior, but since the district lacked experts, it didn’t amount to much.

The decision to move the Titan to the plaza was Rita’s.

This monster will become a symbol of order─the thought had come abruptly and without warning one day.

Rita was glad for it.

And here, right now, she would again prove the value of her idea.

She regarded the Titan below, then raised her right hand up above her head. The gaze of the crowd focused in on that single point, her hand. The low chattering had completely died away.

There was only the sound of the wind, and the gentle weeping of the man about to be executed.

He began to struggle again. He squirmed in the arms of the soldiers, frothed at the mouth, shouted incoherently. The soldiers were unperturbed. They were used to it.

Rita swung down her arm.

The soldiers at either side of the man took hold of his waist and shoulders. Hoisting him into the air, they swung him momentarily back towards the district hall before hurling him as far as they could into the plaza. At the same time, the troops next to the winding mechanisms rolled a couple of meters of slack into the Titan’s chains. The metal made a screeching noise as it was unwound.

The Titan was quick to notice its leeway.

It trembled, and its back snapped straight.

The man fell from above, pitifully flailing his arms and legs.

Its own arms granted a temporary freedom, the Titan raised one as if to make a toast, and opened its mouth. The inside was lined with rows of yellowed teeth, each the size of a human fist. A slimy tongue writhed there, and beyond was darkness.

Rita felt as though she’d glimpsed the bottom of a deep well.

With unexpected speed, the Titan snatched at the man from two sides. Its right hand grabbed the man’s head, its left his knees. In one deft movement the Titan flipped the man into a horizontal position and sank its jaw into his still-clothed buttocks.

There was a horrific cry and a gush of blood. The stones below were stained red. The spray of blood also struck the underside of the platform where Rita and the others stood, pattering like rain on a rooftop.

The next sound they heard was the crunching of bone.

The man’s desperate screams had trailed off. He must have fainted immediately.

Already finished with his rump, the Titan was on to the side of his belly. Blood and viscera spattered out. A repulsive rhythm, of the monster masticating, reached their ears.

All signs of life were gone from the man’s eyes. His body freely came apart at the middle.

The Titan lifted the upper half high into the air and supped, melancholically, at the blood and viscera dripping down. Then it tossed the portion whole into its mouth after all.

The lower half met more or less the same fate.

The plaza had fallen completely silent. But it wasn’t over yet.

He was only the first.

“Next!” the cracked voice of a soldier came from behind Rita.

She turned to face it. The soldiers at her side went back into the building. Another two appeared in their place, holding the next man and conveying him forwards.

Unlike the one before him he put up no resistance, nor begged for his life to be spared. He was perfectly at ease; if anything, his eyes seemed to betray concern for Rita. This one also had long hair, but he didn’t come across as louche. There was something of the artist about him. He looked to be in his mid-forties, and his clothes and shoes were old, but in good condition.

Henning Iglehaut.

Rita’s adoptive father. Until recently, she had believed him to be her true father.

The soldiers dragged him until he stood at the edge of the platform. Across from them, the boy soldier raised another sheet into the air. He read out Henning’s name, then began to list the charges.

“…who, in the three months leading to his arrest, facilitated the suicides of at least sixteen men and women by supplying lethal drugs…”

Rita took out a thumb-sized vial and glanced down at it. There was liquid inside, still up to the cork. A depression, wound with a long leather cord, allowed it to be worn around the neck. Henning had been selling them─vials of poison─to all who wished to take their own lives.

As an experienced apothecary, Henning had sometimes prepared drugs to put down wild dogs and other dangerous animals. Making poison capable of killing a man wouldn’t have been any more complicated.

“Why?” Rita couldn’t help but mutter.

She saw suicide as an act of denying one’s current circumstances. In other words, it was a denial of the “ordered world” she was working to build. She couldn’t tolerate anyone who promoted such behavior.

Why had Henning thought to resume his manufacture of the poison? Why did everyone have to betray her?

The moment and scene of Duccio’s shooting death resurrected itself in her mind. Blood and brain matter spilling from his skull, and, beyond, the face of her dear─her once dear─childhood friend…

The boy soldier, his voice turning shrill again, declared, “For these crimes, we hereby proceed to execute him!”

Henning turned his head and said across the soldiers, “I don’t regret what I’ve done.”

Rita gave no answer.

Undeterred, Henning added, “I believe it’s important to give people a way out, if they need it.”

Wrong. It was wrong for anyone to seek a way out. The people of Quinta needed to all come together and work towards the realization of a better world.

Rita lifted her right hand in silence.

“You’re really going through with this?” Amanda asked from behind. She had crossed the railing at some point to join them on the platform.

Rita remained silent.

Henning spoke again, his tone chiding: “You need to forgive him.” He was referring to her childhood friend, Mathias Kramer, who had shot and killed Duccio. “There has to be an explanation. It must have been an accident.”

“Immaterial.”

The soldiers were pretending not to hear, looking away from both Henning and Rita. No doubt, they did know that the two were related. That they were parent and child. Even if they weren’t related by blood, they were profoundly close.

Yet, Rita couldn’t let him go. The soldiers, who were still very young, mustn’t be allowed to think that she’d extended mercy to family.

She let her eyes drop beyond the edge of the platform. The Titan was gazing up with the same despondent look. The area around its mouth was dirty with blood and flesh. There were strands of hair on its lips. The cobblestones beneath were wet with large quantities of milky saliva and scattered with bloody chunks of meat.

The end for those who broke the law.

Titans did not devour people out of hunger. Once they were finished chewing, instead of swallowing they spat out the meat. Nobody knew why.

The Titan stirred. It made to lift its head in Rita’s direction. But the winding mechanisms had pulled the chains tight again, leaving the creature hardly able to budge. The taut links trembled a fraction, creaking ominously.

Rita looked back at Henning.

“Goodbye.”

With that, she brought her hand down.

For a moment Henning looked apprehensive. Not because he feared death itself, she knew. Rather, he feared dying and leaving Rita behind.

Then you shouldn’t have betrayed me in the first place.

The soldiers lifted Henning into the air, but somewhat hesitantly. They were ready for Rita to declare a stay of execution.

But she only watched, silent.

Making up their minds, the young soldiers awkwardly tossed Henning into the air. On cue, chains went slack all across the plaza.

With an agility that belied its preceding state, the Titan jutted out its chin and chomped down on Henning’s thighs. Wrenching him downwards with a nod, it gripped his slender frame in its freed hands. Angling its neck, it feasted on the soft belly of a human. The creature was proceeding with its meal much like before.

Henning kept his eyes on Rita until the end. His belly torn open, devoured, that was where his body snapped in two.

Rita watched it all without looking away.

***

Gabriele crouched in the shadow of the undergrowth and squinted into the dark, cocking his head to one side. Several men and women were moving around under the moonlight. There were no torches or other forms of light. They seemed to be picking fruit from the trees, grabbing carelessly; none of them looked like farmers.

Gabriele could just about make out their whispered voices.

“Hurry it up. Be done in two hours.”

“I’m kind of tired…”

“Just shape up, okay?”

The atmosphere didn’t seem particularly cordial.

Wall Maria had fallen to a Titan attack half a year earlier. As a result, mankind had been forced to abandon all territory outside of Wall Rose. While the majority of residents had evacuated towards the interior, others had, needless to say, been left stranded. Perhaps the people ahead of him belonged to that group of survivors “wandering between the walls.”

Even then, the district at Wall Maria’s westernmost point, Quinta─abandoned at one point, but with a great many people still living inside, Gabriele had heard─was within arm’s reach.

Why hadn’t they gone to ask for help? What were they doing wasting time in a place like this?

What did they hope to do if they were set upon by an “aberrant” Titan?

Had they been denied entry?

Such a thing was possible. Quinta would have limited supplies of food. Naturally, they might lack the capacity to take people in from outside.

No, wait… If that was true, why were they gathering food here, so close to the district? Was it some display against Quinta?

Titans were drawn to areas with a high population density. This was a well-known fact. If these people couldn’t get through the wall, their best chance of survival was to get as far away from the town as possible.

So─why were they still here?

Doesn’t make any sense.

The daytime heat was enough to keep one sweating, but it cooled by night. The rustling of the leaves was soothing to hear.

Gabriele continued watching. With no clouds in the sky, the moonlight provided all the brightness he needed. No one in view looked to be armed. They carried baskets and wooden boxes for the fruit they were picking, but Gabriele couldn’t make out any other possessions. None looked like they’d spent the last half-year since the fall of Wall Maria in the exterior.

Gabriele adjusted the sack slung over his back. It contained a change of clothes, some food, water, and arms. He got the feeling the group was larger than the few people he could see picking fruit up ahead. He could sense more, beyond the layers of trees. Ten, twenty, maybe more still, all busy and working.

It was a substantial gathering.

Well, watching won’t get me anywhere.

His decision made, Gabriele got to his feet and stepped into the moonlight. Making sure his footsteps were audible, he approached the group of men and women. They hadn’t looked to be armed, but he had no guarantee they wouldn’t attack if they mistook him for a wild dog or an aberrant Titan.

It always paid to be careful.

A male and female pair, both of them short, noticed his approach first. They both stopped what they were doing and turned to face him head-on, seemingly raising their guard a fraction. They were young. Gabriele had only just turned twenty himself, but they were probably around the same age.

“Who are you?” the male asked. He had sharp eyes and wore a terribly annoyed expression. There was something mocking in his attitude.

Gabriele was lanky with features that were more juvenile than not, and it often led people to mistake him for a younger man. This fellow, too, had probably decided he was a pushover.

Gabriele didn’t like it, but this wasn’t the time to pick a fight. He suppressed his irritation and accosted the pair.

“My name is Gabriele. What are you two─”

“Don’t know it. Which team?”

“Team?”

“You get separated? Or─”

“Are you thinking of making a run for it?” the woman cut in, her voice oddly cheerful.

She was short but shapely. Her face was framed in soft, lightly colored hair. She wore a barely perceptible grin that looked like it might be a permanent feature, but also had an aloof manner that was difficult to pin down.

Gabriele asked in response, “Run? Where to?” Where could you run in a world prowling with Titans?

The woman cocked her head sideways, her eyes coming to stop on his sack. “Uh…and what’s that? Where’d you get that?”

“I didn’t get it anywhere… We’re not communicating so well, are we?”

“You’re not one of the residents?” The man’s eyes were gradually widening. “You came here from outside?”

“Yeah. How should I… Well.” He wanted to hear their story first but supposed it a good idea to set them at ease. He gathered his thoughts and spoke slowly. “I’ve been out here by myself, on the run since Titans attacked my village. Every day I’ve been grabbing food from empty houses, pulling vegetables from fields. Just like you guys…” He pointed at what he guessed was an orchard. “Picking fruit and all that. ’Course, the moment I even glimpse a Titan I run as fast as I can, and I make sure I only move around at nighttime.”

The Titans were diurnal. Discounting some “aberrant” types, there was almost no chance of coming across one at night.

“Make sense?”

“Sure.”

“So, you’re all from Quinta?”

The man had been surprised to discover that Gabriele wasn’t from the district. This suggested the group was from the town. By now, the others had stopped what they were doing and begun to pay close attention to the exchange between Gabriele and the two who had seen him first.

The man with the sharp eyes said, “Yes.”

The short woman gave Gabriele an approving look. “It’s amazing you survived half a year. Out here, without even a horse.”

“Oh, I had a horse! Found a stray, guess its master had died. That was lucky. Steeds cost like you wouldn’t believe, right? But it got away this morning. I thought I was in real trouble, and then I noticed your group.”

“Even so, it’s impressive.”

This was one of the other men. He put his box on the ground and proceeded to plod over. Chubby in typical middle-aged fashion, he had long greasy hair that was tied back in a ponytail.

“I’ll bet you’ve got a good idea about the state of things outside the wall.”

“The state of things between the walls, if we’re being picky. But yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“I’m sure our guy would want to hear what the man’s got to say,” the middle-aged man with the long hair said, turning to face the other two.

“Yeah. Always bursting with curiosity, isn’t he,” the woman agreed, her tone ever casual.

The sharp-eyed man’s continued distrust was in stark contrast to this. “Who cares what he wants, but it might serve some use. Either way it’s better than letting that woman get hold of him.”

The man with the long hair nodded. “So let’s bring him in. Shouldn’t be hard, if we’ve got a runaway tonight.”

“Sorry, who’s ‘our guy’? And while we’re at it, ‘that woman’?” Gabriele asked, but no one made to speak.

They were all looking at him with appraising eyes. It wasn’t pleasant, to say the least. He tried another question.

“Why are you all outside the wall, anyway? Are things that bad inside? Have you run out of food?”

“I guess you could say it’s bad, yeah,” the man with the long hair answered vaguely.

“Yup,” the short woman shrugged, “it’s a bit complicated.”

“Sure doesn’t look straightforward with you out here…”

“Follow me, I’ll fill you in,” the sharp-eyed man said, turning on his heels without waiting for Gabriele to respond, taking his acquiescence for granted.

Gabriele overheard the short woman mumble, “Guess we’re not canvassing this time.”

He had no idea what she meant.

The short woman had volunteered to join them and puffed up her cheeks when Klaus told her he’d be fine by himself. In the end she’d been convinced to stay and carry on picking fruit with the others.

Klaus walked along briskly. The dark seemed to give him no anxiety whatsoever.

After a while they drew closer to multiple voices and figures. Here, too, they were engaged in harvesting, but in comparison to Klaus’ group their movements were sluggish. They exuded a sense of fear and panic. Constantly monitoring their surroundings, they seemed to be jumping at every little noise.

In fact, it was their behavior that was normal.

“Any runaways?” Klaus called out to a man nearby.

He left a tree where most of the fruit had been picked and shook his head. “No, not tonight. Everyone here’s married. I doubt anyone’s thinking of escaping by themselves.”

“I see, thanks.”

Klaus began to walk, keeping up the same brisk pace. Not once did he turn to look at Gabriele.

No runaways. Everyone here’s married. Did that mean they all had dependents back in Quinta? Nah, that’s not enough, I need more information.

“Hey. Didn’t you say you were going to fill me in on what’s happening?”

“Just as you see,” replied Klaus, threading doggedly between the trees, “we’re picking fruit. Some days we gather vegetables, others we go after beasts. Regardless of what we’re doing, it’s called the Night Harvest.”

“I can see that… But is it really that bad? The food supply, in Quinta,” Gabriele asked, ducking under some low-hanging fruit. “I mean it’s relatively safe at night, sure, but we know there are aberrants, and there’s always the chance you might stumble into a regular Titan. Do you really need to do this?” Another group came into view, also engaged in the so-called Night Harvest. “Putting so many people’s lives in danger? What if you were all wiped out? Food can’t compensate for that. What are the higher-ups thinking?”

Klaus suddenly stopped and turned to stare at him.

“What?” Gabriele came to a halt as well.

“So you really don’t know?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

They locked eyes under the moonlight.

Klaus snorted, then looked into the distance. “Okay, fair enough.”

“Enough drama. Just tell me.”

“You must know Wall Maria was breached?”

“Of course I do.”

Hordes of Titans had crossed into the territory between Wall Rose and Wall Maria. Gabriele had eluded many in person, somehow managing to arrive here.

Klaus nodded, then continued, “Half of Quinta’s population was evacuated to Wall Rose, but the other half didn’t make it in time. They ended up trapped inside.”

“That part I understand. But you lost half your population. That means you only need half the food supplies. Why on earth would you have to─”

“The food situation is grave. But you’re right, not so grave that we have to do this.”

Klaus started walking again.

The Night Harvest continued around them. The men and women appeared tired but in a way that seemed more mental than physical. They were all dressed differently, but none were particularly ragged. The impression they gave was that of being ordinary townsfolk.

Glancing at the Night Harvest, Klaus muttered, “This is nothing but a tool, for that woman to maintain power.”

“Really? You mentioned her before. Who the hell is ‘that woman’?”

“A Garrison soldier currently in charge of Quinta. Her name is Rita Iglehaut. She’s young, only in the position she is because all the senior officers died or made a run for it.”

“Why have you got a soldier in charge? Normally it’d be a government official.”

“They were the first to leave.”

Gabriele clucked his tongue. He couldn’t believe their cowardice. “Okay…”

“The Night Harvest is mandatory for all civilians. Shifts come in fixed intervals and include every able-bodied adult. The exception is anyone who disrupts the peace. They get a higher proportion of shifts.”

“Hence this being a tool to maintain power. To make an example of people, I see…” It made sense. “I’d been wondering why you would do something this dangerous. But it’s a calculated move. She’s forcing people to engage in a frightening task─so she can rule by terror.”

“‘Rule by terror’…” Klaus contemplated Gabriele’s phrase. “You’re right. And she’s got a particular gift for it.”

“But why go this far? Quinta’s in crisis, surely the people would listen without her having to resort to this kind of thing. Is it that unruly inside?”

“Not at all. If anything, it’s so orderly it’s freakish. She’s obsessed with keeping it that way.”

“Sounds like a good thing to me?”

“It’s a question of degree. The way it is now, not even the slightest misdemeanor is permitted. The punishment for stealing, of course, is severe, but also for cutting in line at rations, for spitting on the ground, for badmouthing the troops. And people are being encouraged to inform on others.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. It sucks.”

“I suppose that is out of whack. People must feel pretty frustrated. She uses the fear of harsh punishment to keep them in line, then.”

“I should clarify,” Klaus said, surveying the orchard and the frightened people working there, “that this is our duty. We aren’t being punished.”

“The actual punishments are much worse. Is that what you want to say?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

“Not sure I want to.”

“Right, then.” Again, Klaus stopped amongst some trees. They were positioned a fair distance from each group of harvesters. Klaus had no doubt chosen the spot so they wouldn’t be overheard. “What do you think?”

“About?”

“The current state of the town.”

“Sounds crap.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course, however you look at it, it’s crap. Why even ask?”

“Just checking.” Dropping his eyes to his feet, Klaus ran his hand over the surface of one of the trees. “What was your name?”

“Gabriele.”

“Right. Gabriele, you’ve got two paths to choose from. You could continue to the gate, explain everything to the soldiers, and ask for shelter. Do that, and that woman would be interested in hearing everything you have to say.”

“I don’t know anything important.”

“You probably know things you don’t even realize. You know about the state of things out here. That’s valuable info.”

“What’s the second path?”

“We get a lot of runaways. People who’ve had enough of all the crap, to use your term. There’ll no doubt be one or two tonight. You assume one of their identities and enter Quinta instead of them. From then on you live without a name.”

“Any advantages at all to the second path?”

Klaus used his eyes to motion around them. “You wouldn’t be sent out to do this,” he said of the Night Harvest.

“Okay, I guess that’s actually quite big.”

“And you wouldn’t need to worry for food or a place to sleep. We’ll work something out for you.”

“Why would you go that far to help me?”

“We want to know what’s up outside of town, too.”

“I just told you, I don’t know anything of use.”

“And so? Which path do you choose?” pressed Klaus.

Gabriele brought to mind their earlier exchanges. Klaus’ team had a noticeably different attitude and mood compared to the others. Come to think of it, the short and carefree woman had spoken about “canvassing” people.

“I see. I think I get it now.”

Klaus, for his part, wasn’t making any particular effort to hide what he was doing. Maybe he was testing Gabriele’s wits, his powers of observation.

If so, I should prove that I’m no fool.

“You disapprove of the status quo,” he said. “You want to mix things up a little. By force. You’re amassing comrades to that end.”

“Who knows?” Klaus declined to confirm.

A cautious fellow. Gabriele adjusted the position of his sack. “Sure, sounds fun. Count me in.”

“Meaning?”

“I choose the second path. I’ll help you out.”

“I don’t recall asking for help.”

A cautious fellow, thought Gabriele, but also a pain in the ass.

The fear seemed to thicken as it rose from the crowd. One could almost smell it. They were all returning towards the gate, each carrying heaps of fruit, each jockeying to be the first in line. Gabriele was lending a hand, helping carry Klaus’ basket, which was packed to the brim with fruit. He’d left the sack he’d had with him back in the orchard. It wasn’t as though it had contained anything of value.

Eventually the black mass of the wall came into view. Fifty meters high. Perhaps it would have been visible through the trees at night, but it had blended too well into the darkness for Gabriele to notice.

Chains held up the gate’s iron-plated door. The entrance was three meters high, another three wide. It gave way to a cave-like passageway that had a curved ceiling. Two soldiers were stationed at each flank, checking names to papers in their hands, letting the people through one by one. The gatekeepers looked considerably young. They were in their mid-teens, possibly even in their early teens.

Those who had already arrived formed a line that all but clung to the wall in the half-dark. No doubt they were trying to get as close to “the inside world” and as far from “the outside world” where the Titans roamed as they could. The behavior was pointless, but Gabriele didn’t fail to understand the sentiment behind it.

He joined the line with Klaus.

The wall next to them, built from old stone, was heavily marked. Gabriele knew that a huge number of Titans had swarmed in around it half a year ago. The scarring could have resulted from the Titans’ nails or from stray shells during a bombardment. Then again, it was possibly natural delapidation over the course of time.

A middle-aged couple stood ahead of them, while a couple of youths, probably brothers, waited behind. The others from Klaus’ team were farther back. The short and slippery woman went, it seemed, by the name of Nikki. She and Klaus appeared to be in charge of the rest of their company.

At Klaus’ bidding, Gabriele put down their basket, then wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

“You sure they won’t notice?”

“Calm down.”

“I am calm, but still.”

They hadn’t had any runaways that night, so Gabriele would take the name of someone who had passed through the gate before him. Since the name was common, the chances of being suspected were low, he’d been assured.

“The runaways you’ve had so far…” Gabriele started.

“Too loud.”

“Sorry.” Gabriele moved closer to Klaus and lowered his voice. “But really, the runaways. What happens to them?”

“I’d like to ask you the same. I’ve been in here the whole time, half a year.” Klaus indicated the wall with his eyes.

“Right. Fair enough.”

“You didn’t see any? Outside.” Klaus was asking if anyone who might be a runaway had crossed paths with Gabriele as he’d drifted in the exterior.

He shrugged. “Now and then I caught sight of people like me. Just running from one place to the next, like they had nowhere to go, it looked like. Can’t really say if they were runaways or not.”

“Right.” Klaus bent down and took hold of the basket. The line was moving again. He murmured, “I suppose most of them are dead. Eaten by Titans.”

“Probably.”

“You’re a rare example. It’s not normal for someone to last half a year.”

“I was just lucky.”

“Yeah. I can see that.”

Gabriele was already growing accustomed to Klaus’ sarcasm and antagonism. They moved forwards carried by the flow of people. Their turn came faster than expected.

Klaus went ahead and spoke to the soldiers first. He gruffly gave an unfamiliar name. Gabriele was confused for a moment but realized soon enough─Klaus, himself, had been out on a false identity. He’d given Gabriele his real name so readily, assuming “Klaus” was his real name, because he’d decided it was safe to do so.

“Proceed.”

The soldier jerked his chin towards the passageway. Klaus carried the basket for three steps, then came to a stop.

Gabriele was next to stand between the soldiers. He gave them the name Klaus had prepped him with. He was surprised at how easily it rolled off his tongue.

He’d always been a good liar.

One of the soldiers glanced at his papers then ran a finger down the list of names. He looked back up and fixed Gabriele with a weary gaze.

Gabriele felt a rush of dread. He wondered if the soldier was about to ask who he really was. But the soldier remained silent, only tutting, and dropped his eyes back to his papers.

“Hurry up then,” he said, terse, pointing beyond the gate with his chin.

Someone with the same name would have already gone through, but the soldier had apparently decided this was a mistake in the ledger. With their focus on detecting runaways, they had failed to consider the possibility of someone like Gabriele trying to gain access from outside. It was hardly surprising; Quinta hadn’t received a single visitor in the last half-year.

Feeling oddly let down, Gabriele exchanged a look with Klaus, then began to walk forwards.

The wall being close to ten meters thick at the base, it took a while to clear it. The ground was covered in stone and, with watch fires burning at regular intervals, it was considerably easier going than the outside.

Past the corridor, a broad thoroughfare led away in a straight line. Enormous brick buildings hugged the side of the wall. They looked like warehouses. Small crowds of people were gathered outside the entrances of each one.

“They used to belong to merchant associations, but the Garrison controls them now,” Klaus, having picked up on Gabriele’s interest, told him.

Taking directions from more soldiers, they carried the fruit they’d gathered into one of the warehouses. This doorway, too, was flanked with watch fires. The other buildings, probably residential, remained submerged in the penumbra. It seemed Quinta was yet to wake.

Some people broke away from the crowd and ran up to and embraced this or that basket bearer. They had to be family of the residents who had been out on the Night Harvest. Urged by the soldiers, the latter came away from their loved ones for the time being, carrying the fruit they’d gathered into the warehouse.

Gabriele and Klaus followed from behind. They climbed a low staircase and entered the building.

The ceiling was impressively high. The place was, it seemed, being used solely for storing fruit and vegetables. Gabriele’s nose prickled at the smell of the raw produce. The wooden boxes and baskets were stowed directly on the floor. There were tall shelves to either side, but these were mainly empty. They didn’t look like they’d be filled soon.

It was at least true, then, that the food situation was bad.

More soldiers had been posted by the walls inside, watchful so nobody attempted to make off with any of the food. They carried rifles with wooden stocks.

Ignoring them, Gabriele left the building with Klaus. He took a deep breath of Quinta. The air in the orchard was probably fresher, but somehow it felt more invigorating here. Perhaps it was the sense of security, the knowledge that he was protected by the wall.

“This way.”

Klaus started off down the mostly empty thoroughfare.

“We’re not waiting?”

Gabriele couldn’t see Nikki and the others. He’d been sure the rest were coming along behind them, but it looked as though he’d been wrong.

Klaus didn’t even look back. “We can’t look conspicuous. We’re going back separately.”

“Where are we going?”

There was a pause.

“Our hangout,” Klaus chose his words and answered.

It had to be their safe house, or something like it.

The temperature rose as they walked, and with it, the frequency with which they saw people out and about: a woman, probably a housewife, depositing trash in the street; an aging man probably on his way to work; and so on. Inside an eatery, a man who seemed to be its owner set about preparing for the day ahead. Gabriele saw merchants, too, carrying stock to such establishments. The food situation was doubtless bad, but Quinta’s people didn’t seem to be entirely dependent on rations.

Klaus turned a corner but stopped soon afterwards.

“Let’s take a detour.”

They returned to the avenue. After a while the view to the left opened up. There was a round, open space, some kind of plaza. It was vast. At the far side was a particularly grand building made of stone. A large wooden scaffolding covered its facade, perhaps for repairs on its outer wall.

And yet, there, in front of the scaffolding…

“What the hell is─”

“The district hall. That woman controls it now.”

“No, I mean!”

“Need me to spell it out?”

No, I suppose not.

There was no mistaking it. It couldn’t be anything else.

“Titan…”

There, in the center of the plaza, kneeled an unwashed, naked, and chubby man. Standing upright he would measure over five meters tall. Heavy chains spreading outwards in a radial pattern were wrapped around his neck, chest, belly, arms, wrists, and legs. Pulled tight and reflecting the pale morning light, the chains disappeared into machines that resembled tiny water mills. The apparatuses were bolted securely into the ground. There were twenty, maybe thirty of them in total.

A few heads short of ten soldiers, each carrying a rifle, stood around the perimeter.

“What is it doing here?” Gabriele’s voice came out in a croak.

“Apparently that woman captured it.”

Klaus was as blunt as ever. He didn’t appear the slightest bit startled. Perhaps it was only normal, but he seemed fully accustomed to the outlandish spectacle.

“When you say ‘that woman,’ you mean that woman? The Garrison soldier.”

“Yes.”

“When did she…catch it?”

“Not long after Quinta’s isolation. Less than a month.”

“You hear stories now and then that such-and-such a place caught a Titan. Still, it’s the first time I’ve seen one for real.”

“Threw me too, first time I saw it.”

“But keeping it here…it’s dangerous. What if a child ventured too close by mistake? Say, is it on purpose? For people to vent their frustration, stoning it and that kind of thing?”

“Actually, it’s the other way around.”

“Other way? To keep them frustrated?”

“You’re getting warmer. It’s the same rationale as the Night Harvest.”

“The same…”

“Doesn’t seeing it scare you?”

The Titan hadn’t budged the whole time. A few dozen chains held it tight. It could twitch but that was all. Only its eyes moved occasionally, while steam rose from its nose and mouth. The Titans had a body temperature that was incomparably higher than a human’s.

“Of course it does. I’d be surprised to find anyone who felt fine.”

“Agreed.”

Klaus didn’t seem particularly afraid. But he wasn’t the type to lie or joke around. Maybe he was just bad at letting his emotions show.

“By putting that here─where everyone can see it─she’s making sure the people of Quinta never forget their dread of the Titans. At the same time, she’s reminding them that only the soldiers are capable of killing it.”

“I see.”

It was true─no civilians would be able to kill the Titan. Only the troops, with their training, were capable of that. They had special-purpose blades and knew how to gorge out its weak spot.

Gabriele swallowed. “So it’s to issue a threat? ‘Go against us and we’ll set the Titan free…open the gate… We’re the only ones who can protect you when that happens.’”

“Essentially. It’s crude, but effective.” Klaus turned around.

Gabriele stood there for a moment, entranced by the Titan, then hurried off after Klaus.

He decided it was true, that Rita Iglehaut─this woman who was in charge of Quinta─had a gift for intimidation. Who else would think to utilize something so horrific, so shocking and nightmarish, as a “proximate deterrent”?

They left the avenue to join a street lined on either side with private residences and two-story businesses. Many of these were brick. They continued for a while until they came upon a stone building, its entrance noticeably larger than the others, to the left. The doors had been left open. The majority of the pedestrians were drawn in through them.

Led by Klaus, Gabriele followed after them.

A roomy corridor ran straight down the center of the space, with a patchwork of vendors set up at either side. Various goods were on display, including edibles, tobacco, liquor, garments, tableware, even furniture. Most of the stalls were still in the process of getting ready, but the ones that served food were already in business. Throngs of people stood examining the various commodities. In front of a cafe of sorts were simple chairs on which sat men holding cups of tea.

“A bazaar, huh?”

Gabriele had heard there were many covered markets in Quinta, but this had to be a particularly large one.

Klaus worked his way deeper inside, skillfully navigating a path through the flow of people and the characteristic aromas of tobaccos and spices.

“Don’t get separated.”

“Uh huh…”

Gabriele nearly collided with a man pushing a cart packed with garments and hurried out of the way.

“I thought Quinta was isolated. Where’s all this stuff coming from?”

“Some of it is made in Quinta, some is what people had in stock. Some of it might be stolen goods. Half of Quinta’s population left, after all.”

“Makes sense. You can just rob an empty house…”

“You can. If you’re happy to die, that is,” jeered Klaus.

He entered an inconspicuous shop, almost buried among the other businesses, located on the right at the end of a cul de sac. Old books lay in countless piles to either side of the doorway. It seemed to be a bookstore.

The inside was long and narrow, and down the center and against both walls were tall shelves, all of them crammed with books. The air carried their telltale dry smell. Gabriele took one at random and started to browse the pages.

“I trust you’ll be careful with that, son.”

Gabriele jumped at the closeness of the voice. Next to the entrance was a book-laden desk, behind which sat an aging man in glasses.

“Do take care not to drop or tear it.”

“R-Right.”

Was he the owner? As far as bookstores were concerned, trade didn’t necessarily dwindle on account of Quinta’s isolation.

“At the end.”

Klaus strode past the shelves with unwavering steps. Gabriele peered down and saw an open corner at the back. Great numbers of books were piled directly on the floor. The impression they gave wasn’t unlike a series of leaning towers. Although they looked ready to collapse, they somehow held stable. Among them, several men and women sat in a circle on stools. A few of them he’d met outside Quinta. They’d arrived before Gabriele and Klaus, presumably while they’d been examining the odious monster in the plaza.

“Is this him?” a young man seated near the wall spoke up.

He had closely cropped hair and a stubbly beard of around the same length. His forehead, on the broad side, lent him a somehow troubled expression. He was probably Gabriele’s age. His right hand, splinted, was suspended by a piece of cloth─treatment for a broken bone. While he bore the outward resemblance of a working man, the way he carried himself hinted at refinement. Perhaps he came from a background of money or power─possibly both. Gabriele couldn’t guess what might have brought about his fall.

Klaus tutted. “Stupid question. Who else would I bring here?”

“Of course. My mistake,” the young man apologized, but didn’t seem at all piqued. He seemed inured to Klaus’ personality and attitude.

The young man looked Gabriele in the eye.

“It’s good to meet you. My name is Mathias Kramer. I happen to represent this group.”

His tone was gentle.

***

Mathias was sitting on his bed in his quarters and staring at empty space. Through the wall he could hear voices, the clinking of tableware. The guests who had arrived to offer their condolences were picking at snacks in the downstairs courtyard, making the rounds and reaffirming that they were “friends.” He could count on his hand the number who were there to genuinely mourn. He wasn’t even sure if it included his father, the deceased’s husband, Jörg Kramer. For two days the senior Kramer had been so overwhelmed with preparations for the funeral, and now with keeping the mourners company, that he hadn’t even had the time to make eye contact with his son.

Mathias was fourteen. At that age he was no longer a child, but neither was he an adult. While he had tried to be prepared, his mother’s succumbing to illness had been a powerful blow. It was as though half his soul had been carved out and crushed. He had no confidence to keep going, to stand on his own two feet from tomorrow onwards.

He lacked the will to do anything at all.

Something hard hit the window. The one that faced the street outside. Mathias wondered if he was imagining things. Then he heard it again.

He turned his head slowly towards the sound. It felt like someone else was controlling his body.

A third crack.

Something was hitting the wooden shutters.

Mathias got woozily to his feet. He still didn’t feel like he was moving of his own accord. Before he realized it he had crossed the room and opened the window, was poking his head out and peering down at the street.

Rita was looking up with concern on her face. She waved silently at Mathias. Then she started pointing at the ground. She wanted him to come down.

Mathias shook his head.

She repeated the gesture. Over and over, regardless of his protests.

Mathias pulled himself back into his quarters. He wanted to bury himself under his covers, but even that felt like too much of a struggle. Besides, Rita would only throw more stones at his window. It would be easier, he somehow decided then, to go out than to keep declining his friend’s call. He went downstairs and headed towards the front door.

The guests showed no signs of noticing him.

He took the door to the street and found Rita waiting for him right outside.

“Let’s take a walk,” she suggested, a bit anxiously.

Mathias shook his head one more time.

Looking more decisive, Rita stepped forwards, reached out her arm, and seized him by the wrist. She started to walk, pulling him with her.

It was embarrassing to have a girl his own age tug him along like this. It felt like everyone around them was staring.

Before he knew it they were close to a bazaar. The eaves of the various businesses formed a ceiling above them.

“Where are you…” taking me? he started to ask, but the answer came to him before he’d finished. Rita didn’t have anywhere specific that she wanted to go. Her only purpose had been to get him out, to walk along with him like this.

They took a number of corners before coming out to a tiny open space with various shops around it. They passed before an ironmongers, then a soap makers. All the products on display were coated with a thick layer of dust.

“I lost my parents too,” her confession came abruptly.

Mathias was puzzled. The gentle apothecary Henning. The spirited Doris. As far as he knew, her parents were alive and well.

He stopped. “What do you mean? Has something happened?” His hand came away from hers.

Rita stopped too, then turned around. “My current mother and father…aren’t related to me by blood.”

The area was quiet. There were no passersby or shop owners in sight.

“Why not?”

“My real mother, who gave birth to me…was in the Survey Corps. She died during one of her expeditions. My real father had trouble coping, so my current…sorry, I know this is confusing. He took some poison that Henning made. He killed himself.”

“Sorry, wait… Henning? Poison?”

“Yes.”

Rita looked away, focusing instead on the storefront of a bookshop that Mathias had visited a number of times. There was an old chair with a gray cat curled up on it.

“There were a lot of people in town who found life hard, who didn’t want to keep going. I think there still are. My father used to put together a remedy that helped them die without pain. Without ever telling the royal government.”

“But that’s…”

If such a thing came to light, he was guaranteed the death penalty. Mathias doubted it was for the money. Henning must have believed that he was helping his clients.

Mathias didn’t know what to say in response.

He could have brushed aside any straightforward attempts to comfort him. But this was something else.

“Don’t worry,” Rita spoke again. “He doesn’t make it anymore.”

“How long have you known this?”

“I only found out recently. Dad told me himself…and also that he’d given it without knowing my real father had a daughter.”

“You mean the poison?”

“The poison. He only found out about me after my father was dead, and deeply regretted what he’d done. He stopped making the poison and started raising me, as my new father.”

“Do you remember any of this?”

Rita shook her head. “Not really. It was so long ago. I think my memories of my real parents are all mixed up with my memories of Henning and Doris.”

“But why tell you now? I mean, Henning could have kept it from you, if you didn’t remember.”

“I feel the same. And I think Mom…Doris, was against the idea. But he told me anyway, in secret.”

“So Doris doesn’t know─that you know.”

“Probably not.”

The cat yawned under Rita’s gaze.

“Dad told me he didn’t expect me to forgive him. My reserve corps exams were coming up. He said if I got through, I’d be able to leave home and never return if I didn’t want to.”

“But!”

Mathias’ voice came out louder than expected. The cat pricked its ears.

Rita’s expression was gentle as she shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that, of course. Forgiving him isn’t even an issue. He’s my father now, and he’s important to me. I’m grateful to him. If anything, it’s my real father whom I can’t forgive.”

“Wha?”

“I didn’t want him to choose death. It was selfish of him.”

“Yes…”

It finally dawned on him─the reason why Rita had goaded him to come out. She hadn’t wanted to console him, nor had she wanted to cheer him up. She had wanted to tell him off, as his friend, for shutting her out and sulking by himself.

Gathered on the bookstore’s rooftop, Mathias and the other leaders gazed across the lines of buildings stretching away. A cloth tarp pitched above them kept the piercing rays of the sun at bay. A constant breeze blew up from the river, rendering the location sufferable even at midday.

White smoke climbed towards the sky from all across town. The residents were preparing their meals. The food supply might have been limited, but Quinta’s people still needed to eat, and anyone who assisted the Garrison received extra rations as a reward.

“That didn’t lead to much,” Klaus muttered wearily, perched on the edge of the roof.

He was an outlaw, one of a few Mathias had enlisted to help him escape Fuerth and travel back to Quinta. Short of stature, ill-natured, he had daggers for eyes. Ever since their first meeting, he had treated Mathias with disdain and never bothered to hide his misgivings. Yet Klaus was still with him, making common cause and even beginning to show a certain amount of trust.

“You mean Gabriele?” Mathias asked, still standing.

“Yeah. He didn’t know anything of use. Just spent the whole time racing from one place to the next.”

“I suppose.”

Mathias recalled their conversation from downstairs, earlier that morning. They had asked Gabriele about the exterior: about the other districts and villages, and whether he’d seen anything unusual or come across anybody who had the big picture.

Gabriele had sat himself among the mountains of stacked books and done little more than pout and whine.

“How should I know about the other districts? If I’d known how, I’d have gone to one ages ago. I didn’t know my left from my right when that guy there picked me up. Klaus, I mean. And the other villages… Wiped out, all of them. Hardly surprising, eh? I came across a few survivors like me, but they were all on edge. It’s a constant scramble, for food.”

He’d even wanted to know why they were bothering to ask questions in the first place.

“If you really want to know, why not go look yourselves? You can get out.”

To this Mathias had said, “True, we could use the Night Harvest, but there’s a limit to the amount of ground we can cover before dawn. We can’t move during daytime, not without a horse.”

“Right, I guess it’d be over if a Titan spotted you.”

“Exactly.”

“Why do you have to do all the investigating, anyway? Surely it’s the job of the officials. Them, or the military.”

“I believe Klaus already mentioned this. The situation in Quinta is far from normal.”

“A dictatorship, as they say. And what was it again…‘reign of terror’?” Nikki tested her new vocabulary.

Like Klaus, she had belonged to the band of outlaws. While it was a little hard to gauge what she was thinking─mostly she looked as though she wasn’t thinking at all─she had the ability, during critical moments, to keep a cool head and make the right decisions. She was also a master at picking locks and highly proficient with firearms.

Mathias spoke to “the young man from outside,” Gabriele.

“Rita─the person currently ruling over Quinta─has lost all interest in the outside world. She won’t send an envoy to the interior, nor will she survey the immediate vicinity. She simply runs the town as she sees fit.”

And it was all because of him.

Half a year ago, enlisting a band of criminals on the condition that he’d hand over the precious artworks hidden in the courtyard of his family mansion, Mathias had left the refuge of Fuerth to return to Quinta. Yet on arrival, as they were getting ready to cart out the various items, they had been spotted by soldiers on patrol.

Rita had been among them.

Rita…

She was Mathias’ childhood friend, the very person he had come back for, the reason he had decided to cross the exterior and put himself in danger.

Now she ruled Quinta.

It was there at the mansion that the accident occurred. Mathias’ gun fired. One of Rita’s subordinates, a boy soldier, died, his head blown away. With nothing else to do Mathias fled the scene. He had never intended to kill the young boy, but that would mean nothing to Rita. Her transformation, and the current state of Quinta it had brought about, was all his fault.

This, at least, was how he saw it. Nikki said he was being overly self-conscious, but he couldn’t shake the guilt.

It was the reason he’d founded the resistance movement. He couldn’t look the other way. He had a duty to restore the town to more normal conditions.

He was fortunate in that he had a good many friends and acquaintances in Quinta. And many were dissatisfied with the current state of affairs.

The number of sympathizers had grown with each passing day, so that now over a hundred civilians were clandestine comrades. They worked together to canvass new members, united in the cause of bringing down Rita’s regime.

It would be fastest to persuade Rita in person, but Mathias was sure she despised him with all her heart. He was a wanted criminal, and the posters on display across Quinta were marked “Dead or Alive.” The moment he showed his face, far from talking any sense into her, he would be cut to pieces by blades designed to fell Titans.

Gabriele nodded, looking satisfied with Mathias’ explanation. “So I’ve heard. And this woman is pretty young?” He’d been fanning his collar the entire time they’d been inside the bookstore, sending puffs of air into his clothes. He appeared to be from a village with a climate cooler than Quinta’s.

“She is,” Mathias admitted. “Under normal circumstances the royal government would never permit…a rank-and-file soldier’s dictatorship. But the government hasn’t sent anyone our way. We have no idea what’s going on. And we have no means to convey our predicament.”

“They’ve probably given up on you. Either that, or the interior districts have their hands full.”

“And that’s what we wanna find out,” Nikki chimed in. She had been drinking ever since she’d arrived. She acted as carefree as always, but it was clear to Mathias that she drank more now than half a year ago. He was sure that, in her own way, she felt the same daily pressures and anxieties.

Mathias spoke to Gabriele again. “We did manage to send someone out, just once, and on horseback, to convey our situation. To the nearest interior district. But we’ve had no response.”

“This person hasn’t returned?”

“That’s right.”

“When are you talking about?”

“It was almost three months ago. Right when the Night Harvest first started.”

“And you’re sure this person didn’t just settle on the other side? I mean, life in an interior town would be better than, you know, this?”

“He’s not that kind of person.”

The man who’d left for Fuerth, the next district towards the interior, was Jarratt. He was an enormous, muscle-bound old man, and he, too, had been part of Klaus and Nikki’s band of outlaws.

“Perhaps we should move on to our reports, now?”

The voice of the bookstore’s owner, Derek, pulled Mathias back to the present. He was a friend of Suzanne, Mathias’ home tutor and one of their family servants. Mathias had often visited the store─the bookstore that stood beneath them now─when he was younger to buy certain books at her behest.

It was Derek whom Mathias had approached when he’d first formed the idea of setting up a resistance. While he’d only done so in the belief that Derek would at least not betray him, the aging proprietor turned out to have a great number of trustworthy friends─more specifically, friends who were “bibliophiles, anti-establishment by nature” who welcomed a resistance movement against the regime.

“Not that I have anything worth reporting, of course,” Derek conceded.

“Nor do I,” said Klaus.

“How’s Bernhardt holding up?” Nikki asked Amanda, the fifth member of the resistance leadership in attendance.

She was the only one they had on the inside. Though she served as Rita’s deputy, apparently they were the same rank. She was attractive, cold, and the one who had broken Mathias’ arm four months earlier.

Early that morning, Mathias had been on his way to a meeting when Garrison soldiers had spotted him. They’d given chase, and he’d been cornered into a back alley. When he’d tried to resist arrest, Amanda had blithely snapped his arm. Yet, just as he thought he would be taken in, events took a surprising turn.

Confirming that she had no subordinates nearby, Amanda put her mouth up to his ear and told him she wanted to join the resistance.

Mathias of course feigned ignorance. She had just broken his best arm. The pain was excruciating, he’d come out in an oily sweat, and he had tears in his eyes. He doubted another man would have extended his trust under such circumstances.

Unruffled, and, without his asking, Amanda began to explain in great detail the state of the Garrison Regiment that controlled Quinta. That was when Mathias first learned Bernhardt was being kept alive.

Bernhardt.

He had been the outlaws’ leader, that is to say, Klaus and Nikki’s boss. After Mathias accidentally shot and killed the boy soldier in Rita’s retinue, Bernhardt alone had been captured. As a result, he had borne the full brunt of her rage.

At first he’d only been held in confinement, but since the Night Harvest began he was being sent outside solo and in handcuffs. While he’d once belonged to the Military Police Brigade, even he couldn’t take on a Titan with his hands tied. And so he followed orders, harvesting through the night and returning to Quinta at dawn.

In this way, once every few days, Rita exposed him to the greatest possible terror and humiliation. That she didn’t kill him, despite harboring such visceral resentment, probably reflected strategic thinking on her part: kept alive, he might serve to lure in Mathias and his friends.

Her thinking was spot on.

Klaus and Nikki had only joined the resistance to rescue Bern-hardt. As wanted criminals, and with no network of their own in Quinta, they couldn’t afford to shrug off Mathias’ connections and knowledge.

“Just the same.” Amanda outlined Bernhardt’s situation to everyone present. “She sends him out to gather fruit, on separate days from the others so he’s alone. Handcuffed.”

“She’s treating him like a dog,” Klaus hissed.

“Worse, no?” Amanda continued impassively. “He gets practically no food at all. He’s left to eat stuff raw when he’s out gathering.”

Nikki angled her head. “So, just vegetables and fruit?”

Amanda nodded. “I heard that he eats rats, too. Although I can’t say for sure, as we haven’t spoken in person.”

Nikki grimaced and made a retching sound.

Amanda went on some more. “I only caught a brief glimpse from the top of the wall, but he looked like he’d lost a lot of weight. You might not even recognize him even if you ran into him.”

“Can’t you do something?” Nikki asked for the umpteenth time. “You are in the Garrison and all. Be great if you sneaked him out, ey?”

“If I could do that, I would have a long time ago. I’m not in charge of him, so I can’t get close. I could put in to be reallocated, I suppose, but I’d come under suspicion. The girl doesn’t trust me all that much.”

The girl. Amanda was the only one there who referred to Rita that way.

“Then you shouldn’t try,” cautioned Mathias.

For the moment Amanda was their only contact on the inside. They couldn’t risk losing her because of some ill-conceived plan.

Amanda pinched her eyes in disgust. “You know she keeps a tighter watch on him than she does on the food and drink. It’s like he’s some kind of prize.”

It suggested how obsessed she’d become with him. That, in turn, suggested how obsessed she’d become with Mathias.

There was another powerful gust of wind. Mathias gazed out towards the wall enclosing the town. Cannons were spaced at regular intervals, with soldiers patrolling between them. Baking under the direct sunlight, they looked as miserable as one might expect.

Derek shuffled in his chair. “It would appear we have no choice, then, but to use the Night Harvest. Somebody leaves a day ahead, finds somewhere to spend the night, and contacts Bernhardt the next day. If we hand him the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment, can’t he bring his helper back over the wall as well?”

Bernhardt had been in the Military Police Brigade. He was an expert with the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment. Even with both hands tied, he wouldn’t find it a particular challenge to scale the wall with a couple of other people.

“If it was just getting through the night, maybe,” Klaus said, looking and sounding grim. “The problem is that we’d have to last the day.”

“Right,” Mathias agreed. “Even if we’re lucky and there is a harvest the day before, we’d still need to spend a full day outside. That’s when the Titans are at their most active. If one found us, we’d be eaten alive. And they’re naturally drawn to people.”

“Whole day without a horse─might be kinda tough.”

Nikki was leaning back in her chair, gazing up at the azure sky. She was right. With a horse there was at least the possibility of escape, even if a Titan did spot you. On foot, escape was all but impossible.

Amanda’s hand moved to her hip. Off duty and in plain civilian attire, she wasn’t carrying any weapons. “I can secure the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment, but a horse is pushing it.”

Nikki brought her head back forwards. “I’d be happy to go,” she offered.

“It’s a difficult decision,” Mathias said, “but if we’re doing this at all, we ought to go with people already familiar with the exterior. So Nikki, and─”

“Me, right?” Klaus turned to face them again.

“Yes. However, I can’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario. Especially since Jarratt hasn’t returned.”

He was probably dead. If the worst happened and they ended up losing Klaus and Nikki too, the resistance’s ability to fight would be significantly diminished.

“What if we practice using it a little?”

Amanda frowned at Nikki’s proposal. “Practice using what?”

“The Vertical Maneuvering Equipment. We’d be taking it with us either way, right? To give to Bernhardt. If we learned how to use it, we might be able to get away even if a Titan did find us during the day. We could go up the wall, go up a big tree.”

“You can’t use the wall. The soldiers would definitely see you during the daytime.”

Amanda knew every route the soldiers patrolled, along with the times of their shifts.

Derek modestly stated his own objection. “If you were seen they would shore up their guard, even supposing you weren’t caught. We would lose all hope of rescuing Bernhardt.”

“Plus,” Amanda added, “it’s extremely difficult for an amateur to hit a tree. You’d need three months of practice at least.”

“Oh well, that’s a shame,” Nikki buckled and made a show of looking dejected.

Mathias got to his feet and said, “Let’s wait and see just a little longer. Maybe something will change in the way they’re guarding him.”

“What if he dies in the meantime?” Klaus demanded. In other words, the more time they took, the greater the chances were of Bernhardt wasting away and expiring or becoming feed for a Titan.

“We need to hurry, of course. We do, but we want as many people on our side as possible if we’re to take some concrete form of action.”

“Right, canvassing.” Klaus made a derisory snort. “You’re sure that’s not our main goal these days?”

“I’m sure.”

The goal was to end Rita’s stampede.

Try as he might, Mathias was unable to forget it.

***

The first was the instant of Duccio’s murder. His head being blown apart, his body rising into the air, his falling slowly backwards.

Try as she might, she was unable to forget it.

The second had come a few days after his death, immediately after she’d interrogated the ex-MP.

“There’s been a robbery! Close by. It…seems someone from your family was there when it happened, acting commander.”

The moment the soldier finished his report, Rita raced out of the dungeon. She shot through the daylight streets─at full speed, using the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment. She must have reached the crime scene in under two minutes.

She saw her immediately. Her mother, Doris, was sprawled on the ground outside a bakery cafe.

“Mom!”

Rita ran to her as though possessed. Pushing the soldier helping Doris out of the way, she pulled her mother into her arms. Doris’ face was covered in blood from her nose, itself broken and twisted. Her cheeks were swollen and one of her eyes was bruised shut. Her right leg was bent at an absurd angle.

She’d been there when the break-in had taken place. She’d tried to talk the burglar down, he had lashed out in response, and she’d snapped her leg in the fall.

“Are you okay?!”

Doris opened her eyes a fraction. She struggled to open her mouth and string words together, but it was too much.

“Don’t try to talk!”

“Acting commander. The burglar is still…”

Astoundingly, the criminal who had broken into the bakery cafe and violently attacked Doris was still holed up inside. One of the patrons had somehow managed to get Doris out.

“Just wait here, Mom.”

Rita laid Doris back down and got to her feet. She entered the bakery cafe.

It was a small shop. There was a counter directly ahead, and behind it, shelves lined with stock. Four tables along the wall on the way in provided the only seating.

The burglar, a man, looked about thirty. His overgrown hair hung down awfully straight. He had retreated to the cafe’s far-right corner, his arm around the neck of a young woman about Rita’s own age. In his free hand he held a knife.

“Let her go,” Rita commanded.

The man, covered in a repulsive amount of sweat, nevertheless appeared to be shivering. “The hell I will.”

“Just let her go,” Rita repeated.

He twitched his head in a shaking motion.

“I’m hungry. These guys are raking it in. I ain’t doin’ nothing wrong!”

“Okay, just─”

“I want food, and a horse. I’m getting the hell out of this place. I can’t live like this!”

So selfish, thought Rita. Thanks to people like him, the decent ones like Doris get hurt. Kids like Duccio end up dead.

Her arm moved, her hand moved, unconsciously.

Rita’s fingers squeezed the trigger and fired an anchor from one of the cylinders on her waist. The point ran straight through the man’s chest. She heard him groan.

The girl he’d taken hostage began to scream.

Again, Rita’s fingers moved unbidden. The Vertical Maneuvering Equipment started to wind in the anchor. It sped back terribly fast.

Without thinking Rita dropped into a crouch, planting her feet on the floor.

The man’s body leapt and sliced through the air, sailing in towards Rita along with the anchor. The young woman was knocked to the ground.

His eyes were wide with disbelief. Half-mad with the pain in his chest, he swung his knife about frantically.

Rita unsheathed one of her blades. She simultaneously flicked the lever to free the anchor from the man’s chest, averting a full-on collision. Just as the man passed before her eyes, she lifted her blade as if gliding it through the air. His throat ripped open.

Inertia sent the man tumbling into the floor even as blood fountained from his neck.

Everything felt like it was part of a dream.

“Acting commander…”

Rita realized some of her troops were standing there behind her. A crowd had formed outside the cafe, and a great number of civilians were peering through the entrance.

Until that moment, perhaps there had been a tendency among her subordinates to take her lightly. They had, in part, doubted her competence.

All that was gone. Not a fraction of uncertainty remained.

Instead, their eyes carried a look of fear. The same hue was present in the eyes of the civilians watching on at a remove.

I see, this is what I need.

If there are to be no more victims like Duccio and Doris.

Something had clicked, deep within her heart, like a lock coming undone. She heard the same sound every time the scenes replayed themselves in her mind.

***

Although she still lived in the same house, word was that she was like an empty shell.

It was only to be expected.

Her husband Henning, Rita’s father, had been executed only a few months ago on charges of selling potions to help people kill themselves. Specifically, his torso had been devoured by “the plaza Titan” as per his daughter’s directive.

Faced with such circumstances, no wife or mother could remain her former self.

Apparently, Rita and Doris no longer saw each other.

That, Mathias supposed, was true for him too.

His association with Rita’s family dated back to his childhood. He and Doris had been close, and he knew Rita was perfectly aware that he might pay her mother a visit. Quite possibly she’d assigned someone to keep an eye on the place. If he approached carelessly, there was a high risk of being arrested and dragged out before Rita.

But he needed to talk to Doris in person, even just for five minutes, even just one, and even if it meant putting himself in danger. He needed to tell her that he intended to take a stand against her daughter.

The amount of people in the streets seemed mostly unchanged from before the fall of Wall Maria. The mood, however, was far darker. The streets and alleys overflowed with an almost tangible sense of fear and suspicion.

When they were about three blocks away from Doris’ house, someone shouted, “Fire!”

Mathias and Nikki glanced at each other in silence. There indeed was an ashy smell in the air. Not long after they noticed this, the sky began to turn orange behind the rooftops of the buildings to their right. Something resembling black smoke climbed into the sky. Although fires were less frequent these days, they still broke out occasionally.

As it was relatively early, many residents were still awake. Windows overhead flung open in quick succession. People looked out with concerned faces from their front doors.

“Suits us nicely,” Nikki said without stopping. “If there are any guards, this should distract them.”

“Agreed.”

Together, they began to approach Doris’ home. The first floor had once housed Henning’s apothecary, but the business had been shuttered since his execution.

Nikki crouched in towards the front door. Out of her jacket she produced a collection of metallic rods, each a different thickness and length. She’d use her vaunted lock-picking skills to get them in quickly. Calling Doris from outside and waiting for her to react would waste too much time.

“There we go!”

In a mere twenty seconds, Nikki was back on her feet and returning her tools to her pocket.

“Impressive, as always.”

Nikki registered the praise with a satisfied chuckle.

The two of them hurried inside.

“Doris?” Mathias tried calling her name, quietly, but there was no response.

They continued in, carefully in case soldiers were waiting for them. With no source of illumination, it was almost totally dark. It didn’t matter as Mathias knew his way around even with his eyes closed.

“Doris, we’re coming in.”

They crossed the apothecary and walked behind the counter. Opening the door, Mathias placed a foot on the stairs. He ascended them without seeing them. The faint outline of things came into view as he approached the second floor. Nikki followed soundlessly after him.

“It’s Mathias. I’m sorry to barge in like this.”

After trying again he proceeded to the far end of the second-floor corridor. Not that the building was all that large.

He saw her the moment he entered the street-side kitchen and dining room.

Doris was sitting in a chair she’d placed next to the window and staring blankly through it. She had been a strong and dynamic woman─now she’d lost a lot of weight, giving her a shrunken appearance. The flames of the fire outside colored one side of her face orange and cast deep shadows, accentuating her sunken cheeks.

“Doris,” Mathias said again, his voice still subdued.

He wondered at first if she hadn’t heard. Then, slowly, at her own pace, she began to turn around. Her eyes paused when she saw him, and drew into focus.

Anxiety began to swell in Mathias’ chest. Had she lost her senses completely? He was unsure whether he ought to approach her.

But before he could decide what to do, Doris whispered, “You…came…”

Her voice had been barely louder than a mosquito, but its tone was enough to assure Mathias she was of sound mind. With his fears dispelled, he felt a flush of warmth come over him. Doris might have changed in appearance, but in essence she hadn’t one bit.

“Yes. I came.”

It was the first time they’d spoken in half a year. Only now did Mathias realize just how much he’d needed to see her. He found himself hurrying across the room. Doris, too, quickly got up from her chair. They fell into an embrace.

It felt perfectly natural.

Doris’ head only came up to Mathias’ shoulders. He’d always imagined her as a taller woman. The smell on her neck, on her hair and clothes, was one he knew well. It was similar to Rita’s, but different too. Come to think of it, the house itself carried a familiar smell, reminiscent of Rita’s. How had he failed to notice it until now?

Mathias was filled with sorrow. He took a series of deep breaths. He had to in order not to burst into tears with Nikki standing there behind him.

Right, Nikki.

Softly, carefully, as though handling a fragile object, Mathias held Doris out to arm’s length. He glanced over his shoulder, indicating with a look the outlaw-turned-comrade.

“This is Nikki. She’s a friend.”

“Okay.” Doris’ voice was still hushed, but it was firm. She looked past Mathias and made a slight bow. “You’re welcome here.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nikki reciprocated with some manners.

Doris returned her gaze to Mathias. “And, how are things?”

Mathias guessed she wasn’t inquiring after his health. “How much do you know?” he asked back.

“It’s hard to say. But I think I know most of what’s happening. I often just sit and do nothing, these days. I have friends who visit and take care of me, though, and I hear lots of gossip that way. I do get the order of things mixed up every now and then.” She glanced at the middle of the room. “Look at me, keeping you both on your feet. Take a seat. I’ll go put on some tea.”

“Thanks, but we can’t stay long.”

“Don’t be silly.” Doris crossed the room, dragging her right leg as she headed into the kitchen.

“Right, your leg!”

Mathias remembered then. Not long after Quinta got cut off, some burglar or bag-snatcher had assaulted Doris, and she’d fallen and broken her leg.

“Are you okay? Really, please─”

“Shush!”

Her voice was regaining some of its former buoyancy. Her deflated frame seemed a little larger. Mathias swapped glances with Nikki, before walking, still hesitant, up to the table.

“I’m so sorry about what happened to Henning,” he said, facing the kitchen as he pulled himself a chair and took a seat.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have reminded her of it. But he couldn’t not mention it. Mathias knew that seeing his face would have transported Doris’ thoughts back to Rita and Henning.

“Forgive me. I know condolences fall far short of what happened. I just…don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s fine. Whatever you say, nothing can change what’s done.”

“I am sorry. Really.”

“What do you have to apologize for?” Doris came back with a set of ceramic mugs and a bottle of liquor. “Sorry, seems this is all I’ve got. I assume it’ll do?”

“Fantastic!” Nikki said.

This girl’s a bonafide alcoholic, thought Mathias, but he nodded at Doris, who poured the liquor into three mugs before joining them at the table.

“I need to apologize because,” he said, getting back to the subject, “I was the one who made Rita the way she is. I killed one of her soldiers… It was an accident, but that doesn’t mean anything from her point of view.”

“I’d thought as much.”

“Sorry?”

“That it was an accident. He said the same thing, you know.” She meant Henning, of course. Doris continued, “I’m sure the accident was a part of what caused this, but it wasn’t everything. There’s this too.” She indicated her leg with her eyes. “In fact, this was probably the main cause. If I hadn’t been so stupid…well, anyway. What I’m trying to tell you is that a number of things had to come together to make Rita snap the way she did.”

Doris was holding her mug in both hands and gazing at the surface of the liquid. Mathias remembered when the four of them had gathered here to toast Rita’s admission to the Garrison Regiment.

He could no longer recall how the liquor had tasted.

“Even if what I did isn’t the sole cause…” Mathias lifted his mug. “As Rita’s friend, I want to stop her. She believes she’s building a utopia, but the way things are now is wrong whichever way you look at it.”

“Yes. I think so too.” Doris gave Nikki a quick look. “I heard that you’re building a movement?”

“Wow…you really are on top of things.”

“What are you planning to do? Specifically. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me if you can’t.”

“We’re not sure yet. But it looks like things will get a little rough.”

“Of course. Otherwise you wouldn’t be bringing people in.”

“I’ll have to stand up to Rita…I might even have to hurt her. Physically, and mentally. Of course, it’s likely I’ll be the one who gets covered in bruises.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m worried about.” Doris smiled, although the smile didn’t reach her eyes. It was a wry smile.

“Do I have your permission?” Mathias asked.

“To do what? To teach the girl a lesson?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely. It’s clear this is hard on you, too. You’d find it much easier to leave her be.”

“I still don’t know if it’s right. I’m still wavering.”

“Why?”

Doris looked up from her liquor. Mathias saw that Nikki was also staring right at him as though to ask why he was still voicing such feelings.

I know. I still lack the nerve. But…

“I wonder if it won’t make me the same as her. To hurt someone I care about, just because I happen to believe I’m right.” He knew Rita wouldn’t have executed Henning on a whim. She wasn’t simply feeding people to the Titan.

“You’re wrong,” Doris flatly contradicted. “She had influence, she had standing. From the start of all this.”

She turned to look out of the window. The fire appeared to be under control, and the sky was once again turning deep blue. Doris seemed to have noticed the change.

She left her seat, then re-emerged from the kitchen with a candle in hand, dragging her right leg.

“That wasn’t the case with you. You started with nothing. You expressed your views and people came to join you. You never forced anyone into anything. It’s completely different.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Believe in yourself.” She lifted her drink. “Just don’t do anything…” She broke off, sighing as she reconsidered her words. “To hell with it─be as reckless as you want.”

“Thank you.”

It had been worth coming here. A smile found its way to Mathias’ face.

“I think I’m getting better at that.”

“At being reckless?”

“Yes.”

He got to his feet.

Nikki snatched what was left of the bottle as they were leaving.

The first had been soon after he’d sent Jarratt to Fuerth. Wanting to bring as many people into the resistance as possible, Mathias had taken the lead and fashioned himself a false identity to venture out into the dangerous night of the ex-interior. Luckily he’d convinced a number of people to join, and ever since it had become customary within the movement to use the Night Harvest to canvass new members.

Klaus and Nikki had recently volunteered themselves, claiming it suited them better than other duties.

“This is making me nervous,” Mathias muttered, checking the condition of his right arm. The doctor had removed the splint, saying it was fully healed, but it still felt wrong somehow.

They were standing in line, watched over by young troops, who all bore a vague similarity to the boy soldier Mathias had killed. The dusk glow still lingered in the sky. Once the sun set, the gate would be hauled open, and they would be expelled from the confines of Quinta. Numerous watch fires already burned around the gate.

“Aren’t you supposed to be used to this?” Gabriele said, looking up. He was a tad shorter than Mathias, but fairly muscular, no doubt due to six months of scrambling through the exterior.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“What, you leave all the dangerous work to your lackeys?”

“I’m a lackey too. I started the resistance, that’s all.”

“Right, you’re the founder…” Gabriele folded his arms and studied Mathias.

“Although,” Mathias added, “it’s a fact that I’ve left the dangerous work to others. Precisely why I decided to come this time.”

Only a few days earlier, Gabriele had revealed some unexpected information. Although he had lost his horse just before arriving in Quinta, luckily he’d found a fissure in the face of a cliff and spent the daytime hiding inside.

A commotion had broken out among the members of the resistance.

They could leave Quinta with the Night Harvest, spend the day inside the hole, then rendezvous with Bernhardt. They could deliver the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment without braving a Titan attack.

It would be a dangerous gamble.

Mathias had given the go-ahead to the plan, even volunteering to execute it in person. He had to be the one to tell Bernhardt about the resistance and Quinta’s status quo. Derek had objected, but Mathias believed Bernhardt might refuse to cooperate if the rundown came from anyone else.

There was shouting from the front, and slowly, the gate began to open.

“Looks like we’re off.”

Prompted by Gabriele, Mathias trudged forth with the rest of the despairing civilians. There was a faint warmth as he passed by the watch fires. The dancing flames cast faint shadows of Mathias and the crowd onto the wall and the ground.

They proceeded toward the wall that parted the world of men from a world that was not theirs. By the exit, soldiers were handing out old boxes and baskets. Tonight’s destination was, once again, the abandoned orchard. The ripe fruit was easy to pluck from the trees by hand, without any special tools. Mathias and Gabriele patiently awaited their turn, then took one basket to share between them. The wicker looked splintered, broken enough to cut skin.

A woman approached from the direction of the street. She pushed her way through the people in line and pulled Mathias into a close hug.

It was Jodi. A teacher and one of the resistance’s earliest members, she was ten or so years older than Mathias but somehow still smacked of a girl.

“Be careful out there.”

She placed a hand on Mathias’ back and looked up with tears in her eyes. A convincing act? No, she seemed to mean it. Mathias felt a surge of genuine gratitude. Similar exchanges were happening around them. Husbands and wives, lovers, parents and children, all hugging and whispering.

The soldiers refrained from ordering them apart.

Jodi was dressed in baggier clothes than usual. The temperature dropped overnight and leading up to the morning, so Mathias and Gabriele wore thick overcoats as well.

Pretending to return the embrace, Mathias transferred the cloth bag hidden under her garments to the inside of his own coat. The bag contained the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment.

When his hand brushed over her hip, he couldn’t help but blush. He was glad his surroundings were dark.

The Vertical Maneuvering Equipment was made up of the wire-reeling machine, cylinders of compressed gas, and the anchors and their firing mechanism. It weighed its worth, but not so much that it couldn’t be carried in one hand. Since the system was designed to enable aerial combat, it was manufactured to be as light as possible. The blades used to slay Titans, meanwhile, were too bulky and had been left behind.

Jodi handed Mathias another package, this one the size of an adult’s forearm. Inside was a shotgun wrapped in cloth along with a belt to fix it on his leg. It wasn’t exactly the same kind as the weapon that slew Rita’s subordinate but was similar enough. It was the last thing Mathias wanted with him. At the same time, he couldn’t very well leave Quinta unarmed.

Jodi took a step back after confirming the success of the handover.

Double-checking, Mathias asked, “So, nothing’s changed?”

“Bernhardt’s scheduled for tomorrow. The same venue as tonight’s.”

They had been painstaking with their choice of day for the operation. It would all come to nothing if Bernhardt’s Night Harvest didn’t directly follow that of the residents at large. Jodi moved away, letting the crowd carry her towards the edge of the column.

“Bit plain, that one,” Gabriele commented, watching out of the corner of his eye as she left.

“She’s a good person.”

“Not my type.”

They crossed the passageway from the interior and were ejected with the rest of the civilians into the world outside.

The smell of the air changed. By now the odor of smoldering wood and the stink of putrefied corpses were long gone. Yet the air still felt as though it carried something offensive that cloyed on their hair and skin.

Under his clothes, Mathias slung his bag’s belt over his shoulder. The bag itself he swung around to the front. Gabriele was carrying the basket, which now contained the wrapped shotgun.

They kept pace with the others, who were visibly jumpy, no doubt beside themselves with fear, given that a Titan could attack them at any moment.

They reached the orchard after an hour of hiking through woodland. There they split into teams designated by the military and began the harvesting process. They were all careful not to leave too much space between themselves and the others.

Mathias and Gabriele slipped away from the ring of people, acting as though they were only going to take a leak.

Mathias stopped at the orchard’s boundary and accepted the package containing the shotgun from Gabriele. He unwrapped the weapon and studied it. He knew he’d never warm to this type of firearm. He would have preferred to entrust it to Gabriele, but the latter said he didn’t know how to use it. “You could show me,” he said airily, but Mathias hardly felt like it.

Despite his distaste, he used the belt to fix the barrel of the weapon to his right leg. His right arm was still below par, but it was his best bet if he needed to handle the thing.

He raised his head and looked around.

“Think you can find it from here?”

Before them was a grassy plain, with only the occasional tree. The terrain was bathed in faint light, and to Mathias every direction looked the same, but Gabriele responded with a firm nod.

“Yeah. Lucky the sky is clear.”

He began to walk, taking confident steps. In no time at all they reached a stream. They continued along the bank for close to two hours.

“This is it.”

Gabriele stopped and jerked his chin ahead. A sheer cliff face stood just as he had described, rising up behind a dense growth of trees. It was ten meters high at the most. From the perspective of someone used to a fifty-meter wall, it didn’t feel particularly big. The surface was cracked, yielding a gap about thirty centimeters wide.

“Wow, I see.”

Mathias advanced and put a hand against the rock near the entrance. The hard surface appeared to continue all the way inside and up to the top of the cliff itself. It was far deeper than Mathias had imagined.

They camped outside the fissure until shortly before dawn, then relieved their bladders and finally shuffled inside.

Gabriele went in first, leaving Mathias closer to the opening. Once inside it was almost impossible to move.

It took less than an hour for the discomfort to become unbearable.

“What can I say? They move quieter than you’d expect. There could be one out there right now. You could be snapped up the moment you stick your head out.”

“Right,” Mathias accepted.

While he understood this, it didn’t help alleviate his torment. At least he was able to lean into the surfaces in front and behind of him, but only a year ago, he could never have pictured himself spending half a day on his feet in such a cramped space.

The narrowness of the fissure meant they were only exposed to direct sunlight from above for a few dozen minutes. Mathias had kept his overcoat over his head for the duration and sweltered underneath. Snacking occasionally on cured meat, and feeling dizzy, somehow he managed to last until sunset.

“That should do it.”

Mathias experienced a heartfelt sense of relief when Gabriele uttered the words.

Squeezing out from the gap, he started to work the kinks from his body.

He couldn’t see any Titans. He couldn’t hear breathing or footsteps. For the second night in a row, the sky was free of clouds and the moon’s shape distinct.

“Shall we?” Mathias finally said.

“Uh huh.”

They traced their previous route in reverse, trampling over tall grass.

“What did you say this guy’s name was?”

“Bernhardt.”

“Right. You must value him, going to all this trouble.”

“I’m not sure that’s the right word.”

Without Bernhardt, Mathias would have never made it to Quinta. And yet, if they had never struck their deal, neither would he have ended up killing Rita’s subordinate.

She would never have broken─he felt that was the right word─and Quinta’s fate would have been significantly different.

Mathias couldn’t summarize his feelings for Bernhardt in a single word, but at any rate, the man was an excellent fighter.

He’d served with the Military Police Brigade. He was adept at wielding the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment and those special blades.

He could kill Titans.

“No, you’re right. He is valuable.”

“Can’t say you look like you want to see him.”

“But I do.” There was work for Bernhardt to do.

“So how do we find him?”

“We’ll have to cover as much ground as we can.” The orchard was fairly expansive, and there was always the chance of Bernhardt’s itinerary having changed during the course of the day. “If we have to we can wait near the gate at dawn and meet up with him that way.”

“Except the soldiers would see us.”

“If they do…we’ll probably have to distance ourselves from Quinta for a bit. They’ll be on alert, so it’ll be hard to get back over the wall, even with Bernhardt.”

“So worst case, we rough it out here for a few more days. Well, I’m used to that.”

Mathias remembered his excruciating day. He doubted Bernhardt would choose to go through something like that. No, Bern-hardt─at least, the Bernhardt of old─would find it simpler to “dispose of some inexperienced soldiers” and go back over the wall.

“Let’s avoid that if possible. Best to find him in the orchard, give him this…” Mathias glanced at the bag hanging from his shoulder. The jutting edges of the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment were plain to see, and there was no point in keeping it hidden under his clothes. “Then we scale the wall quietly under the cover of night.”

“Yup.”

They hurried through the nighttime forest. Wild animals howled in the distance, and the moon shone through layers of branches and bathed the ground in a soft luminescence.

Feeling strangely uneasy, Mathias looked up.

Ahead of them to the right, there between the trees, was an inexplicable patch of sheer darkness. Still walking, Mathias tried squinting his eyes.

Two glossy, circular objects were arranged in a vertical line.

At first Mathias couldn’t process what they were. Then they lunged forwards, and the concealed body was revealed under the moonlight, and everything became clear.

Titan…

The shapes had been its eyes.

It was lying on the ground with its torso twisting upwards and its head cocked to one side. It was trying to force its way between two trees.

It brought Mathias out of his trance. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

“I know!”

They broke into a run, tripping over themselves. The bag on Mathias’ shoulder was in the way, but he couldn’t just leave it. The Vertical Maneuvering Equipment was inside. Delivering it to Bernhardt was the reason, the one and only reason, he’d decided to put himself in this kind of danger.

He saw that Gabriele was ahead of him. Mathias couldn’t decide whether it was best to try to flee together or to split up.

The Titan looked sorrowful. Of course, the emotion was only surface-deep. The Titans weren’t capable of anything like sorrow.

What was clear was that it knew they were there. That was why it had been contorting itself like that, trying to squeeze through the trees. The pose and motion brought to mind a gigantic snake.

“A freaking aberrant, now?!” Gabriele spewed in complaint as he ran.

“Its movements seemed slow,” Mathias wheezed, desperately sucking in more of the nighttime air. “I think it was seven meters…but it was alone. We can make it!”

He had no actual basis for this. It was nothing more than wishful thinking.

He was shaking from the inside out.

He needed to run fast. But he couldn’t trip. If he fell, even just once, he didn’t think he could stand up again.

Gabriele was moving easily through the trees. His legs stayed clear of swollen roots, fallen trunks, and jutting rocks. He could have been running on a paved road in the middle of the day.

There was a sound like a cannon booming.

The ground shook, throwing Mathias into the air a fraction. He lurched forwards and almost toppled. Regaining his balance at the last moment, he grabbed his windmilling bag with both hands and turned to look back.

“It’s coming!”

The Titan was crawling on all fours. The crashing noise had been from its hands pounding into the ground. Its huge face, looming higher than their heads, still looked sunken in sorrow. Its brow furrowed, its teeth clamped together, it looked like it was ready to burst into tears.

Why it didn’t chase them on its feet was anyone’s guess. There was no point in trying to divine the reason behind an aberrant Titan’s behavior. All that could be said for sure was that it wanted to eat them alive.

It kept coming, its hands and knees causing the earth to shake. It was moving notably faster than Mathias or Gabriele. Yet it was, of course, much larger, and the woods were quite dense here. Time and time again the trees frustrated the Titan’s progress, the countless trunks acting as obstacles.

Its arms shooting between trees and snatching at Mathias and Gabriele, its face ever sorrowful, the Titan looked like a prisoner appealing for mercy through the bars of a cell.

In truth, Mathias and Gabriele were the ones who could use some mercy.

“Focus, damn it!” Gabriele yelled. “Gun! You’ve got a gun, right? Use it!”

Mathias remembered with a start. The accursed shotgun. The root evil. What a bitter irony that he was now dependent on it for his life. He felt around his right thigh.

No good. He wasn’t going to make it in time. He’d be Titan feed before he could pull it free and fire.

He kicked the ground as hard as he could, leaping to the left. An oversized jaw shot past the spot he’d been in only a moment earlier. Rows of teeth came together with a bone-rattling snap.

Then came the impact─the Titan’s shoulder had knocked him into the air.

“Hey?!”

The pain registered at the same moment as Gabriele’s call.

There was a second rush of pain. He’d come down and hit the earth hard. The moment he realized he was about to pass out, he experienced a sudden jolt of clarity.

I keep my eyes open or I die.

There was a tree next to him. He used the bark for support and pulled himself upright.

He felt lighter.

Why?

“Uh oh…” The bag with the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment was gone. The belt had snapped, either when he’d been thrown into the air or when he’d landed. “Where is it?!”

He quickly scanned the area around him. His vision was gradually clearing.

“There!”

Part of the bag was poking from the undergrowth. Even at a glance he could see it was covered in dirt. He prayed the contents were intact.

He summoned all his speed to race to it.

“Above you!”

Mathias looked up in response to the warning.

The Titan’s face was coming in. The gigantic mouth opened, ready to bite at him from diagonally above.

“I can’t…” die yet.

But his legs wouldn’t listen, neither halting nor swerving from their course.

He swallowed. His upper body felt like it might work.

The Titan was farther away than the last time.

Mathias’ right hand fumbled around his thigh and pulled the shotgun free. He used his left hand to set the mechanism, readying it to fire, then brought the same hand up to steady the barrel.

His whole body registered the heat of the Titan’s breath. It was strangely odorless. If anything it smelled like nature, verdant, like the grass and trees of the forest.

Mathias angled his arm upwards.

He took aim at the deep end of the cavernous opening and pulled the trigger.

There was a spark as the gunpowder detonated and cast the area in momentary daylight. Countless pellets fired from the weapon. With the recoil, it felt as though Mathias’ whole arm had exploded.

Overwhelmed by the discharge of sound and the sudden flash, this time his eyes did go dark, and his ears silent.

He staggered backwards, dropped the weapon, and tumbled onto his backside.

Gradually, his vision and hearing returned. An image began to form under the moonlight.

The skin on the Titan’s face was torn to shreds. Chunks of flesh, spattered everywhere, gushed hot steam. Without so much as moaning, the Titan ducked its vaporous head and slowly shook it side to side.

“The river!”

Gabriele was shouting. His voice sounded awfully distant. Mathias couldn’t decide if Gabriele was genuinely far away or if it was the ringing in his ears.

“The river…”

“It’s close by, I can hear it! Jump in before it gets you. You can use it to get away!”

“Ah…”

It was difficult to picture a Titan wading into water. And if the current was fast enough, the river would carry him free in no time.

“This way!”

“Okay.”

Mathias managed to get to his feet. He was surprised to note that his right arm wasn’t broken. Everything seemed to be working. He could flex his fingers without difficulty.

He began to move in the direction of Gabriele’s voice, but turned sharply around to snatch up the bag that had fallen to the ground.

The Titan continued to shake its head. The motion was slower now, less conspicuous. The steam was beginning to dissipate, too. Eyes and a nose were already coming into view. The creature’s lips, decimated just moments earlier, were also regaining their shine and suppleness.

Titans possessed extraordinary powers of regeneration.

Mathias began to run again.

The sound of his own breathing grated on him. The explosive sound of the shotgun still rang in his ears. But despite this he could make out the faint sound of running water. He had to be moving in the right direction.

He pushed his way through a leafy patch of thin branches.

The dark fell abruptly away. Mathias wondered if there had been another explosion. A silent explosion.

But no─he’d simply come out into the open.

A broad stream flowed in front of him. A tributary, he supposed, of the great river that connected the districts, it had to be thirty meters wide.

The surface reflected the night sky, and for a moment Mathias had the illusion that two moons were out.

More woodland stretched away from the bank on the far side.

The ground rumbled again. All of the trees around him began to sway.

Mathias looked back over his shoulder.

A giant, sorrowful face was encroaching into the moonlight. The rays fell on its nose, its cheeks, its jaw, its eyebrows─

Mathias jumped before he saw any more.

Wheeling his limbs in the air, he tried to hit the surface as far from the bank as he could.

He was overtaken by an almost painful cold.

Confusion. He thrashed desperately in the water, afraid of drowning. The bag was getting in the way. Yet it was the presence of the same that helped him regain his composure.

He needed to deliver it to Bernhardt.

They needed to return over the wall, together.

He could hold his breath for a while. People didn’t die so easily.

Forcing his tense body to relax, but taking firm hold of the bag, Mathias gave himself to the current.

Still underwater, he opened his eyes. Visibility was better than he’d expected. The water seemed roughly as deep as he was tall.

A multitude of bubbles escaped upwards. It felt like being inside a cloud of white vapor, the steam that erupted from a Titan’s wounds.

The current was faster than it had appeared above the surface. Mathias could feel himself being carried away like driftwood.

I can make it, the Titan won’t get to me now.

As soon as the relief hit him, he heard a loud dull sound. A sudden rush of water shoved him forwards and carried him farther downstream.

Mathias’ disorientation reached its peak.

The current swept him around to face upstream. The water was dark and cloudy. Bubbles mixed with dirt, blocking the view completely. As this began to clear…

Impossible.

…the Titan’s face appeared from inside.

Its sorrowful eyes were trained firmly on Mathias. Prone in the river, “shallow” for its huge frame, the Titan stretched its arms forwards, flattened its palms, and drove the water backwards on either side.

It closed the distance between them in a mere moment. Before Mathias knew it, the creature’s nose was there before his eyes, close enough to touch.

The Titan flexed its shoulder muscles. By the time Mathias glimpsed this, its hands were already closing in on either side. With a motion similar to when it had parted water, the Titan clamped its hands around Mathias’ torso.

He gagged from the pressure.

The Titan came up so it was free of the current from the waist upwards. Mathias was wrenched out of the river.

He tried to breathe but ended up swallowing water and retched violently. Fine particles of sand clogged up his mouth and nose. He lifted his face, his breathing ragged.

Moonlight shone over the Titan. From the drenched hair clinging to its sorrowful features water cascaded down to its shoulders.

“Ahh….” I didn’t make it. So, what, Titans can swim?

He could think of nothing more. There was no reliving of old memories. There was only the staggering awe of the sight before him.

Out of nowhere something landed on the creature’s immense shoulder.

It was about the size of a person.

No, it was a person. A man, tall and shockingly thin.

Backhanding some sort of pole, he brandished it high above his head. As he did, the Titan turned its head to look at him. The man brought the object down, stabbing it deep into the Titan’s eye.

Its head jerked backwards. A huge cloud of steam gushed out of the socket, and the hands holding Mathias dipped. He was pulled back into the river, and water rushed into his nostrils and mouth again. He shook his head and struggled, desperate for fresh air.

The Titan’s grip eased a little. Mathias squirmed, and his face just barely broke the surface. The man from before kicked off the Titan’s shoulder, took lightly to the air, and fell out of Mathias’ line of sight.

The Titan’s hands opened fully. Once again, Mathias’ head dipped back into the stream. He needed to get away but couldn’t summon the strength.

He floated to the surface and began drifting.

There was an almighty crash of water, and a huge wave rolled into him. Apparently the Titan had collapsed into the stream and was thrashing. Mathias kept sinking and resurfacing. His vision began to blur, then to turn black. He couldn’t hear anything. His senses were failing.

That man. The man just now…

He had the sense that time had passed─a second, a day, even a whole year. The world slowly regained its colors, sounds, and smells.

There was pressure around his upper body. Did the Titan have him again?

There was the sound of water, and of heavy breathing mixed with it.

The pressure and sound receded.

Then, his chest felt constricted yet again. He was being tugged at his shoulder and by the collar behind his neck.

He was hauled upward and tossed into the air; he felt the coldness of the wind, he crashed into grass and root, and he rolled over on the ground, facing up at─

“Well, well, look who we’ve got here,” a familiar voice came from above.

Mathias blinked. It seemed as though someone, most likely the man who’d launched the surprise attack on the Titan, had grabbed him and pulled him clear of the stream. Whoever he was, he was standing with his hands folded over his stomach and peering down into Mathias’ face. Water dripped from the extremities of his overgrown hair and beard.

“A coincidence indeed!”

The image came finally into focus: Bernhardt, standing in the light of the moon and grinning ferociously.

The man’s voice was the same, but his appearance was utterly transformed. It was just as Amanda had said. He was so scrawny he looked like a different person. His hair and beard were overgrown, and while he had always looked stylish, he was now wrapped in what looked like dirty rags thrown together around the waist and shoulders. And yet his skin was clean. He must have been using the Night Harvests to cleanse himself.

His wrists were locked in black, heavy-looking metal restraints. The iron rings were joined by a chain no longer than twenty centimeters. Had he launched his surprise attack on the Titan and hauled Mathias out of the tributary despite such a handicap?

He was still monstrously good then.

“My, how you’ve changed!” Bernhardt said, proffering his hand.

Mathias had been in this situation before. In the tavern, where he’d almost been killed.

Still saving my life, Mathias thought sourly.

“I didn’t expect to see you, certainly not out here. Is it visiting time?”

“Pretty much.”

This time, Mathias didn’t hesitate to take Bernhardt’s hand. His own arm felt heavy.

He let Bernhardt pull him up. In the process the bag, which he’d hugged to his side unbeknownst to himself, fell to the ground and let loose its prize. Mathias was amazed. Plunging into a stream, swept away by its current, and snatched up by a Titan, he nonetheless hadn’t let go of the bag.

Bernhardt saw it immediately. “A-ha!” he said, sounding delighted. “More than just a visit it seems.”

“I thought I’d bring a gift.”

Mathias released Bernhardt’s hand and bent down to the ground. He held up the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment, soaked and covered in dirt, for Bernhardt to see.

The outlaw’s eyes stretched wide. “I would expect no less from the scion of a merchant association. You understand a prisoner’s wants and needs.”

“I’m no such thing, not anymore.”

“So it seems!”

Bernhardt examined Mathias from head to toe, then laughed with genuine pleasure.

It was true that Mathias’ appearance had changed drastically. His hair was shorter, his cheeks were covered in stubble, and he wore clothes that were spartan to the extreme. For the last six months, if only for the most part as a practical measure to evade Rita’s pursuit, he had led an austere life.

“Here.”

Mathias held out the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment. Bern-hardt took it with such loving care it could have been a newborn child. He stroked its casing.

Behind him was the tributary, its surface covered in a blanket of steam. It was as though the water had vaporized. The Titan lay supine in it, tossing, turning, drawing away. The damage to its face was already partially healed, but whenever it tried to stand the current robbed it of its foothold.

There was something comical about the scene, although Mathias wouldn’t have seen it that way had the creature been even ten meters closer.

“Hey, are you okay?!”

Gabriele jumped into sight, parting his way through the undergrowth. He took in Mathias and Bernhardt in turn, then blinked rapidly.

Bernhardt raised an eyebrow and gave Mathias an inquiring look. “Who is this character?”

How best to describe Gabriele? “A new friend. He helped get me this far.”

“A-ha.”

“He’s familiar with the situation outside.”

“Come on, old man, get a move on!”

“Hm.” With deft movements Bernhardt unfastened the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment’s belt and slung it around his waist. “He does have a point. I recommend we find somewhere else to chat.”

“Oh. So you’re the guy…” Gabriele finally seemed to realize that the man standing before him was the entire reason they were out here in the first place.

Bernhardt gave a satisfied smile and made quick work of donning the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment. The levers that fired the anchors and controlled the wires were normally placed on either side of the waist, but Bernhardt had opted to put them both on his left. This was no doubt so he could operate them simultaneously even with his restraints.

“Can’t you get them off?” Mathias asked, glancing at them.

Bernhardt gave him a dreary look and held up his arms and gave the chain a rattle. “I did try a few times, but these need more than rocks to break them. No, I’m afraid they need the attention of a professional─a blacksmith, or a weapon maker.”

“Right…”

“But that’s by the by. There’s a place I’d like to show you. Follow me.”

With that, Bernhardt took point and started to walk.

It was an abandoned settlement. There were no corpses, and no signs that there had ever been any. The residents must have evacuated as soon as they’d heard of Wall Maria’s fate.

“Not too shabby, right?”

Bernhardt led them to an open space, the settlement’s square. There, a single chair was set up next to a well.

“If you’d allow me a moment.”

Bernhardt entered a nearby hut and came back out with two similar chairs.

He had something else tucked under his arm.

The restraints were still locked to his wrists. Earlier, the three of them together had tried to get them off, but to no avail.

“Can I help?” Mathias offered.

“No no, you’re guests here.” Bernhardt arranged the chairs around the well, sat on the rightmost, the one that had been there first, and held aloft the other object. It was a bottle, half-full with some kind of liquid. “Booze. The inhabitants here were a considerate bunch. They took the trouble of leaving this behind for me.” He popped the cork and took a mouthful.

Translated, he’d appropriated it from one of the empty houses, but Mathias decided not to object.

Bernhardt offered them the bottle. “How about some?”

“No, thank you.” Mathias shook his head, still standing. He needed to stay sharp. “We are outside the wall, you realize?”

“A wise decision.”

“Me, I’ll have some.”

Plonking himself down next to Bernhardt, Gabriele took the bottle and held it to his mouth. He took a few noisy swigs, then wiped the dregs with his sleeve and let out a satisfied sigh, all of it rather theatrically. Mathias shook his head, appalled, then took the seat on the far left.

It was quiet.

Mathias leaned back into his chair and saw the blue-tinged night sky spread out above them. He was nearly lulled into thinking the spot peaceful and secure.

Offering back the bottle to Bernhardt, Gabriele said, “You’re a fun guy, old man. You’ve got more fire than most people inside the wall.”

They had completed their introductions on the way. Gabriele, for his part, appeared genuinely dazzled by the skill Bernhardt had displayed in ridding them of the Titan.

Bernhardt took the bottle. “Not so! Just look at me. I trust you are aware of my present circumstances?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

“Once every three days or so, I am sent out on the Night Harvest. The soldiers tell me to return with a full crate. Alas, I find it hard to muster the enthusiasm.” He let his eyes drop to the bottle in his hands. “I like to slack off, much as we’re doing right now. As a result they punish me, and I never see anything of food. I haven’t a flicker of fire left in me.”

“Yeah, right!” Gabriele snorted, cracking up. “I doubt you’d be up to blinding Titans if that was true.”

“Just good luck, my friend. Besides, I’m a kind-natured soul.” Bernhardt put on a broad smile, watching Mathias as he passed the bottle back to Gabriele. “I find myself oddly capable when I need to aid the needy.”

“Is that kind-natured or more like, I don’t know, weird?”

The two of them seemed to get along preternaturally well. Perhaps it was because they were both thorough optimists.

And I’m the opposite, thoroughly sullen, Mathias derided himself. Even so, he couldn’t refrain from posing the question.

“Do you hold it against me?”

“You’re not asking me, are you?” Bernhardt affected astonishment, stretching his eyes wide open.

“Of course I am. Who else?”

“Why should I hold anything against you?”

“Because I left you behind. Fled without you.”

Amidst a downpour, Mathias and Nikki had fled the mansion by themselves. As a result Rita had arrested Bernhardt and put him in confinement. He had been forced to spend the last three months venturing out on the Night Harvest, alone and with his hands in chains.

Bernhardt brought those hands together over his stomach and leaned back in his chair. “Have you been feeling tormented? Utterly ridiculous. How so naive!”

“But─”

“This I can say for sure. I would have done the same, had I been in your position.”

“That’s─”

“Neither here nor there? Not at all. It’s exactly the same. You see, I’m very good at standing in other people’s shoes. I understand your reasons, as I understand Nikki’s.”

Mathias recalled the trip from Fuerth to Quinta. Did a soul capable of standing in other people’s shoes take lives so casually? Bernhardt had done just that to the unfortunate soldiers in charge of them.

“Anyway, what brings you here, Mathias? I doubt you came all this way to have this discussion. Cut to the chase!”

“Right. You’re right.” There was no point in arguing the matter with someone who insisted that he didn’t bear a grudge. Mathias asked him, “How much do you know about Quinta’s current affairs?”

“Let’s say I’m not without a clue.”

“Weren’t you being kept by yourself?” Gabriele questioned, surprised.

“I chat with the guards on watch duty. So, no, I’m not completely isolated from events.”

“Then I can summarize.” Mathias explained how Rita was in charge of the district, how she was trying to maintain independence from the royal government, how an extreme surveillance society had been instituted, how “the plaza Titan” served to eliminate rebellious elements, and so on. He then described the current status of the resistance movement.

“I see. I’m a little concerned to hear Jarratt hasn’t returned.”

“Yes, me too.” Bernhardt’s former henchman, a muscular old man, Jarratt had left three months earlier with the aim of conveying Quinta’s situation to Fuerth, but had yet to return. “He’s not the kind of person to leave his friends to die, I take it?”

“No, he isn’t.” Bernhardt got up and looked in turn at Mathias and Gabriele. “I see your situation. Now, what exactly is it you would like me to do?”

“I have a request.” Mathias took a breath, exhaled, then swallowed. Better to just come out with it. “I want you to slay the plaza Titan.”

“What for?” Bernhardt’s expression was unchanged.

“The Titan is a symbol of control and terror. By removing it we can instill some courage in people. We can create the circumstances necessary for a massive uprising.”

“Why not ask this insider you spoke of? She would be privy to the security layout. It shouldn’t be too difficult to kill a five-meter-class in restraints.”

“The real problem is the soldiers. They guard the plaza in large numbers, all of them with firearms. Amanda… She says she doesn’t want to be shot at. She won’t do it.”

“I can’t say I fail to understand the sentiment,” Bernhardt said, chuckling mischievously. “So you want me to do it, despite it being so dangerous?”

“Yes. There isn’t anyone else.”

“It’s a lot to ask.”

“I know. But for you, it wouldn’t be impossible.”

“Old man, you’re tough, right? Why not give it a shot? This guy’s tramped all this way in person just to see you,” Gabriele goaded, then pointed his chin at the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment. “That can get you back inside, yeah? Sounds like a good deal to me.”

“True enough. But he said it himself, just a moment earlier.” Glancing at Mathias, Bernhardt stretched his legs out and perched them on the edge of the well. “All in all, he’s the one to blame for my current situation.”

Hadn’t he said just now that he’d have done the same in Mathias’ position?

“Man…” Gabriele took yet another swig from the bottle. His eyes already showing signs of inebriation, he hiccupped and shoved it back. “You’re pettier than you seem, assigning blame. This guy’s pretty much begging for your help. Can’t you oblige him? I mean, aren’t you pissed off at those bastards yourself for how they’ve treated you?”

“Oh, excuse me.”

Bernhardt held the bottle up and peered into the base. It was already empty. He tossed it into the well, and a splashing sound echoed from its depths. Apparently, it hadn’t run dry yet.

“Your logic’s a bit haphazard, but I like it. The gusto of it.”

“Bloody cheek,” Gabriele said, glowering.

Bernhardt broke into a grin, watching the younger man side-on. “Interesting. Mathias, you appear to have netted quite a character for this resistance of yours.”

“So it seems.”

Bernhardt was going to agree to do it. Mathias wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. Maybe it was Gabriele’s passionate outburst. If so, Mathias couldn’t thank him enough.

“I accept.”

Bernhardt swung his feet down from the well and got up. He tapped his fingers over the Vertical Maneuvering Equipment’s rewinding apparatus, its anchors, and its levers.

“The plan is to fell the regime’s symbol, the Titan, in plain sight of the masses. Most compelling.” He winked theatrically in Gabriele’s direction. “And your friend is right. I am angry, quite angry indeed. At all those bastards.”

“That’s more like it!” Gabriele got up too, but he was visibly swaying. He put a hand on the well for support and swiveled his chin towards the hut behind them. “Mind if I grab a few more?”

“We’re going,” Mathias told him.