Year 850

Katrine awoke at the bottom of a lake.

A thousand pounds of pressure bore down on her back, pinning her into place; the inside of her skull pounded like her brain was thrashing in an attempt to escape. The floor was cold and rough, more like concrete than sand, but it smelled like a waterlogged swamp after a rainstorm. Trying to twitch her arms, she was met with heavy resistance; not seaweed. Shackles? But she couldn't breathe, her lungs filling with water, muscles screaming from the lack of oxygen. Some giant fish was going to swim along and swallow her whole, spitting out her bones to disintegrate into the sludge.

Wait. Something else, an undercurrent to the moldy, damp smell. Urine and sweat and vomit. Fear, metallic and sour.

Katrine coughed. But her chest kept spasming, trying to expel all the horrible things, and she hacked until spit, not water, pooled beneath her on the floor. The priests! One had hit the back of her head. Lucian's voice. Shuddering, she forced that memory away, twitching each finger and limb to make sure they were still there.

Steeling herself against the oncoming dizziness, Katrine opened her eyes. Foggy darkness slowly sharpened into thick metal bars facing a dimly lit hallway. A cell, it had to be — she'd been in the chapel, descending further into its bowels; had they taken her somewhere else? Was she still at the palace, or even in Mitras?

Something scratched behind her, a little hissing noise, and her hackles rose; rats, thousands of rats in this cell in the pits of hell and no one would ever know they'd eaten her alive! Skin decaying, muscles eaten, bones pulverized under the weight of the earth because pressure would never turn her into a diamond; it would turn her to dust.

Wait, Levi knows—no, he doesn't, because he was never here! Shame caused her to curl into herself, the shackles on her wrists dragging on the floor. That pill, that stupid little white pill, she'd been a fool to think it was innocuous! Did Helena know? Was this part of a plan, one she was in on?

Footsteps echoed to her left and Katrine squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face into the floor to pretend to be asleep. The footsteps grew louder but suddenly stopped; Katrine cracked open one eye. Shadows.

"Father," a voice started.

"Our guest is awake." Lucian! She shrank into herself. "Where is Kenny? He was supposed to be here by now."

Kenny, not Kenny, not that scarecrow man with the smile like an iron trap, he'd said he was coming for her, he'd known! They'd all known!

"Yes, I apologize, Father. Lord Reiss has requested his presence along with the rest of the First Interior."

Lucian made a sound of irritation. "Lord Reiss knows that after the ceremony, we perform the transformations. What could possibly be more important than the integrity of the Walls? One doesn't feed the pigs the day they're slaughtered. And now I have a rat that needs to be exterminated."

"It appears to have something to do with the family," the other man said.

"Of course, of course," Lucian said sarcastically. "All for the royal family. And I suppose it was Lord Reiss who helped himself to my serums."

"Um, yes, I meant to tell you…"

"Family matters are one thing, but Lord Reiss is well aware I am the only one who can administer the serums properly. And it isn't time yet!" Lucian's voice reached a petulant whine. "Yes, yes, I am aware of the gift bestowed upon the family. It makes them gods amongst men. But as we sacrifice for humanity, humanity must be rewarded with insight as to the mechanisms of the gods. It is our right."

"Yes, Lucian, we deserve to know," Katrine rasped.

Lucian whirled, the dark pit of his single eye boring into her. The light flickering on his face made his jowls enormous, his lips a thin line; his proportions turned monstrous. She refused to look away, even when the pit of her stomach constricted.

"She's awoken. The once-lovely Katrine, flower of the Mitras Company. You've certainly wilted."

"Lord Isaac, the murderous scientist. I aged better than you did. Why'd you change your name?"

With a wave of his hand, Lucian dismissed the other man. Quick footsteps faded down the hallway. "You changed your profession. It's not uncommon."

"You're not going to exterminate the rat yourself? You've done it before. Why are you scared now?"

Lucian's face twisted into a scowl. "That incident was merely an unfortunate accident, blown out of proportion by your hysterics. The Church has forgiven me." He clasped his hands behind his back, chin raised sanctimoniously. "However, your presence is no accident. You certainly are smarter than you look. I told the council to kill you, but no, they didn't want to make a scene. Imbeciles." His lips curled in disgust, but then widened into a grin. "But, the Sisters always grant the prayers of the penitent. Imagine my great surprise when you delivered yourself right to me!"

"I'm right where I need to be," Katrine claimed. "You and the Cult are hiding something. You knew that Titans were in the Walls. And the king on the throne's a fake. I don't know why, but there has to be a reason the Reiss family is hiding behind a figurehead." She pushed herself up, twisting to see Lucian more clearly. "And what the hell was that ceremony? Making kids do your dirty work for you? What, do you strangle them if they don't do what you say?"

Lucian stiffened, but then sighed. "It always pains me to hear heathens refer to us as a cult. You'd hold your tongue if you really knew what the Church did to protect you."

"I cracked your code. I know what's in the letters you wrote, and those paintings. You know something about Titans that the rest of us don't. If you're doing such good for humanity, then you wouldn't be hiding it. It doesn't matter if you kill me. If it's not me, someone else will figure it out."

"I beg to differ. The Scouts have been disbanded by royal decree and have been rounded up for questioning. Your commander is to be executed. This little rebellion you've attempted to ignite will be snuffed out before it can even catch fire."

Disbanded! Katrine bit back a gasp, immediately picturing Mila and Sara dragged to prison, rough hands shoving them to the ground, iron shackles bounding their wrists just like hers. Hange, too, shards from her broken glasses protruding from her eyes. Erwin's snapped neck, his head lolling on a limp body, Elisabeth standing behind the gallows. And Levi, wherever he was, because she could never quite picture any situation where his life was truly in danger, but since she was pathetic and selfish like he'd said she thought of how the only way he was going to remember her was when she'd tried to kiss him and he'd looked so horrified, so disgusted, and the memory that she'd tried so hard to lock away in her mind came flooding back in a torrent that was just as awful as death.

"It was your job to protect the Walls from outside threats," Lucian continued. "But when you failed to do that, you turned your anger inward instead of reflecting upon your flaws. And now you must face the consequences of your sins."

"Whatever sins you think I have pale in comparison to yours," Katrine snarled. "I never killed anyone, not like you, not some poor girl half your age who wouldn't let you rape her!"

Lucian's hand flew up, one long fingernail pointing at the eye covered by a black patch. "Have you already forgotten? You might have succeeded if Rose had granted you the courage." He clasped his hands, his face softening as if in pity. "The Church will forgive you, despite your insolence and pride. The Sisters are compassionate souls. They will welcome you into their loving embrace as they have for the children, washed clean of the burden of their sins." He cast out one arm, indicating behind her, and Katrine turned.

The source of the noise wasn't rats. It was a group of children huddled in the corner, pressed into each other as if that would hide them. The stark white of the ceremonial gowns was garish against the dirty cinderblocks and their pale, dirt-smudged faces, a few cheeks streaked with tears. Wide eyes blinked back at her, pale lips pressed together as to be nearly invisible, terrified by either her or Lucian's presence. She knew immediately they were sentenced to death, living bodies already in their coffins. Tiny nooses swinging on that gallows somewhere above her.

Katrine whipped her head back around, gaping at Lucian. "What are they doing here? What could they possibly have done to deserve this?"

"It's not what they did. But sometimes, one must die for the benefit of many. It is a noble sacrifice, a great tradition started by Ymir and passed down to all of us." With a sigh that almost sounded sad, Lucian turned and began to walk away.

"Fuck that! They didn't do anything! And Victoria didn't die for some noble tradition, she died because you strangled her!"

He stopped. "No. But if I had not given in to my wrath, then I would have drowned in the bottle. That wretched cycle of drinking and whoring, drinking and whoring, a pointless life terminating in a pointless death. But life grows even when the field is burned. Without her, I would have never found my purpose." His footsteps started again, fading away.

"Lucian!"

There was no response, only that ugly name echoing off the stone walls.

Panting, Katrine turned, half-hoping that this was all some hallucination from the traces of coderoin still left in her blood. But they remained. They appeared to be vibrating, their terrified heartbeats causing them to quiver like withered leaves hanging onto a branch. But it was her own heart, crawling into her throat, galloping irregularly as her breath quickened. He's going to kill them. And all you can do is sit there and scream.

"It's…" she started to say, but her throat closed around the words. It's going to be okay. A lie, like it was every time. She couldn't stop gasping, her lungs contracting painfully, a thousand terrible thoughts ricocheting inside her head. A thousand ways to snuff out a life, a thousand ways to fail.

"Is she going to help us?" a voice asked.

"No. No one's helping. Stop asking."

She pressed her forehead into the cold concrete, willing it to swallow her again. Her muscles weakened, bones melting.

"When's Papa coming?" I don't know. Her vision turned dark. I'm sorry I didn't try harder.

"Lady, your lipstick's messed up."

Her thoughts materialized again, slowly taking shape in the cold damp darkness. What a terrible way to die.

It was supposed to be in a nice place. Red sands, blazing sun warming old wrinkled skin. Weightless without her troubles, not crushed under the burden of her failures. No one to poke her, prod her, or tell her when to rise or leap or lie down on that bed. No Lucian, no Mr. Kaiser, no patrons lurking in the shadows. No Erwin, looking down on her with that cool gaze, knowing exactly what to do to keep her trapped.

No Levi, either.

That scattered her thoughts again, a rock thrown into a still pond. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to be whatever he was, either; an enigma, an uncrackable code. It would have been easier if he were like all the others, expecting something out of her. A transaction. She should have been afraid of his hands, not begging for them to catch her again. But they'd pushed her away all the same.

Why'd you even try? He was never going to want you. Her hands were empty, touched only by cold metal.

She should have never gone back. She should have stayed in Utopia, pretended to have never gotten the summons from Erwin. Thrown it in the fire. She should have opened that book, found out its secrets, followed it north. It meant freedom, what she was supposed to want, but instead, she'd wanted...what? Forgiveness from Levi? Acceptance?

The cold concrete pinched her skin as tears pricked at her eyes. It felt like she was in the closet again. If she hadn't come back, she could have kept on hating him and never seen that sorrowful look on his face when she'd told him everything, seen him raise his hand an inch and then freeze like he was trying to stop himself from wiping the tears at her eyes. Hating people was easier; it always had been.

And then she'd never have gone to Mitras again and — those kids!

With a gasp, Katrine lifted her head. They were still there, huddled in the corner, but they froze when she moved, eyes wide with terror. Their hands weren't shackled like hers, but each had a metal cuff around their ankle, chained to the wall. The youngest, a boy no older than five, shoved a thumb in his mouth.

"Did they do anything?" she blurted. "Did they...hurt you?"

They exchanged unsure glances. A boy with a round face and snub nose spoke in a quiet voice. "The man in the tan jacket slapped Anya and told her to shut up. It looked like yours."

"Shut up!" the tallest boy hissed. He appeared to be the oldest, sinewy with close-cropped hair.

"The unicorn." A girl with a tangled red ponytail rubbed her bruised cheek, ignoring the oldest boy's glare; she must be Anya. A few nodded.

"I'm not one of them," Katrine said, but was met with untrusting stares. "I promise! It's— it's not important right now. But…they didn't…touch you?"

The boy with a thumb in his mouth pulled it out with a loud pop. "The man doesn't want to. He says we're dirty. But Mama gave me a bath last week."

"Quiet!" the oldest boy snapped again.

"Who? What man? Lucian?" Katrine asked.

"No," the snub-nosed boy said. "The man in the black gown. He brings us food."

"And that's it? That's all he does?"

He nodded. Katrine swallowed a sigh of relief. "Okay, my name is Katrine, and I'm not with the MPs. The people with the unicorns on their jackets. I know I'm wearing one, but...I'm really with the Scouts. You know them?"

"The Titan killers?" The youngest boy grinned, revealing two missing teeth.

"Yes!" Katrine smiled back. "We knew the Cult was doing something fishy. I was investigating, and...I got caught. But how did you all get here?"

The question was met with silence. Anya and the oldest boy beside her folded their arms and looked at the floor with narrowed eyes. A few snuffles echoed off the walls.

"The man in the black gown came," the youngest boy finally said. "He had food. It was really good." He sounded glum.

"Yeah. And then he said he had more food up the stairs," the snub-nosed boy said.

Stairs. Of course they'd take them from there. "Where are you all from?" Katrine asked, already knowing the answer.

The youngest boy yanked on an older girl's tunic. "Me and Netty live in the topsy-turvy house. On the second floor."

"No, stupid, she means our neighborhood." Netty smacked her brother's head. "Grand Boulevard."

"Hammershead," Anya said.

"You're from the Underground." They wouldn't know where we are, then. Katrine pressed her lips together, trying to form a plan. "You said that the man in the black gown brings you food. When was the last time he came?"

Anya shrugged. "It was a while ago. I think he comes every day, but I don't know what time."

Katrine tested the shackles at her wrist, determining how closely her wrists were bound, and found that she was able to easily lift her arms off her back. "You don't know how long you've been down here, do you?"

The girl shook her head. "We had three meals, but we haven't had one since the ceremony."

"Good, I think I have a plan," Katrine said. "And it involves that priest, the man in the black gown who brings you food—"

"You think we're a bunch of fools, don't you?" The oldest boy stepped forward, the chain keeping him tethered to the wall clinking. "If you're stupid enough to get caught, then how're you getting us out?"

Anya shook his shoulder. "Sid, stop—"

"It's like I told you! Can't ever trust Uppers. They think we're worse than the dirt they scrape off their boots." His lip curled in disgust.

"Look, I came from the same place you all did. I lived in Left Bank," Katrine said, staring into his eyes as her heart beat faster. "That's how I know where you're from. But...it was different. A man came down. He gave my mother a sack of coins and he took me up the stairs."

Sid's disdainful expression faltered, but his brow furrowed again. "Why should we believe you?" Even Anya was quiet.

"I...you'll have to trust me. But those priests aren't letting you out of here alive."

Sid clenched his jaw, crooked nose wrinkling, and though it was a completely ridiculous notion because the two of them looked nothing alike, Katrine thought with a flicker of heat in her chest that he reminded her of Levi, or what he'd be like if she'd known him down there. They were all pale, ragged things, but alive. I'm getting them out of here, and I'm keeping this promise even if it kills me.

"We don't have any other option," Anya muttered.

"We're not going back, Anya," Sid spat. "There's nothing there for us."

"You don't have to," Katrine said. "I promise, I'll find a way."

"Promises don't mean—"

Anya slapped her hand over Sid's mouth. "What's the plan?"

When she hadn't been paying attention, the children's faces had turned from fearful to resolute. Katrine nodded. "Someone's going to become gravely ill."

When the footsteps came, they were ready.

Katrine pushed herself into the corner at the front of the cell where the bars met the stone wall, pretending to be asleep. With worried expressions, the other children gathered around Willem, the youngest boy, who writhed on the floor while clutching his stomach. He'd been thrilled to be assigned the starring role, giggling when Katrine directed him to splash water on his face and plaster hair to his forehead to mimic a fever.

With a jangle of keys, the cell door unlocked, and Katrine cracked her eyes open to watch the priest set a tray of soup and a hunk of bread on the floor. She tensed her muscles, ready to spring, and lifted her bound arms up off her back.

"Excuse me, um, sir, Willem's sick," Anya said. "It started a few hours ago."

"He'll get over it." The priest rose to his feet, pushing the tray a few inches forward with his foot, and pointed at the bucket in the corner. "You've still got water left, make him drink it."

"He's burning up!" Anya said.

"What's wrong with you? He's sick!" Sid snapped.

"I'm not touching him!" the priest said. "What if he's contagious?"

"It hurts!" Willem wailed.

"Please!" Anya gestured frantically at Willem. "He's got this hideous rash, too! Look!"

The priest grimaced but stepped around the tray and towards the children. Once his back was turned, Katrine silently shifted to her knees and grabbed the chain of her shackles in one hand as she twisted her arms up and around her head, creeping forward with her hands clenched together.

Willem coughed pathetically as the priest crouched over him.

"Cover your mouth, boy, I don't want—"

Katrine swung her fists down on the back of the man's neck, sending him toppling over, and quickly kicked his stomach. The keyring flew out of his hand and shot across the floor. As he curled inward, groaning, she stepped over him and kicked the back of his head, then jumped backward, waiting to assess the damage. He moaned and twitched, but then fell silent.

She crept over to the keys, listening for footsteps or cries of alarm, and when she heard none she snatched them up and darted to Anya, handing them over. "Unlock me, then I'll help you."

With shaking hands, Anya ran through the keys dangling from the keyring, shoving each into the lock on the shackles and trying to turn them. Katrine clenched her fists, praying that one of them would work and that this wasn't a huge miscalculation. Finally, the shackles snapped open and fell to the floor.

"We need to find a way out," Katrine said as she took the keyring. "Sid and Anya, you're the oldest, right? You two come with me. It's safer if the rest of you stay here. If someone comes by, you have to act like nothing happened."

"What about him?" Sid nodded to the unconscious priest.

"He's trading places with me." With her foot, Katrine nudged her unlocked shackles next to the man. "I think we can find our escape route before he wakes up."

After she released Anya and Sid, they locked the cuffs around the priest's wrists and dragged him to the corner, out of sight. Then Katrine directed the children into the corner, hiding the shackles that previously held Anya and Sid behind them.

"You need to eat this," she said as she brought the tray of food over. "You need your strength."

"You're coming back, right?" the snub-nosed boy asked.

A sudden shuffling noise caused Katrine to turn; Anya had given the priest another kick to the stomach.

"Of course I am," she said as she shifted to block their view of any gratuitous violence. "I'm not leaving you here for a second longer than I have to."

"But…" Willem sniffled.

Katrine reached into her waistband and pulled out the little straw doll. It had come with her half out of habit, half out of some ridiculous hope that it really was magical, though it hadn't done much to help her now. There was a small spot of blood on the lower half of its face where the painted mouth had rubbed away. Now it really does look like me. "You take this. It's lucky, I swear." With a wink, she tapped him on the chest. "When I return, I want this back. Promise?"

Willem smiled. "Promise."

After closing the cell door and locking it behind them, Katrine tucked the keys into her waistband and scanned the hallway. Empty, besides the shadows cast on the walls by the flickering torches. The only noise was their breathing. She wondered what she was supposed to do if any other priests or even MPs wandered down the hallway. She'd only gotten the upper hand on the one now shackled in the cell because he'd been distracted. Even if she did have backup, what could she do against a group of them like before? Sid had ropy arms that she now noticed were laced with scars in the dim light, and Anya had fire behind her eyes; but they were only kids, even if they'd grown up fighting to survive in the Underground. The empty holster that once held Levi's knife felt too light at her thigh. He's going to kill me when he finds out, she thought. If the priests don't get to me first.

"Which way did that priest come from when he brought you food?" she asked.

Anya pointed to the left.

With a small wave to those left inside the cell, Katrine started down the hallway in the opposite direction. If the priest had come that way, then there was a greater chance of another coming, too; better to avoid it. Also, she'd wanted to take the path Lucian had followed. He'd be the one with answers.

"Even if you got us out, I still don't trust you," Sid said. "What kind of grown idiot gets kidnapped by a priest?"

"Sid!" Anya hissed, then looked at Katrine apologetically. "He's my big brother. He thinks he's invincible. Though clearly, he's not." She rolled her eyes in the way only a little sister could.

"Wasn't my fault," Sid said through clenched teeth. "Guess we're only worth a hundred crowns."

Katrine decided not to press. "As long as you do what I say, I don't care what you think of me. Now be quiet."

They pressed onward, creeping down the tunnel. The cold, damp air made her lungs creak. Scanning the walls for anything besides the shadows dancing along them, she halted when the hallway split into two equally dark sections. Katrine held out her hand. "We should stick together."

"But we—" Sid's voice was cut off. Good thing I brought Anya.

Katrine closed her eyes, trying to listen. Nothing. Shit. Erwin would say something like logically, most people are right-handed, so they're used to turning right for their offices, and Levi probably could hear someone sneezing from a mile away. Stifling a groan, she started down the left hallway, waving them along.

It opened into a room that looked like a laboratory, a space both cramped and tidy. On one wall was an overstuffed bookshelf and a thick glass cabinet displaying jars of strange green liquid: when Katrine caught sight of something pale and misshapen bobbing in one, she looked away. The desk on the other side held various sizes of beakers and flasks, stacks of books and papers with dense lines of tiny print, and a collection of small vials. For a moment she thought of Hange, and how she could go digging around for hours, but the image quickly vanished. There was a sinister air in the room, something dark and perverse waiting in the shadows cast by the stacks of books and glassware.

An off-key humming noise, decidedly human, floated from the dark doorway at the end of the room. Katrine turned to Anya and Sid, holding a finger to her lips, and they nodded. She gently picked up one of the vials sitting on the desk. Armor was written on a piece of tape on its side, the liquid inside a sickly yellow. Another promised Strength. Intelligence, Colossus, Scream. Katrine set it down and picked up one that was a dark red color. Ackerman.

I'm Kenneth Grant Roberts Ackerman echoed through her head as she put it back. But you can call me Kenny. She shuddered. What did that man have to do with this?

The humming grew louder, turning unnervingly cheery. Katrine grabbed an empty flask by the neck and motioned to Anya and Sid to stand behind her. Then she tensed, waiting.

As soon as Lucian entered the room, Katrine smashed the bottom of the flask against the desk, leaving her with the jagged neck as her only weapon.

His face betrayed shock, but then softened to amusement. An odd laugh burbled out of him. "I don't know why I'm surprised. You aren't one to be held down."

"Show us the way out. Or I'll shove this down your throat."

Lucian tutted, shaking his head. "I warn you, it's not in your best interest to approach me with that. You don't know what this is." He raised his arm. In his hand was a glass syringe, filled with a viscous clear liquid. The tip of the needle gleamed in the weak light.

"For all I know, it could be water."

"This," he said with a crooked smile, "is a potent concoction. The main ingredient? Titan spinal fluid. One drop of this and you'll be cursed to spend eternity as a demon, the very same fate as the poor soul who provided me with it."

Katrine lowered her arm. It's true. Titans were humans. And humans can be changed into Titans. "You knew? The Cult knew this whole time and never told us?"

"The masses cannot be trusted with such information. What do you think would happen if they knew? Mistrust spreads like disease, emotion takes over. Man turns on fellow man. Towns razed, districts demolished. Then there would no longer be any humanity to protect. As the royal council rightly decreed, few can be trusted with this knowledge."

"How presumptuous of you to make the decision for us. But if you know that, then where did the Titans outside the Walls come from? They were people once, too."

He shook his head ruefully. "No. We are all alone, a beacon of light in this dark hell. The Titans outside the walls are reminders from the Sisters of the true nature of our sins, and how a life of devotion to them will free us of the shackles of fear."

He could be lying, Katrine reminded herself. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I believe it is fair trade, to inform you of your past and your sacrifice. Because neither you nor the children will be leaving this place alive."

"No!" Anya stepped forward from behind Katrine, but Sid grabbed her hand. Katrine held out her arm to stop them, but could feel the terror bouncing off them.

Lucian nodded at them. "This is your duty, your sacred duty. While you may not understand now, you will spend eternity in peaceful sleep protecting those who still live. Now, I've certainly entertained you for long enough." He reached for a rope that dangled from a hole in the ceiling, and just as Katrine realized it had to connect to some mechanism that alerted the other priests, she snatched a vial from the desk and hurled it at Lucian. The glass shattered on the wall between him and the bell, leaving a dark stain. Lucian jumped backward, hands clapped to his mouth as the liquid began to bubble and steam.

"You fool!" he sputtered. "You have no idea what that would have done if it got in my mouth! We would have all died!"

"Then enlighten me." Katrine stepped forward, holding out the jagged neck of the flask. "You tell me what all this is, and what the Cult knows. And what these precious experiments are that you think are so important."

Lucian backed away, the syringe still pointed toward her. "You wouldn't. You couldn't before. That man with the cold eyes did more than you could."

Katrine clenched the broken flask harder. "That was before I saw you had a cell full of children waiting for you to jab them with needles. I know they're from the Underground. Why are they here and why are you parading them around in secret ceremonies?"

"You already know that inside the Walls, Colossal Titans stand. They've been there since before you were barely a gleam in your great-grandfather's eye." Lucian pressed himself against the wall, eyeing the sharp edges of the flask. "The First King ordered them to stand guard. But he didn't teach us their secrets. We thought they were unbreakable. So when Wall Maria was breached, we needed a way to rebuild them."

"But the Cult always said that the Walls shouldn't be touched. That the breach was divine retribution for our sins."

Lucian wrinkled his nose slightly. "The old way. If the Sisters provided us with such knowledge, why not use it?"

"That's a noble idea, Lucian, but it doesn't explain why you have a bunch of kids chained up in a cell."

He held up the syringe. "We've known that when a Titan's spinal fluid enters the human bloodstream, that human will transform into a Titan. There is still much I need to research on how that determines size and level of intelligence. But, what happens when too much is injected? There is a limit to size, I discovered. And…" A slow smile crept across his face, revealing a row of crooked teeth jutting out of his gums like gravestones. "A happy accident. Very happy, indeed."

The hair on her arms rose. Whatever accidents that happened around Lucian could never be considered happy.

"Mere words cannot describe it. I think it would be better to show you." Waving them forward, Lucian tucked the syringe in his gown and walked back into the room behind the laboratory. Katrine quickly followed, gripping the broken flask, anticipating a trap.

What awaited her was a larger room, otherwise empty but for a single workbench and what Katrine could only determine were four large crystals displayed on pedestals. They towered over her, at least eight feet in diameter, a cloudy rust color that dully reflected the light. Confused, Katrine turned to Lucian, but he strode forward and placed a hand on one of the crystals. She too moved closer, squinting and trying to understand, until she saw the single eyeball suspended in the crystal.

She shrieked and jumped backward, but she couldn't unsee it, the body trapped in crystal or what used to be a body. It was a bundle of limbs, disconnected but for thin threads of muscle, pale skin twisted beneath the facets of the crystal. Waves of red had spread and frozen in the crystal, blood that lent it that rusty tinge. Pressed to the top of another crystal was one tiny hand that she imagined had scraped and pounded against it in a vain attempt to escape.

"What...is this?" Katrine gasped, stomach roiling.

"Watch." Lucian picked up a nail and hammer from the bench. Pinching the nail between his fingers, he placed it against the crystal and began to hammer. A horrible screeching noise made her shoulders tense, and it echoed in her ears even after he stopped. He held up the nail. It was bent in half.

"Now this is only a parlor trick. If you really want a show, you should see when we tried bullets. Or those swords you Scouts use. It's impenetrable! Invincible! And inexhaustible to create!"

"But— You—" She turned back to Anya and Sid, their horrified expressions matching her own, and then she understood, a sickening feeling that spread through her body like a miasma. Of the subjects gathered, four tested well. "What did you do to them? How— are they even alive?"

"What I did," Lucian said, "was transform one short life of suffering into an eternity of glory. Build a shield for humanity with the dregs of society. This crystal cannot be broken. And by using them to buttress the Walls, we will be unbreakable."

"That's why…" Katrine turned to Anya and Sid, wide-eyed with terror, their knuckles white as their hands clasped. "You pick them from the Underground because no one cares, right? Little kids who can't fight back, orphans with no one to stop you? Parents who want those coins more than they want another mouth to feed?" It could've been me, torn to pieces inside that crystal. Jabbed by a needle instead of a finger.

"Pointless lives terminating in pointless deaths. Why bother living if you can't leave this world better than you found it? This way, these people give up their lives for something greater than themselves. A purposeful death, rather than wasting away in the filth."

"We're already in hell! You said so yourself!"

"A burden, yes, but I mean to lift the burden for those who come after me. Imagine a world where we can build the Walls higher, keep them fortified. No need for these useless cannons. Mere ornaments." Lucian shook his head in disgust. "Perhaps, even another Wall! Expand this hell and transform it into paradise! Lucian's Wall, another weapon in our arsenal, a protector of the Sisters!"

He's insane. And whoever let him do this is insane, too. Katrine pointed behind her at Anya and Sid. "They never asked for this! It wasn't their choice, and you had no right to make it for them! No more than it was my choice to be dragged above to dance for you, or Victoria's choice to spend the night with you!"

Lucian raised his chin with a sanctimonious expression. "Everyone has their purpose. Yours was to entertain, to perform. Not to question your betters. Theirs," he said, nodding at the children, "is to protect and serve, to give up their lives for humanity. The order of things is complete. Be silent and accept it."

"This is absurd! It's barbaric!"

"You saw Edelweiss Cathedral after the destruction of Stohess. It stood unbroken while other buildings failed. That was proof enough to the royal council that the method works, along with the fact that the girl who controlled the Female Titan crystallized in a similar manner shows that their powers are not unknowable. And with my improvements to the science left behind by our ancestors, there will be no need for impetuous children like Eren Jaeger to wield such enormous power that they are woefully ill-equipped to handle. I will meld this power into a sword for humanity..." He trailed off, a faraway look gleaming in his eyes. "And maybe even the royal family's…"

"You knew, then, that there's a fake on the throne. Why? And what's so special about them, and that they accept that you slaughter children just because they attend some contrived ceremony?"

"We remind ourselves of the hell we suffer through, the sins we commit, and that repentance from those sins makes us stronger, as do the Walls." He shrugged as if it were obvious.

Bullshit. It was all bullshit. And that meant Helena knew. Her tears and anger could've been contrived, too. Even if Lucian was trying to protect humanity, his means could never be justified if it were for some small fraction. Who had the right to decide who was fit or unfit to live in these bloodied Walls? Because she'd always fall into the pile to discard, had spent all her life being reminded of that fact, and could not let Lucian think he could do whatever he wanted to those he found inferior.

"Please know that I deeply regret what happened to that girl," Lucian said, placing a hand on one of the crystals as if caressing it. "But I like to think that Victoria would be happy with what I've accomplished with her death."

Katrine surged toward him, the jagged edges of the flask pointed directly at his neck. "Never. You would've killed her anyway, with your hands or that poison."

"I know it is difficult to understand. But what one sacrifices will protect a hundred others. Think of how many people have died during your time with the Scouts. Strengthening the Walls will save that number ten times over. That is why you will go gladly to your death." He turned, his expression darkening as he steepled his fingers. "I have lectured you for long enough. Return to your cell and reflect on the flaws that brought you here." He stepped forward.

"No!" Sid burst forth, slamming into Lucian. The priest groaned in surprise, but was too sturdy for Sid to do more than shift him a few inches. With a meaty hand curled into a fist, he punched Sid's temple and the boy crumpled to the floor.

Anya screamed, rushing to her brother's side and brushing aside Katrine's grasp.

"You have to get out of here!" Katrine grabbed Anya's shoulder, trying fruitlessly to push her toward the door. But she froze when metal flashed in her periphery. Lucian had withdrawn a knife from his cassock. It was her knife, Levi's knife, gripped in that immense hand.

"My vows prohibit violence," he growled, "and I have not erred in that vow. But I will be forgiven for punishing your insolence."

She'd practiced knife drills, back in the training corps. But it'd been with wooden props, not a cracked glass flask against the only weapon that once made her think that she, too, could be untouchable. Stepping backward and to the side, Katrine raised one hand. "We don't have to do this, Lucian."

"I will not let a whore like you ruin everything that I have built."

With a shriek, Anya leaped forward, sinking her teeth into Lucian's forearm, her tiny hands scratching at his neck. He shouted in pain, but did not let go of the knife. His other fist swung and slammed into her stomach. When she let go, he lashed out with the knife, a deep scratch blossoming on her face.

Anya's scream was terrible and keening, jolting Katrine's muscles to life, and she lunged at Lucian's side. When he swung at her with the knife, she grabbed his arm and plunged the broken flask into his stomach. But it barely sank into him, ineffective against his thick gown, and when he swatted her aside the glass flew out of her hand and shattered on the ground, only a few shards tipped with blood.

Lucian tackled Katrine into the workbench, sending papers fluttering, and thrust the knife at her face. She leaned backward, shielding her face with her arm, causing syringes and vials to tumble to the floor and shatter. Noxious fumes filled the air as the liquids began to evaporate into steam.

"You idiot!" Sharp hot pain exploded in her forearm as the knife sliced into her skin. Blood dripped onto her face, metallic on her lips. "Those would have changed your worthless lives!"

Katrine squeezed out of his grip and stumbled to the edge of the workbench. It shuddered and the candlestick at the edge clattered off the table and onto the floor. Flames erupted from the remnants of the liquids. She gasped and jumped away.

Seizing the opportunity, Lucian grabbed Katrine's bloodied arm, digging his thumb into the wound. She yelped in pain as he swung the knife again. Blood spurted at her thigh and she fell to her knees.

"You will not," Lucian shouted as he slammed a fist into her cheek, "ruin my legacy!"

The stone floor was cold. It felt good on her stinging cuts, the heat raging on her face. Underwater again. Faintly she heard Lucian shouting. A fuzzy shape that looked like Sid grabbed his ankle and Lucian kicked at his head.

No, stop, he's going to kill you, too.

Lucian collapsed on top of her. The knife shot out of his hand, skittering across the floor. His weight pinned her legs, her arms, a bird with its wings ripped off. Of course this was how she was going to die. How had it happened to Victoria and not her?

The weight sank on top of her chest. Her ribs groaned. Hands snaked around her neck.

Something snapped in the back of her skull behind the roaring pain. Katrine pounded at Lucian's chest, flailing her limbs, trying to bash in his nose with her head.

But his hands did not falter. His face, red and sweating with exertion, twisted in pleasure. Her strength faded, rage crumbling to dust. Black fog crept over her vision, leaving only the flames reflected that single eye.

A/N: I hope this all makes sense?

So I got the idea for this based on how Rod Reiss had both Titan serum and the hardening serum Eren uses, and I always wondered where he got it. It's possible that they brought it over from Marley before the Walls were built, but I preferred the idea that the royal circle would have this kind of knowledge and keep it secret, and have someone in the Cult involved in it, though Lucian's certainly gone off in a mad-scientist kind of way. They might try to make other serums besides the hardening one, or try to mimic the powers the other Titans have or make them more intelligent.

Also, the language I used for the ceremony in a previous chapter is based on the practice of immurement which is a form of burying people alive, but can involve trapping people in walls as human sacrifice to make the walls stronger. This was how the people in the royal circle who know this is going on can rationalize it. There's info on Wikipedia if you're interested but it's pretty gnarly