The sun shone in a cheery fashion to warm the backs of the citizens milling about the open-air marketplace. Laurel Town's market was one of the best within Rose, merchants coming from far and wide to set up booths and showcase anything from pottery to carriages. A baker gladly exchanged a warm loaf of bread for the three coins the young woman before him slid across his table.

Celine tore a chunk of the bread away with her teeth before handing the remainder to Hange.

"I never knew this was here!" Hange said, looking about in delight.

"Becash," Celine said. She finished chewing and swallowed, thumping her chest to help the bread go down. "It's because you never do anything outside Titan stuff."

"Not true," Hange said. She mimicked Celine by biting into the loaf and tearing it in two before handing it over. "I'm a heho suporer of eh arrs. I go-oh eh gawa airwee ew muhs."

"Whatever," Celine said, not bothering to ask for clarification. She came to a stop in front of a carpenter's stall. She bent over to inspect one of the chairs, running her hand over the grain. The shopkeeper was greeted in a distant manner as Celine straightened.

"Do you have any other chairs? Maybe oak or mahogany?"

The shopkeeper quickly agreed to check his stock. Celine waited until he disappeared into a tent before leaning in to whisper to Hange.

"If all he has are chairs made out of cedar, we're leaving. I don't even know what this guy is thinking … What, does he make furniture for whore houses? Seriously – 'cedar.'"

"They seem fine to me," Hange said. She took another bite of bread, swallowing this time before turning back to Celine. "The expedition will be leaving soon."

"Right," Celine said. She looked down at the last of the bread she had in hand. "You guys are even taking the new recruits … Marco was telling me most of his friends from his unit joined the Scouts."

"We'll keep an eye on them," Hange said, placing a reassuring hand on Celine's shoulder. "The new recruits are going to be kept in a secure spot of the formation."

Celine nodded. Her lips puckered as if she tasted something sour. "I know you don't really have the ability to do this, but … there's a kid from the 104th named Jean Kirschtein. Watch his back if you have the chance."

"Jean talked me out of it," Marco had said, rubbing his calf from where Celine had given him a swift kick the night of his graduation. "He's the one who changed my mind about joining the Scouts. Jean told me my talents would be better used in the Military Police. I still feel guilty … but I think he's right."

"Will do!" Hange said. She put her hands on her hips, beaming as the shopkeeper returned with a pair of chairs. "Ah, look at those! They're perfect!"

"They're redwood," Celine said, nose wrinkling.

"How much do I owe you, fine fellow?" Hange asked. She ignored Celine's whispered complaints over the price tag as the chairs were exchanged for a handful of bills. The pair of chairs were stacked atop one another to be picked up … then immediately put back down.

"Oh!" Hange said, shielding her eyes so she could get a better look at the soldier approaching by horseback. "I thought I had more time. Looks like I need to get to the gate."

Moblit was riding atop a black mare, leading a tan stallion by a length of rope. "Good morning, Celine," he said. "Will you be riding along with us to the gate?"

"What gate?" Celine said, feeling blindsided. "Are you guys doing a survey of Calaneth before your expedition?"

Now it was Moblit's turn to seem surprised. "It's … it's for the fifty-seventh expedition. Section Commander Hange and I will be leaving the walls within a few hours."

"Are you shitting me?!" Celine said, rounding on Hange. "You told me it got pushed back!"

"Well," Hange said, drawing the word out as she climbed onto her horse. "You tend to get a little mopey when I leave … and I really needed your full attention to help me get new chairs."

"You didn't even take my advice!" Celine said, fuming. "You got redwood!"

"Ah …" Hange said. "But you are going to help me by carrying them back to my home."

"What?!"

"So long, Celine!" Hange said, turning her horse about and urging it into a trot. "I should be back in a few days! Try not to be too depressed in my absence!"

"If the Titans don't kill you, I will!"

"I'll miss you, too!" Hange said, waving. "Come on, Moblit – we don't want Levi getting on our case for being late."

Moblit was all too happy to get out of Celine's proximity as fast as possible. It took nearly two blocks for the sound of Celine screaming curses at their backs to get swallowed up by the hum of the crowd.

"I'm worried about her," Hange said.

"I'm worried about you," Moblit said, turning to regard the solemn expression on Hange's face.

"Celine's fallen into a bit of a rut; she seems to have lost her drive," Hange said with a shake to her head. "Hopefully she can find it."

"Her drive may be to murder you," Moblit mumbled.

"Ah, well," Hange said, shaking the somber mood off like a dog with wet fur. "Let's pick up the pace! We're off to Shiganshina!"

"Thank you," Celine said, accepting the cup of steaming tea. She held the accompanying saucer in one hand while lifting the cup to her lips using the small handle with the other. A content hum escaped her as she lowered the teacup and returned it to the saucer with a gentle clink.

"I'm glad you stopped by to visit," Samuel said, taking a seat opposite his daughter. "It's been a few weeks since you've been by the factory. Ah, that's right – did your friend enjoy the gift?"

"Oh, the blanket?" Celine said. "I'm not sure. I didn't give it to him myself, so I'll have to remember to ask Marco."

Samuel nodded. He leaned back in one of two armchairs flanking a small table pushed against the window. The large second-story space of the textile factory was used as Samuel's office and workshop. He remembered a time when Celine used to frequent the space more often than not. Those years had long passed, and now Samuel regarded a young woman across from him who was looking increasingly like her mother with every passing day. The similarities stopped when it came to her personality. Various pivots made over the past few months had helped along with that. Samuel was grateful for the fact.

"So," Samuel said. "Are you going to tell me about the chairs?"

Celine leaned over in her seat to regard the stacked pair of wooden chairs in the corner. Her face scrunched up as if smelling something repugnant.

"I was entrusted with them this morning by a friend of mine," Celine said. "I'm going to burn them when she gets back."

"Good," Samuel said, taking a sip of tea. "They're redwood. The only thing worse is cedar."

"Agreed."

Part of Samuel was unwilling to break the comfortable silence that followed. Another part gave in to his ever-inquisitive nature.

"Any improvement to your situation in the Technical Department?"

Celine stared at her tea. She took a sip. "Where did you get this? I like the hint of raspberry."

"My neighbor," Samuel said, drumming his fingers on his armrest. "And don't deflect."

"Geez," Celine said. "You remind me of Nile when you're like that; neither of you are fun." She waved her free hand in a dismissive manner. "I don't do much; just read everything that comes across my desk."

Samuel's brow furrowed. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"No one said I wasn't," Celine said. "I mean, everything is sealed, but it's easy enough to undo ties or re-melt wax seals."

"Celine …"

"I'm being careful," Celine said, gesturing with her teacup. "And you wouldn't blame me if you were in my position. I'd spend hours on end bored out of my mind, otherwise."

Samuel shifted in his seat. He cleared his throat. "Come across anything good?"

"Ah, there's the father I know," Celine said, a sly nature to her voice. "In fact, I have – but I'm not going to risk getting myself in more hot water by mentioning it to you."

"Not even a hint?"

"Hmm," Celine said. "I suppose I can tell you there are things in the works to combat some of the abnormal Titans."

"Fascinating," Samuel said, leaning forward in his seat. "By 'abnormal,' you must mean the Armored or the Colossal Titans, yes?"

"The weapon is in early development," Celine said with a shrug. "And they think there's a problem with its trajectory due to the shape of the hull; the real issue is they're not including the weight of the ignition powder in their calculations because they're assuming it all burns off right away … it doesn't. At least not for a few seconds, which is more than long enough to throw everything off."

"Are you going to tell anyone?"

"No one will listen," Celine said, taking another drink of tea. "And I'm not even supposed to know about it to begin with. If I did, I'd at least tell them to name it something less ridiculous than 'Thunder-Spears.' Hopefully that's just a working title."

Samuel sat back in his seat. He tried to put on a smile to counter Celine's melancholy expression.

"I'm proud of you, either way," he said. "You accomplished your goal – you followed in your mother's footsteps and joined the Military Police. She would feel the same way I would."

A moment passed of Celine staring at what little reflection she could make out of herself in her tea.

"I ponder on it, every now and then," Celine said. "I've been having trouble coming to terms with the fact Mom died thinking I was a disappointment."

Samuel's expression fell. He picked at the loose lining of his armrest, letting out a low hum before moving to speak.

"Let's talk about something else," Celine said, cutting him off. "I already hear enough about Mom wherever I go. How's Suzy? Did the dresses I ordered come in yet?"

Samuel was happy to take up the offer for a change in topic. The conversation shifted to how the youngest member of the Bodt family was doing as her teeth were coming in. This flowed into the news of Rosie opening up her own embroidery shop within Stohess District sometime in the winter. Celine mentioned spotting more than a few of her designs along the shoulders and cuffs of various pedestrians on her walks into work.

"Does Marco accompany you now?"

Celine shook her head. "No, his branch of the Military Police lives on site. I'll see him on occasion around lunch if he's not on patrol."

There was a pause as Celine took a sip from her tea. She appeared to be contemplating something before continuing.

"Marco has nothing but good things to say whenever we cross paths. It isn't unusual, but it leaves me wondering how things are really going. I worry about him being isolated. Only one of his friends ended up joining the Military Police along with him."

"Ah," Samuel said, frowning. "The 104th Cadets were quite the topic of conversation a month ago. No one could remember a time when so many cadets in the top ten joined the Scout Regiment. Thank goodness Marco had some sense."

"That boy has no sense at all," Celine said, finishing her tea. "He's lucky he has people around him who do. I just … I just hope he doesn't lose them."

"Well," Samuel said. "He still has you. I'm glad to see the two of you getting along so well."

"What do you mean?" Celine said. She placed her cup on the table, swinging one leg over the other and leaning back in her seat. "We've always got along fine."

Samuel chuckled. "That's a poor joke."

"Siblings fight," Celine said with a shrug. "What, am I supposed to be the only one out there without an aggravating younger brother?"

This caused Samuel to laugh openly. "I think you're the only one in the walls who'd refer to Marco as 'aggravating,' my sunshine."

A knock caught their attention. The rhythmic sound of humming and thumping from the looms a floor below filled the air before the door was closed behind a young man standing at the opposite end of the room. Samuel recognized him as one of the on-call loom repairmen.

"Mr. Bodt; Private Bodt," the man said, removing his cap and giving them each a nod. "I've heard word from a friend of mine the Garrison are talking about seeing flares outside the walls. They say the Scouts are on their way back to Calaneth; the floor manager said Private Bodt may want to know."

"They're already coming back?" Samuel said, brow furrowed. "Didn't they just leave this morning? Are you sure?"

"I'm borrowing your horse," Celine said, getting to her feet.

Samuel reached out in a feeble manner as Celine sprinted across the room.

"Celine!"

No answer came. Celine was gone.

The streets were packed. Celine's course to Calaneth District atop her father's speckled mare, Patches, had been fairly smooth until she passed through the inner gate. As the outer gate of Calaneth came into view, the crowd grew nearly as dense as the streets had been the day Trost was evacuated. There was no sense of panic, but a constant hum of raised voices could be heard in the distance toward the main road.

"Move!" Celine shouted.

Patches let out displeased grunts; more than a few times Celine had to dismount to urge the horse forward. It took nearly half an hour before Celine was finally able to make it along the main road and catch a glimpse of the approaching procession. She was less than a yard away, but the mass was so dense Patches couldn't take another step. Voices rose up around Celine on every side, their tones increasingly hostile.

"Answer us!"

"Commander Erwin!"

"Was this expedition worth it?! Look at how many have died!"

"The Scouts don't even care! Our tax dollars and our lives have been wasted for nothing!"

A harsh whistle cut through the air. Hands were clapped over ears as shouts turned to curses. Members of the crowd found the source of the whistle to be a blonde woman on horseback using the front of her jacket to wipe the spit off her fingers.

"All of you disperse before I arrest you for inciting a riot!" Celine barked. The order was met with scoffs and no one moving a muscle. Celine may've been a figure with an air of authority, but she was vastly outnumbered.

Celine let out a quiet curse. Her eyes roved over the crowd. Luck appeared on her side when she happened to spot a distinctive beard.

"Ah! Mr. Theo Hardgrove," Celine said.

The man in question flinched. There was an unlikely chance he recalled the soldier of the Engineering Corps who used to sign off on his shipments of rations. Conversely, Celine had been taught at an early age to keep a tab on each and every supplier one does business with.

"You're a man of the town," Celine said. "I'm sure you could tell me the names of most of the people gathered here. Let's get a list going, and maybe we can negotiate you having a reduced prison sentence once everyone here has been tracked down."

Celine's claim of Mr. Hardgrove being a 'man of the people' appeared to ring true when a fair chunk of those gathered seemed to have somewhere else very pressing to be. The few who didn't have a problem defying the Military Police – especially one who appeared unarmed – hit Celine with glares and spit in her horse's path. Celine passed them by without a glance as she was finally able to make her way through the throng and join the somber parade of Scout soldiers. The front of the group had moved on as Celine addressed the crowd; Patches was urged into a gallop until she reached her target.

"You and I both know," Hange said, her voice hollow as Celine settled beside her. "You don't have the authority to arrest anyone."

Celine placed a hand on Hange's shoulder. Part of it was in comfort, another part was confirming she was actually there and not a hope-induced illusion on Celine's part.

"I should feel slighted that's what you have to say to me in greeting," Celine said. "However, the fact that you're alive to say anything at all leaves me in too good of a mood to care."

Celine looked over her shoulder, scanning faces in search of another familiar figure. The dejected expressions which met her were heartbreaking. Most of the soldiers were nursing an injury; a limb or a part of their face wrapped in bandages. A sinking feeling grew in her stomach until she finally spotted her mark.

Moblit was a few feet back, speaking softly with one of the cart drivers as he led a horse that wasn't the same as the black mare he'd rode out on that morning. He met Celine's gaze and returned her nod. The tension in Celine's shoulders relaxed. She returned her attention to the woman at her side.

"Hange," Celine said, voice soft. "Why are you all back so soon? What happened?"

"Not now, Celine."

Celine tightened her grip on the reins. She didn't speak another word, riding silently at Hange's side the entire way back to Wall Sina.