The tunnels were quiet. Marco, Reiner, and Bertholdt passed between areas of flickering torchlight amid nothing more than the sound of soft footfalls. Reiner strained his neck to look down every passing tunnel – searching for movement within the darkness.

"Hold on a minute," Marco said.

Reiner and Bertholdt came to a stop. They watched as Marco backtracked a few feet, crouching beside the wall. He ran a finger over the stone, brow furrowing as he studied something.

"What is that?" Bertholdt asked.

"Directions," Marco said.

"Makes sense," Reiner said. He looked about in apprehension. "It's like a maze down here. I can imagine it being difficult to navigate."

The tunnels are much larger than I imagined, Reiner thought. A frown touched his features. Even though we should be headed toward the courthouse, we haven't passed a single guard. You would think–

Reiner's eyes widened. He slowly turned his head to regard Marco. There was now a chunk of stone at Marco's feet which hadn't been there before. The stone must've come from the wall, leaving a gap which Marco was now reaching into.

"Oi," Reiner said, a trace of alarm in his voice. "Marco. What–?"

Marco yanked back his arm. There was a glimpse of a cord in his palm, which was all Reiner could make out before something exploded down the tunnel.

A cloud of dust rushed in their direction, stifling the torches along the walls and coating everything it touched in a thick layer of gray. Reiner quickly stepped around a corner, Bertholdt blindly stumbling to his side a moment after. Both boys coughed as their vision grew cloudy and dust threatened to fill their lungs.

He knew.

Marco knew. Marco had known something was off. Their gamble had failed.

"Come on!" Reiner said. He grabbed Bertholdt's arm, yanking him down the side tunnel.

"Where does this head to?" Bertholdt asked.

"No idea," Reiner said. "This was a trap – we need to head to the surface the first chance we get. There will be a commotion as people try to assess the situation. Brush yourself off and we'll blend in."

"We can't go up there!" Bertholdt said, coming to a stop. "What about finding Annie?"

"Annie was aware of the risks," Reiner said. He used his wrist to wipe away at the dust he could feel caked over his cheek. "We'll continue as planned – capture Eren and head south. I'm sure Zeke is still waiting for us there since we haven't sent word."

"We can't just leave her!" Bertholdt said, distressed. "Come on – one of these tunnels must lead to where she is."

"If Annie is a true warrior," Reiner said. "She'll do what needs to be done once she knows our attempt failed."

Bertholdt grew still. It was an indication he'd picked up what Reiner was hinting at - Annie in a cramped, dark cell. Her nimble fingers tying together bedsheets. The material being hung between bars, Annie putting her head through the noose before taking a step off a short table. Pale toes dangling, pointing to the ground as if she were an aerial ballerina.

"No!"

The distance between Reiner and Bertholdt grew as the latter backed away. Bertholdt gripped the front of his shirt, gasping as if his thoughts were doing more to choke him than the dust ever could.

"We won't," Bertholdt said. "We won't leave Annie."

Reiner hardened his expression. His hand snapped forward to grip Bertholdt by the front of his jacket. He waited until Bertholdt looked up to hold the steadfast gaze being leveled at him. There was something there Reiner didn't recognize. It was the second time he had seen that look.

First Trost. And now …

"Our mission is our first priority," Reiner said. His eyes narrowed. "Annie would know this; do you?"

Bertholdt grit his teeth.

"Reiner! Bertholdt!"

The pair whipped about. Coming around the mouth of the tunnel was Marco – his figure nearly covered from head-to-toe in dust. His left sleeve had been torn off in a crude fashion. The scratches along his arm gave the impression he'd been pinned under debris and had only now succeeded in pulling himself free.

Marco leaned against the wall, pulling down the front of his shirt which had been used to cover the lower half of his face. He took slow, deep gulps of air before looking up.

"You guys!" Marco said. He straightened, moving forward in a cautious fashion. "You guys didn't get hurt by that, right?"

Reiner paused. His lips stretched into a thin line. "Marco," he said, the name sticking to his tongue. "What did you do?"

. . .

Reiner's question was like a jab to the gut. Marco couldn't hold his gaze, looking away out of guilt.

"I knew you guys were lying to me," Marco said. "Although … not about everything, I don't think. I want to hear you guys out. I just … can't take the risk of not going through with the Commander's plan."

Erwin knew from the beginning Annie wasn't acting alone. He also knew at one point or another her allies would attempt to reach her – whether it be for a rescue or an assassination.

The leak about where Annie was being held was intentional. So was the rumor there would be a trial for her in the near future. The trial was a fabricated notion – taking Annie above the surface would be too much of a risk. The idea had been planted to pressure her cohorts into action. The plan shared with a select number of soldiers had been the following:

Lead any suspect persons down a specific route among the tunnels. Locate a planted charge and pull the trigger blocking the exit. Soldiers assigned around the area will be alerted to corner and contain the enemy. On the chance this fails, another charge can be pulled to block the enemy underground entirely. This option was less ideal; it could take up to a week to clear the rubble, and corpses didn't provide nearly as much intel.

'For those of you who would pull the charges,' Erwin had said, his voice steady. 'There's a chance more likely than not you won't survive. Ask yourself if you're willing to give everything to take us a step closer toward the answers we've been searching for.'

I'm willing to make that sacrifice.

Marco's heart sank as he regarded the comrades he's spent years fighting beside:

Hands had been clasped to help each other up treacherous terrain. Loafs of bread had been split to make sure no one was hungry. Bertholdt had checked every few hours to confirm Marco was taking his medicine the time he'd come down with a cold. A tear to Marco's cloak one day had led to the discovery Reiner was quite talented at sewing – a topic they had discussed in some length when Marco shared his mother's affinity for embroidery.

I'm willing to make that sacrifice …

Marco lifted his chin.

But I'm not willing to sacrifice them – not if they really have changed to our side.

"The two of you are also Titans, aren't you?" Marco asked. "Something … something happened which made it hard for me to remember. I thought I'd dreamt the conversation I overheard for a while. But it's true, isn't it?"

"It is."

Marco surmised the look of shock on Bertholdt's face nearly reflected his own as they both regarded Reiner. Reiner didn't appear shaken in the slightest as he continued.

"I'm the Armored Titan," Reiner said, placing a hand on his chest. He gestured to the side. "Bertholdt here is the Colossal Titan. I apologize for not telling you before – I was afraid you wouldn't see us the same if you knew."

Why do I feel ..?

It was as if Marco had been carrying a heavy gear pack that'd been lifted from his shoulders.

I'm not angry, or scared. I'm … so relieved. That divide between us wasn't part of my imagination. And it had nothing to do with me or anything I did. The two of them … they're just …

"We made a decision on the day you overheard us in Trost, Marco," Reiner said. "Our options were to risk being discovered, captured, and tortured … or leave you to die. Everything was put on the line so you could live. Tell me, Marco – can you put the same faith in us as we have in you?"

There was a shout. The tunnel ahead split into three directions, voices echoing from the right. A sense of urgency grew in Reiner's voice.

"Things are different now, Marco," he said. "We don't want to hurt our friends … Help us get to Annie, and I'll prove to you where our loyalties lie."

There wasn't time for Marco to give an answer. Five soldiers rounded the corner, raising their rifles as they took in the small group.

"Hold on!" Marco said. He raised his hands, Reiner and Bertholdt following suit. "They're not …"

The words slipped away. There was a tremor to Marco's hands.

"On your knees!" one of the soldiers barked. Her voice caused Marco to snap out of his trance.

"The scales are tipping!" Marco shouted. "The scales are tipping to the iron-clad eagle!"

Reiner and Bertholdt dared to look away from the rifles being brandished in their face to regard Marco as if he'd lost his mind. They watched as Marco relaxed and lowered his hands. The sound of shuffling caught their attention – their eyes tracking the rifles now being lowered to the soldiers' sides.

"What happened here?" asked the same woman from before.

"We were approached by suspicious individuals," Marco said. "There were four of them dressed in casual attire. I pulled the charge, but we weren't able to keep them from escaping. We were chasing them down the hall to your back when your group intercepted us."

"Got it," the woman said. She turned to her squad. "Let's go! Keep your weapons raised and be on alert!" She and the other Military Police soldiers turned on their heels to sprint down the middle corridor. It wasn't until the sound of footfalls faded did Marco speak.

"It's to the left – follow me."

The trio broke into a run. Reiner caught up to Marco in a few quick strides.

"Thank you, Marco."

"We need to be cautious," Marco said. He made another sharp left down a side tunnel. Adrenalin pounded through his veins. Each passing step increased his urge to keep running; to run until his lungs lined with dust couldn't take it anymore. To run away from the feeling like he was drowning.

"There will be more soldiers stationed around Annie's cell."

"We'll handle it," Reiner said.

"No one needs to get hurt," Marco said. "I'll think of a distraction. Take my direction and we'll be fine."

"I admire your assurance," Reiner said. His mouth tilted up in a smile. "There's a reason they made you squad leader."

I never thought I deserved it, Marco thought. He coughed, the wheezing nature to his breath returning.

Am I any better, even now?

As he surmised, seven soldiers filled the corridor around the door leading down to Annie's cell. They'd heard the approaching footfalls, rifles lifted at the ready as Marco and the two Scout soldiers at his back rounded the corner.

"Wait!" a man from the left said. "I recognize that one – the kid in the middle with the freckles. We were in the same briefing room."

Marco took a rattling breath. "The scales … the scales are …"

"The scales are tipping to the iron-clad eagle," Reiner said. He kept his stern expression as the soldiers lowered their rifles.

Marco coughed. He frowned at the gray blob on his sleeve before raising his eyes. "We were ambushed by a group trying to get to the prisoner." He glanced over the guard detail that appeared to be made up of an equal mix and Military Police and Scout soldiers. Their steadfast expressions caused a twisting feeling in his chest.

"Commander Erwin has penned a written proposal for the prisoner to review," Marco continued. "It includes an offer of clemency if she cooperates and tells us where we can find the spies' hideout. Commander Erwin ordered us to deliver this to her right away, so please let us through."

The soldiers exchanged unsteady glances. Something was wrong. Marco's stomach sank like a stone as it became clear he'd made a grave misstep.

Reiner approached one of the Scout soldiers standing toward the front of the group. The soldier was a stocky man with a thin mustache, and like most members of the Scout Regiment who survived more than one mission, appeared heavily prepared. An extra rifle had been strapped to his back in addition to the one he had in hand. Two knives roughly the size of machetes hung on his hips in place of ODM gear. The rather intimidating exterior was countered when a spark of recognition caused the man to relax.

"Branstrong, right?" Reiner asked, placing a hand on the shorter man's shoulder.

"That's right," the man known as Branstrong said. "You're one of the new recruits who went on the last mission with us, yeah? This message from the Commander … explain to me how you came about it."

"There!" Reiner said, his eyes snapping to the other end of the corridor. "Behind you!"

Heads whipped about. It was at this point Reiner slipped a knife from Branstrong's belt and drove it under its owner's jaw.

Branstrong fell forward with a weak gurgle. A fluid motion resulted in Reiner tossing the rifle sliding from Branstrong's grip to Bertholdt while he shifted Branstrong around, using the man's shoulder as a means to rest the barrel of the rifle still strapped to his back.

Reiner hadn't placed second in his class for nothing. Like most of his talents, his marksmanship was impeccable. Two soldiers dropped to the ground before the rest realized the assault was coming from behind. Reiner used Branstrong's body as a shield against resulting gunfire as he pushed forward, diving to scoop up the discarded rifle of a Military Police soldier whose skull had been nearly blown in two.

For a moment Reiner looked down the barrel of a rifle in his face. This was until the man holding the gun fell to the side from a shot that sliced through his arm.

The three soldiers left standing were distracted long enough by Bertholdt's shot to leave themselves open when Reiner took aim. The first took a bullet through the chest. A Scout soldier fired a round at Bertholdt, her aim thrown off by the body of her comrade toppling on top of her. She regained her balance in time to stare in shock as Reiner shot her between the eyes.

"What are you doing?!"

Marco tackled Reiner from behind. He was successful in flinging the rifle from Reiner's grasp, but found himself pinned against the wall when Reiner jolted back.

Another shot rang through the air. The last soldier of the guard detail had broken into a run in the opposite direction. Bertholdt had fired at their back, but the bullet missed its mark as the soldier ducked. They ran around a corner, disappearing from sight.

"Reiner …"

Marco shifted his hold to place Reiner in a headlock and cut off his airway. He squeezed with all his might, red stripes appearing over his bare arm as Reiner dug his fingernails through Marco's flesh. Marco was well aware Reiner wouldn't be able to make a sound more than a gag in this state. It didn't stop him from the need to voice the question filling his consciousness.

"Reiner," Marco said, his voice shaking. "Why …? Why would you do this?"

Marco was struck across the cheekbone by a butt of a rifle. The back of his head banged against the wall. His grip on Reiner loosened as the world began to spin.

"Ah!"

Reiner coughed, rubbing his neck. He met Bertholdt's worried expression with a steady stare. "Thanks," he said, voice hoarse. His sharp gaze danced over the bodies in the corridor. "Help me find something to restrain him."

Bertholdt studied Reiner with a furrow to his brow. "You're not going to kill him?"

"We need him now," Reiner said. "There's someone who can identify us – there's no longer an opportunity to talk things out with Eren. He may not listen unless we have a way to make him."

Marco was shoved to his knees. Bertholdt had found a rifle strap, tying Marco's wrists together tight enough to nearly cut off his circulation.

"You two …" Marco dipped his head, wheezing. "… You two can still turn yourselves over."

"And you would forgive us?" Reiner asked, rubbing his neck. "You amaze me, Marco. I've never encountered someone so naive in my life. Even Sasha knew better when we cornered her; she played helpless long enough to almost stab me in the heart. Bertholdt catching her and holding her down was the only reason I'm here now and she isn't. Unlike you, she was a true soldier who led with logic instead of feeling."

. . .

Marco slowly turned his head. Berthold noted the color had drained from his face, brown eyes stark against his skin as he looked up at Reiner.

"Sasha …?" he croaked. "You … killed Sasha?"

"It was an unfortunate coincidence she'd been assigned to deliver our background reports to HQ," Reiner said. "We actually came across her by chance as we helped survey for Titans within Wall Rose. Her bag going missing would've raised more questions than Sasha disappearing all together. We never mentioned running into her, and her name got written among the dozens of others still MIA."

'Wow, am I relieved to see you two.'

Sasha had beamed when she'd spotted Reiner and Bertholdt riding up to meet her. She had urged her own horse into a gallop down the side of a rolling hill until she'd been close enough to offer her greeting. That carefree smile still drifted through Bertholdt's mind at times unannounced; so did the image of her still figure floating facedown in a pond, brown hair coiling around the algae.

Is he telling Marco this … Bertholdt thought, watching Reiner pull Marco to his feet.

… because he feels guilty?

"Come on," Reiner said. He watched in silence as Bertholdt swung one rifle over his shoulder and finished loading another he had in hand.

Bertholdt reached for the door handle, locking eyes with Reiner and exchanging a nod before swinging the door wide.