The holding corridor was colder than it should've been. Stone walls. Heavy shadows. The thick, hollow sound of boots echoing up and down the passage as Military Police prepared for the hearing above. Eren sat hunched in the corner, shackled and dressed in a fresh but rough-spun uniform. His skin crawled beneath it. His body ached. But nothing compared to the buzz beneath his sternum—like a hive of hornets had nested in his ribs.
He kept still. But his eyes kept drifting toward the end of the hall. Toward her.
Captain Dalca.
He didn't know why, but he couldn't forget her. The way she moved. The way her eyes had burned into him. Not monstrous. Not titan-like.
Just... final.
Like she didn't kill because she had to. She killed because the world had once made her choose—and now it never got a second chance.
"Hey… Hange?" He kept his voice low, casting a glance toward the passing MPs.
Hange leaned in immediately, grinning like they'd been waiting for this question.
"Is it true?" he asked. "That red-eyed woman… she's called the White Death?"
Hange inhaled like they were about to launch into song. "Ahhhh, her."
Their whole body practically vibrated with barely-contained energy.
"Captain Beatrice Dalca. Garrison's golden monster."
Eren blinked. "But she's… Garrison?"
"Oh, sweetheart," Hange chuckled. "She runs the Garrison."
Eren's mouth opened slightly. "How…?"
"Strength. Precision. Blind rage. Who knows?" Hange shrugged. "She's terrifying. In the best way."
And then—more quietly, like sharing a secret.
"You should see her with Levi."
That caught Eren off guard. "What?"
"A former member of the Survey corps. They don't even talk. They just move. Like a dance. Of violence. And… affection! Kind of. Maybe. It's complicated."
Eren furrowed his brow.
"Wait—are they… like… together?"
Hange gasped dramatically, leaned in conspiratorially.
"No one knows. No one. But I have a theory involving a cravat, a garden bench, and three separate disciplinary reports."
"…What?"
"Focus on your trial," Hange chirped, suddenly chipper again. "You're gonna need every ounce of composure you have left."
Eren leaned back slowly, utterly lost.
What the hell did I just walk into?
The courtroom was full. Nobles, commanders, MPs, clergymen. Some sat stiff with hatred. Others with curiosity. All of them looked at Eren like he was an animal behind glass.
He stood in the centre, cuffs binding his wrists and ankles. Every eye watched him. Judged him. And his heart was pounding. So hard it hurt.
The chamber doors opened. And everything shifted. Not because of noise. But because of the silence.
Captain Beatrice Dalca entered. She didn't storm in. She moved. Every step was purposeful. Controlled. She wasn't a warrior in that moment—she was a blade in a sheath, carried by her own spine. Her uniform was pristine. Her swords gleamed under the chamber lights.
And those eyes. Red. Unblinking. They swept the room once.
Measured every general. Every noble. Every twitching mouth was trying to look brave.
And the room—stilled. Even the judge straightened in his seat. A few whispered her name like an omen. Others didn't dare speak. Beatrice said nothing. Didn't even glance at Eren. She stood beside Levi without a word, arms crossed. Like a statue waiting to come alive.
Then Levi stepped forward.
"He's not your enemy," he said flatly.
"But if he becomes one—I'll put him down myself."
The room buzzed. Murmurs. Fear. Approval.
The judge sat back slightly, unreadable.
Beatrice? Still silent. Still unmoved. But the air around her crackled with pressure.
Eren didn't understand it. He couldn't describe it. But he knew one thing— If Levi was a sword, she was the one who trained the hand that held it.
The silence stretched.
Then, "The subject known as Eren Yeager," the judge announced, "will be placed under direct surveillance by the Scout Regiment."
A pause.
"He will be studied in controlled conditions... under the joint command of Captain Levi Ackerman—"
Eyes shifted.
"—and Captain Beatrice Dalca of the Garrison."
A longer pause. That name wasn't expected. Gasps. Then hush.
Eren turned, confused. She didn't react. Neither did Levi. They just stood there.
Unflinching.
Two pillars holding up the weight of a war that only they seemed ready for.
And Eren?
He suddenly understood what fear of silence felt like.
After the verdict, the MPs unchained Eren slowly, still glaring at him like he might explode. He took one cautious step forward. And caught it.
That look.
From Beatrice. It wasn't long. But it was total. Not cold. Not angry. Just—final. Like if she ever had to kill him, she would do it without a word. Not out of hate. But because she'd made that choice before.
He looked at Levi. Then back at her.
Those two don't just command fear, he thought. They command fate.
And now? Now he was walking into the storm, they walked into together.
Whatever it was.
Whatever it meant.
And no one—not even Hange—was going to explain it.