The world's full of weird coincidences.
Like never winning "one more bottle" on a soda cap.
Or cursing an author and waking up in their story.
Or, say, catching trouble while just lying low.
Rein had been minding his own business, sneaking a peek at the action, when trouble came barreling his way.
Big trouble, too. If he couldn't take on ten at once, his neck was on the line.
Run! No hesitation—he spun and bolted.
Maybe his sprint was too flashy—it instantly caught the Survey Corps squad's eye.
"Titan spotted!" the squad leader bellowed. "Just one!"
Instead of backing off, the team charged after Rein.
"???" Rein's brain short-circuited. "What the hell? Aren't they just scouting? Don't they avoid Titans when they can? What's with the attack mode? Do I look like an easy mark?"
Griping nonstop, his feet didn't stop either.
One fleeing, a pack chasing—in no time, they'd covered over a kilometer.
Rein's eyes lit up as he burst out of the grove. Ahead stretched open grassland, flat and endless.
In terrain like this, maneuver gear was useless. The Wings of Freedom would have to tuck away their proud wings.
Sure enough, the ten pursuers hit the grove's edge, horses snorting in the breeze, and halted.
Out beyond the walls, they wouldn't dare push too far. They'd given up.
Rein exhaled, slowing down, and glanced back.
Both sides faced off, silent for a stretch.
A fresh wind rolled through, ruffling the Survey Corps' cloaks and brushing Rein's "level-three helmet" at his nape.
Suddenly, Rein realized he was standing too normal—too human. He quickly twisted his mouth into a lopsided grimace and shuffled off with a limp.
Two steps in, a chill shot down his spine. He cursed inwardly—oh no! A mindless Titan wouldn't tie a rock to its nape!
This Titan wasn't like the others! That thought hit the ten-man squad like a lightning bolt.
The Survey Corps—every soldier had Titan blood on their blades.
Inside the walls, aside from the top brass, no one knew Titans better than them.
And right now, a freakish, never-before-seen Titan stood in their sights.
Wall expeditions usually stuck to "don't poke the bear," but there were exceptions—like this.
"Take it alive!"
Someone shouted, and the squad surged out of the grove like wild horses, zeroing in on Rein.
The last guy raised a signal gun and fired skyward.
Pop!
A flare screeched up, trailing red smoke in a vivid arc across the sky.
An arrow through the clouds—calling the cavalry!
Rein took off in a dead sprint, scared stiff.
He swore this was his fastest run in 82 days, but he still couldn't shake the squad.
The horses' speed and stamina blew his mind.
The gap was shrinking. At this rate, the Wings of Freedom would catch him soon.
"Gotta figure something out!" he thought.
He scanned around—open terrain, endless, but a forest loomed north.
Sure, the trees favored maneuver gear, but they'd slow the horses.
Horses might be nimble, but could they outmaneuver Rein? A few slick moves, and he'd ditch these clowns.
He locked onto the direction, swerved hard, and bolted north.
Near noon, the sun blazed high.
The flat plains were oddly Titan-free.
"Normally, I can't avoid these brainless lugs. Now there's not a damn one in sight?" Rein groaned.
Behind him, those mad dogs, free of Titan distractions, floored it with reckless abandon.
The signal guy fired another flare into the sky.
Rein kicked it up a notch, spooked.
One guy, one squad—they ran a few more minutes. The gap tightened, but the forest was close.
"Go, go, go!" Psyching himself up, Rein prepped to dive into the trees.
Then, right on cue, a shadow lumbered out of the forest.
A 10-plus-meter Pure Titan.
"Jackpot! My savior!" Rein's heart leapt. With a Titan stirring trouble, he had a 100% shot at escape.
In 80-plus days, he'd never found a mindless Titan this charming.
"Brother, your sacrifice—than—"
Rip!
Thud, thud, thud!
His gratitude cut off as a sharp sound pierced his ears. Two white streaks trailed behind the Titan—and it crashed down.
A green-cloaked figure with twin blades stood triumphant on its corpse.
Wings of Freedom—Survey Corps! Rein's gut sank. This was bad.
Sure enough, more green shadows burst from the trees.
They'd been lying in wait.
The leader? The same captain from the twenty-man crew that rode out earlier.
The signal flares had brought both squads together.
"Son of a—!"
Rein cursed, swerving in a panic. He cut northeast, barreling diagonally into the forest.
The stunned Survey Corps squad gaped after him.
"Captain, you see that?"
"I saw it! A Titan with brains?!" The captain grinned wickedly. "This haul's huge!"
"Take it alive!"
"Yes, sir!!!"
Twenty voices roared as one, echoing through the trees.
In this tangled terrain, they ditched the horses and took to the trees.
Suddenly, the hiss of maneuver gear filled the air—jets firing left and right, like a chorus of doom closing in on Rein's fragile nerves.
This time, he might really be done.
Rein wanted to cry. Today's mess? He'd failed to steal the prize and was about to lose everything.
The forest was a maze—no clear paths. It slowed horses, sure, but it damn well slowed Rein too.
The seasoned Survey Corps, with their slick gear, stuck to him like glue. The speed gap didn't widen—it shrank.
"Slipped up big!" he thought. "And here I am with the god-mode view."
He zigzagged, dodging left and right, barely keeping ahead.
"Gotta get out of these trees! They've got no horses now—hit open ground, and I'm safe!" His mind raced, plotting survival.
But after a few turns, his sense of direction was shot.
Trees everywhere—dense, suffocating. No clue what lay beyond.
Which way out? No idea—he just picked one and ran.
The forest had to end sometime.
"Here's hoping… my luck's not total garbage this time."