Annie kept walking, not answering right away.
Then she said, almost grudgingly, "Orders."
Meeyn grinned to himself. Figures.
Still, he decided to push a little more — but gently. Playful.
"You always follow orders so perfectly?" he asked, voice half-joking.
Annie didn't answer. But Meeyn caught the faintest twitch of her mouth — not quite a smile, but close.
Progress.
They moved closer to the main retreating force — civilians and soldiers alike, rushing toward the gate.
Annie slowed slightly, keeping pace with him.
"You know," Meeyn said lightly, "if you're trying to get rid of me, you're doing a terrible job. I'm starting to think you actually enjoy my company."
That earned him a small, almost invisible smile from Annie. It was gone in a flash, but Meeyn saw it as his eyes are quite sharp after getting knull's power.
They reached the gate, soldiers barking orders, civilians crying, carts overturning in the mad scramble to get through.
Annie pulled ahead slightly, clearing a path. Meeyn followed, sticking close.
"Stay close," Annie said over her shoulder.
"Wasn't planning on leaving," Meeyn answered easily.
And just like that, he slipped through the breach alongside them — blending into the flood of humanity pouring into Wall Rose.
Behind them, the Titans howled in frustration, unable to breach the last line of defense.
Meeyn's red-tinted eyes flicked upward briefly, watching the gate swing shut.
He smiled to himself.
Step one complete.
Now... let's see how deep this rabbit hole goes.
The evacuation inside Wall Rose was brutal, but orderly. The civilians were hurried deeper into the interior by barking soldiers. The wounded were dragged off toward makeshift triage centers. Only garrison units and selected Survey Corps members stayed near the gate now — the wall's defenders, holding the line.
Annie slowed to a stop near one of the staging areas, boots scuffing against the stone. She turned slightly.
"You should go with them," she said curtly, jerking her head toward the retreating civilians.
Meeyn just smiled faintly, hands still tucked in his pockets. "No thanks. I'll stick with you."
Annie frowned. "Don't be stupid. Civilians aren't allowed here."
"You really think I'm the type to follow the rules?" Meeyn asked lazily.
For a moment, Annie looked like she was going to argue. But she didn't. She just turned away, muttering under her breath, "Do whatever you want."
He stayed close, blending in just enough not to draw immediate attention.
But luck had its limits.
Within minutes, a cluster of Garrison soldiers stormed over — helmets dented, armor scratched, swords still bloodied. Their expressions were tight.
"You!" one barked, jabbing a finger toward Meeyn.
Meeyn didn't flinch. "Yeah?"
Another snapped. "Orders from up top — everyone who witnessed that—" the soldier's voice dropped low, furious, "Eren Yeager — is under a gag order. Come with us."
Several soldiers spread out, forming a loose ring around him. Annie said nothing. She watched quietly, arms crossed.
(A/n - A gag order, also known as a suppression order, is a court order that restricts an individual or group from publicly discussing or commenting on a specific topic, often related to ongoing legal proceedings. The purpose is typically to prevent the dissemination of potentially prejudicial information and ensure a fair trial. )
He could have resisted. They couldn't stop him if he didn't want them to.
But instead, Meeyn just shrugged.
"Sure," he said, almost cheerfully. "Lead the way."
The soldiers, slightly thrown off by his easy compliance, quickly moved to bind his hands — not roughly, but firmly. Protocol.
Annie glanced at him once as he was led away. Briefly.
Meeyn smiled faintly at her — a secretive, knowing smile — and let them march him down the crumbling streets toward a holding center near the wall's base.
But none of that concerned him.
He had his reasons for playing the helpless prisoner.
They threw him into the cell without much ceremony. The door clanged shut behind him, iron bolts sliding into place.
The room was small — barely wide enough to stretch his arms — with rough stone walls slick from condensation. A single narrow window high up on the wall let in a thin beam of dying sunlight, painting a sharp line across the floor.
In one corner, a pair of candles flickered weakly on a metal stand, their light casting long, distorted shadows.
Meeyn stood still for a moment, taking it all in.
Then, calmly, he moved to the window. With a casual swipe of his hand, he blocked the beam of light by pulling a ragged old sheet across it, wedging it into the cracks of the stone. The cell plunged into deeper gloom.
The two candles still sputtered weakly, fighting back the dark.
Meeyn turned toward the bars, leaning slightly.
"Oi," he called lazily to the nearest guard slouched on a chair outside. "Blow those candles out, will you? Too bright."
The guard, a bored-looking man with thinning hair, looked up and snorted. "What, you scared of the dark, kid?"
Meeyn just smiled faintly, that same lazy, unconcerned look on his face. "Just prefer it. Helps me think."
The guard rolled his eyes. "Tch. Whatever."
He got up with a grunt, stomped over, and with two quick puffs of breath, extinguished both candles.
Instantly, the room fell into almost complete darkness — only the faintest hints of twilight leaking around the edges of the sheet.
Meeyn sat down against the wall, folding one leg over the other, eyes closed.
Meeyn sat motionless in the darkness, his senses slowly sharpening. The cold stone against his back, the faint drip of water somewhere in the distance, and the faint hum of distant activity from outside the cell — all of it became background noise to his mind.
His eyes, still closed. He had discovered something new recently.
He had learned to focus on shadows. It had started as a vague sensation — the shifting of light, the pull of darkness. But now, with careful concentration, he had refined it. He could extend his awareness into the shadows, like a hand feeling its way through the darkness. It wasn't perfect, far from it, but it was enough to gain glimpses of the world beyond his immediate surroundings.