Reincarnated In Attack On Titan World As Nobody

After showing his ability in training, Lock's age stopped being a disadvantage. He was accepted into Levi's squad without further resistance. The earlier tension with Oluo quickly faded, replaced by a reluctant respect. Misunderstandings and quarrels weren't enough to leave scars here — in the Survey Corps, strength spoke louder than words.

Lock had proved himself.

At Petra's suggestion, the squad held a simple welcome gathering that night. The meal wasn't anything luxurious — bread, stew, and whatever wine they could sneak past regulations — but the atmosphere was warm enough.

Lock dug in with the appetite of someone who had gone without good food for too long. His plate emptied quickly, and he didn't bother with the pretense of conversation until he was halfway through his second helping.

"Hey, Oluo," he said between bites, "I heard you've taken down five Titans on your own."

The room went a little quiet at that. Oluo froze mid-sip, then glanced at him with an expression caught somewhere between pride and irritation.

"What's the use of raw talent?" he muttered. "You'll learn soon enough that the battlefield isn't training. A rookie like you will piss yourself the moment a Titan stares you down. And for the record—" his lips twisted into a smirk, "I'll wash your socks if I lose again, but don't expect me to touch your underwear."

Lock leaned back and smiled faintly. "The way you describe it, you sound like you've got plenty of experience pissing yourself already."

The jab landed. Oluo stood, chair scraping against the floor. "You want another fight, brat?"

"I wouldn't mind. Maybe this time, we bet on underwear instead of socks."

The squad burst into laughter before Oluo could answer. Elder slapped the table. "Oluo, is this the first time someone's thrown your own words back at you? That's a sight worth celebrating."

"Finally," Gunther added with a grin, "someone who can keep you in check. Lock, I'm with you on this one. Teach him a lesson."

"You traitors," Oluo hissed, sinking back down with a dramatic sigh. He reached for his cup again, muttering, "I've had too much to drink to waste time on a kid."

Lock let the matter drop, more interested in the stew than the bickering. He hadn't eaten like this in weeks. Petra, who had been quiet until now, noticed how quickly he cleaned his plate. Something in her chest tightened. He was only fourteen — too young for war, too young to already carry that kind of hunger.

She decided then that she'd look out for him.

The welcome ended in laughter and full stomachs. Plates were left scattered on the table, crumbs on the floor, cups tipped over, and dripping. That was the scene when the door opened.

Levi stepped inside.

The warmth drained from the room instantly.

"What the hell is this?" His eyes swept the mess, his voice as sharp and cold as the steel of his blades.

Everyone scrambled to their feet. Drunkenness disappeared in an instant.

"Captain," Petra started quickly, "we'll clean it up right away."

"Cleaner than before," Gunther added, standing stiffly.

Levi's expression softened only slightly. He took one step inside, then paused. His gaze shifted to Lock, who hadn't spoken yet. The boy sat straight, meeting his eyes head-on.

"You're here," Levi said flatly.

Lock nodded. "Since the training camp, I've been preparing. Captain, I was hoping—"

"No." Levi cut him off without hesitation. "I don't have the time to entertain you. Clean this place up tonight."

With that, he turned on his heel and left, as if even breathing the same air in the room offended him.

The silence he left behind was almost suffocating.

Oluo broke it first. "You were about to challenge the Captain, weren't you?" His tone carried disbelief.

Lock didn't flinch. "I already sparred with him once. Five hours, and I never landed a finishing blow. But I'll keep trying. One day I'll surpass him."

The squad stared at him.

"Five… hours?" Elder repeated.

"No wonder the Captain ran away," Gunther muttered. "Anyone would."

Petra covered her mouth, eyes wide.

Lock shrugged. "I'd rather be beaten than stop growing stronger."

Oluo rubbed his forehead, exasperated. "You're insane. Do you even know what five hours with the Captain feels like? That's not training, that's suicide."

"Better suicide than standing still," Lock replied calmly.

The others exchanged looks. For the first time, Oluo had no snappy retort. He just sighed, muttering under his breath about fools who didn't value their lives.

Before long, they set about cleaning, restoring the common room to spotless order for Levi. Afterward, while the others went to rest, Lock lingered outside, still moving through drills under the moonlight.

From a window above, Petra caught a glimpse of him leaping and twisting with the vertical maneuvering gear, repeating motions over and over without pause.

Oluo saw it too. He shook his head. "No way I'm sparring with him again. Five hours? I'd rather face a Titan."

No one disagreed.

Lock's determination was something beyond stubbornness. It was the kind of fire that could burn itself out — or light the way forward.

And for the first time, Levi's squad wondered which it would be.

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