Reincarnated In Attack On Titan World As Nobody

The morning fog was so thick it swallowed the castle grounds whole, the world reduced to shadows and the rhythm of footsteps breaking through the mist.

A lone figure pushed forward, boots striking the ground in steady rhythm. Lock's breath came quick but measured, his chest rising and falling with the controlled cadence of someone who had long since learned how to endure. He had joined Levi's squad only yesterday, yet his habits hadn't changed.

Running had always been his foundation.

My stamina's fine… but it's hard to push any further right now.

Lock knew his limits better than anyone. If he wanted to keep improving, he would need to run ten kilometers, maybe more. That kind of indulgence had been possible back in training camp, under Klaus's watchful eye, but the Survey Corps wasn't as forgiving. Here, his time belonged to the squad. Long, reckless runs would only clash with official drills and missions.

No… this is enough. Anything more would just waste time.

He'd considered weight training once, but at fourteen his body was still growing. Pushing too hard would only damage what he was trying to build. Better to strengthen steadily within his limits than cripple himself chasing shortcuts.

Still, discipline mattered. Neglect even a few days, and strength slips away. He wasn't a machine. He was flesh, blood, and determination.

The mist shifted, and with it came a faint chime — not real, not external, but something only he could hear.

[Willpower +1. Perception +1.]

Lock didn't so much as flinch. That strange inner voice had been with him long enough to feel natural now. His vision sharpened as if the fog had thinned just for him. He smiled faintly.

"With mornings like this every day, my eyes will never dull again."

Shaking the sweat from his brow, he turned toward the castle. The stone walls loomed ahead, familiar now, the scent of warm bread and stew drifting into the fog. The smell hit his stomach like a punch, and hunger surged.

At the kitchen doorway, he paused. Petra was there, sleeves rolled, moving gracefully from pot to pan. She wasn't trying to hide her presence, so she noticed his approach immediately.

"Lock?" She blinked, surprised by the sight of him drenched in sweat. "What on earth were you doing out there?"

"Nothing special," he said lightly, stepping inside. "Just training in the square for a couple hours. Smells amazing, though." His eyes drifted toward the breadbasket almost against his will.

Before his hand could snatch a piece, Petra's palm swatted him back. She smiled gently but her tone left no room for argument. "Shower. Now. You're not touching anything I cook while you look like that."

Lock raised both hands in surrender, grinning despite his hunger. "Fine, fine. I'll be quick."

True to his word, he was back in under five minutes, hair damp, clothes clean, face bright with cold water. Petra blinked at him in open surprise.

"That fast?"

But Lock was already at the table, tearing into the bread with a hunger he no longer tried to hide.

Petra sat beside him, chin resting in her hand, watching as he devoured the meal she had prepared. A soft smile curved her lips. Seeing someone eat her cooking with such satisfaction filled her with quiet pride.

But it wasn't just the food. She couldn't ignore the boy himself — up before dawn, training until sweat drenched him, driven in a way most adults would envy. At fourteen, he was already valued by commanders and whispered about by peers. Strength like his didn't appear out of nowhere. It was carved out through work most people would never see.

No wonder he's different, Petra thought. Everything he has, he earned.

The room stayed quiet save for the scrape of spoons and Lock's steady chewing, but neither of them minded the silence. For him, hunger drowned out conversation. For her, watching him eat was enough.

It was a strangely comfortable moment… until the others arrived.

The door banged open and Oluo's voice carried in first, loud as always. Elder and Gunther followed behind, their laughter rising as they caught the smell from the kitchen.

"Petra, you've outdone yourself again," Elder said with a grin, already reaching for a seat.

They dug in eagerly, ly, their noisy arrival shattering the calm. Soon after, Levi appeared last, silent as a shadow. His expression didn't change, but the faintest hint of approval flickered in his eyes at the aroma filling the room. He sat, back straight, and began to eat without a word

By then, Lock had already finished, pushing his empty plate away with quiet satisfaction. His gaze drifted across the table — Petra sipping her porridge in delicate bites, Oluo still boasting between mouthfuls, Levi eating with mechanical precision. His eyes lingered on Petra a moment longer.

She didn't look it, but she was one of the squad's strongest. Second only to Levi and, in terms of Titan kills, ahead of Oluo. A warrior wrapped in gentleness. The contrast fascinated him.

He almost spoke, but Levi's voice cut through the air before he could.

"Eat quickly. In a few days, we ride out again."

The warmth drained from the room at once. Forks stilled. Chairs creaked. The unspoken weight of Levi's words pressed on all of them.

Outside, the fog had begun to lift. Inside, silence took its place.

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