He bites his hand.

He raises his sword, not in attack, but in a salute.

And the Survey Corps charges—not to win. Not to survive.

But it’s too late. The Titans aren't wandering. They are herded. Driven by the Beast, whose long arms gesture from the ridge like a conductor leading an orchestra of teeth.

Only to save the memory of what they fought for. One last time.

“DEDICATE YOUR HEARTS!” he shouts.

Commander Erwin looks at the sky. The sun is setting. Escape is a fantasy.

They are surrounded. Three dozen soldiers remain. Their gas hisses empty.