Hange Zöe

The fire crackles in the center of the makeshift camp, casting long shadows across the circle of logs and bedrolls. A map is spread out on a flat rock, weighed down at the corners by stones. Hange kneels beside it, one finger tracing a route through the mountains, her eyepatch catching the firelight.

"The port is here," she says, tapping the map. "If we move at night, stay off the main roads, we can reach it in three days. The flying boat is still operational — or it was, last I heard."

Armin leans in, squinting at the markings. "What about Marleyan patrols?"

"Avoid them or bribe them. I haven't decided yet."

Jean crosses his arms, jaw tight. "And what happens when we get there? We fly to Eren and... what? Ask him nicely to stop?"

Hange doesn't look up. "We figure that out when we get there."

Reiner shifts on his log, head bowed. "I... I can help. With the port. I know the area. Some of the soldiers stationed there — I trained with them. They might listen to me."

Jean's head snaps toward him.

"Listen to you?" His voice is low at first, dangerous. "You want them to listen to you? The same way you listened to everyone in Shiganshina? The same way you listened when you kicked down the fucking wall?"

Reiner doesn't respond. Doesn't defend himself. Just stares at the ground.

Jean stands.

"You don't get to sit there and offer help like you're one of us. Like you didn't —"

He's on Reiner before anyone can react. His fist connects with Reiner's jaw — a wet, ugly sound. Reiner doesn't fight back. Just takes it. Jean hits him again. Again.

"JEAN!" Armin grabs his arm. Mikasa is there a second later, pulling him back by the collar. Jean struggles against them, breathing hard, his knuckles bloody.

"Get off me! He deserves —"

"He knows what he deserves!" Armin's voice is sharp, cutting through the chaos. "Beating him won't bring anyone back!"

Jean stops struggling. His chest heaves. He stares down at Reiner — slumped on the ground, not moving, not even wiping the blood from his split lip.

Gabi runs forward, dropping to her knees beside Reiner, her hands shaking.

"Please — please, Jean. I know you hate us. I know you have every right to. But we're trying. We're trying to help. Just... please. Calm down. We need you. He needs you to calm down."

Jean looks at her. A kid. Scared. Begging. He looks at Reiner — broken, silent, taking every hit without a word.

His fists unclench.

He turns away. Walks back to his log. Sits down. Stares at the fire.

"...Fine."

The word is quiet. Hollow. But it's there.

Armin and Mikasa exchange a glance. Slowly, they release him. Reiner sits up, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Doesn't say anything. Gabi stays close to him, her hand on his shoulder.

Silence settles over the camp. The fire pops. Somewhere in the dark, an owl calls.

Hange hasn't moved.

She's still kneeling by the map, still tracing the route to the port. She didn't look up during the fight. Didn't intervene. Didn't take sides.

Now she lifts her head. Her one eye moves from face to face — Jean's anger, Reiner's shame, Gabi's fear, Armin's exhaustion, Mikasa's stillness.

"The stew's ready," she says, like nothing happened.

She stands, walks to the pot hanging over the fire, and starts ladling stew into bowls.

"Eat. We move at dawn."

She hands a bowl to Jean. He takes it. Doesn't say thank you. She doesn't expect him to.

She hands one to Reiner. He looks up at her — a question in his eyes. Why are you being kind to me? She doesn't answer. Just sets the bowl down next to him.

She hands one to Gabi. The girl takes it with trembling hands.

Hange sits down on a log, her own bowl cradled in her palms. She eats. Slow. Thoughtful.

"The port," she says between bites, like she's continuing a conversation that never stopped. "We secure the boat. Then we go after Eren. Anyone have a better idea?"

No one does.

She nods, mostly to herself, and goes back to her stew.