Okay!
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Location: Military Tribunal, Military Kingdom of Marley
Year: 851
Time: Early Spring
If you were to ask Commander Theo Magath of the Warrior Unit about his greatest failure, you might expect him to speak of lost battles, of soldiers fallen on the frontlines of foreign wars.
But if you pressed him, he'd probably say:
"Not convincing the brass to send another expedition to Paradis the moment the main Warrior unit failed to report back."
It gnawed at him.
It was worse than those white flags waving over the ruins of the southern territories.
If he had pushed harder...
If he had trained them differently, not just in killing, but in hiding, blending in with different societies, surviving...
Maybe... maybe...
Magath kept his face blank as his gaze drifted to the three standing in the centre of the tribunal floor.
Annie Leonhart, Pieck Finger, Reiner Braun.
All that remained.
All that was left of the kids he had watched grow up, weaponized, honed into tools.
They looked small under the vaulted ceiling of the tribunal hall, dwarfed by the ornate wood panels and the silent, judging figures seated above them.
Annie stood rigid, arms by her sides, her eyes half-lidded, looking somewhere distant—or nowhere at all.
Pieck seemed casual, her posture relaxed to the point of boredom, but her fingers twitched subtly at her side.
Reiner...
Reiner's face was grim. Enough said.
Magath forced his attention back to the proceedings as the lead officer droned on.
"...failure to complete mission objectives..."
"...capture and control of the Founding Titan..."
"...loss of the Warhammer Titan to enemy forces..."
"...exposure of Marleyan military weaknesses to foreign powers..."
Magath tuned it out.
The court already knew. Everyone knew.
It wasn't just that Paradis had captured the Warrior Unit. It was that they had shattered the illusion of Marley's invincibility.
It was that Paradis had Titans, technology, and even more dangerous knowledge somewhere out there.
Knowledge they'd never meant to let them have.
"..."
The Warhammer was supposed to be the trump card.
The Tyburs had assured the brass that Paradis would crumble like dust. Lara Tybur specifically felt compelled to the point of overconfidence in her abilities to crush the people of Paradis for her family's standing.
And now, even the Tyburs sat here, some in civilian clothes pretending to be 'neutral observers', watching with the same tight, nervous smiles as everyone else.
The world had learned of their defeat not through official channels, but through a leak, a mysterious, damning info-dump sent across several neutral countries, painting Marley as weak, as broken.
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