Year 854:

Another year came and went, bringing with it many cherished memories, perfect moments, and equal parts hope and trepidation for the future. Part of that hope was founded from the advancements that Paradis had made as a whole, recently.

It was hard not to hold some hope for what was to come when work with the volunteers was going so smoothly, and when our technology was improving in leaps and bounds both with and without the help of the volunteers.

The face and purpose of the Survey Corps had shifted. Not only were we meant to survey the land, making more detailed records of our own small island for example, and to research the geography and status of nations beyond our borders, but also to maintain the standard set by the Heroes of Shiganshina.

The scouts were Paradis' very first line of defense. Levi, me, and our few chosen lieutenants worked our recruits through intense gear training and intensified the hand-to-hand combat regimes to account for the incoming war.

And guess who got to take the reins on that front? Me, of course. Obviously. The new training regimes came with a near-total upheaval of our current systems, and Hange had entrusted it to me. Such was the case earlier today with a batch of recruits fresh this year, ready at long last to start firearms training. I took everything Onyankopon and experience had taught me, lined the recruits up, and:

I walked before the line of recruits, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and I was envious of that. I was still struggling to wake up.

Anyway.

"The size of a bullet compared to a Titan renders it completely useless," I said, examining the handgun in my hands with incredible focus. "Compare that to a human skull, and..."

At the end of the line of recruits I slowed to a stop, flipped the safety off, then turned. Lifting my arm in one smooth motion, I aimed for the mannequin on the far end of the line and fired. 

Its head was blown right off, and in my hand was the smoking gun. All was still and all was quiet as the mannequin's head rolled to a stop in front of one of the recruits. I nearly smiled at the awestruck looks in their eyes, the way their eyes glittered by what I had done.

"As scouts, you must now be able to do both. Strike with speed and precision with a blade longer than your arm, and then turn around and shoot a man between the eyes. That is your job."

"Wow!"

"So cool!"

"We've got a lot of work to do," I said, ignoring their praise. "Let's get started."

That had been the trend of recent weeks, and with each passing day it felt more and more like stolen time. The world right now was a pot of water, the tensions between nations being the flame. The more the tensions grew, and the more the flames were fanned, the closer the conflict grew to boiling over into full-blown war.

No one was looking forward to it, but it was inevitable. That was for certain, as awful as it was to admit it. The world was, after all, as cruel as it was beautiful. That had been said once or twice or a million times by now.

But along with the scouts' role on the island evolving, so too did that of the Military Police and Garrison as they shifted to accommodate the island's changing needs. Engineers were hard at work using the new technology and resources presented to us, drawing inspiration from other nations.

In this way, our gear was improved. It was lighter and more streamlined, and the blades became sharper and more durable. The citizens of Wall Maria had reclaimed the farmlands that had grown wild from lack of upkeep, and finally, the food crisis between the walls wasn't on the forefront of everyone's minds and our reserves were built up. More and more people enlisted in the military, and some of the most talented crops of soldiers joined our ranks.

The kids and Hange remained by the coast, where they could work with the bulk of volunteers and hone their skills. Hange was doing exemplary work as usual and kept up usual correspondence with us. The kids too, sent letters, detailing what they'd been up to.

With all of that in mind, it was hard to keep hope from blooming in our hearts. Technological, military, economic, and nearly all other forms of advancements sprang up. Paradis was catching up with the world, and rather quickly at that. So quickly, in fact, that it was almost dizzying to think about.

Dizzying too, was the thought that war was inevitable. There was absolutely nothing we could do about it, not with the entire world against us and preparing to fight us.

Zeke was still avoiding the island, which was fine, because with the brothers together, there was every chance that they would enable the earth-shattering weapon, the one that would kill everyone but those who had our blood. The easiest way to avoid this outcome was to keep the brothers from touching. 

Zeke was manipulative, this was clear, but if our allies were to be believed, then he was trustworthy and he wanted to help us. But I remained wary, as did Levi; I could not wrap my head around the fact that someone who had killed dozens of our soldiers was actually aiming to help us now, after a humiliating defeat at the hands of my husband.

If anything, I believed that he was just biding his time and would betray us. I wasn't stupid. I knew how to secure someone's trust. It was harder to see if a man was lying if you could not see into his eyes and see his body language. To that end, I did not – and I could not – trust Zeke.

I only did not speak out – only doing so behind closed doors with Levi, who shared in my sentiment – because I could not directly disobey my superiors. Without evidence that Zeke was against our cause, the superiors felt that there was no reason to distrust him. It was frustrating.

And yet, despite the easy solution to keep the world from a massacre, which was to keep Zeke from the island, what we didn't anticipate was a little brat leaving and risking finding him.

Because, you know. We still hadn't gotten any word from Eren.

No updates, no letters, nothing. Hadn't he realized he'd made me deathly ill with worry? I'd nearly died - and for him? And he couldn't even write! The audacity, honestly...

Anyway.

Back to what was happening exactly now.

"Hold still, will you? Goodness, even Emi is better behaved than you when I dress her."

"Stop poking me with that damn needle, then," he complained.

"If you didn't squirm so much, I wouldn't have poked you," I huffed.

"Look at you two," a third voice chimed in. I recognized it without even having to look, but I did anyway, if only just to smile and gesture with my head for him to enter my room because both hands were occupied. "Arguing like an old married couple."

"That would be because we are an old married couple," I said, returning my attention to Levi and the clothes he was acting as a mannequin for.

I'd written to Hange a few days ago, telling her about an idea I had; I was reminded of it once we'd returned to the coast after our trip to Marley. While I enjoyed the look of the white uniforms that we normally adorned, for working at night, they gave away our position too easily if we were under moonlight.

I advised that we design a new uniform, one for covert missions should they be necessary, or just for working at night. It was practically a miracle that night when the first Marleyan vessel had been intercepted by us that we hadn't been caught; our uniforms had been almost obnoxiously bright in the pale light from the moon, making it hard to blend into the shadows because what little light that trickled in made us stand out so much more.

And that's what I was doing now, with Levi as my mannequin. I still made use of the brown leather gear straps but replaced everything else with black fabric. Hange elected herself to work on upgraded protection for our soldiers alongside the many other advancements she was working on.

I had to admit that Levi looked rather good like this, decked in all black. Perhaps I was biased, but I didn't care about that too much. He looked good, and there was no denying it. Anyone with working eyes would see that much.

Levi was only giving me a hard time because the fitted shirt I'd made him hadn't looked right, and it wasn't comfortable, so I was fixing it and using pins to set it in place so he could see how it felt then. The stubborn man was just making it difficult.

"We're not old," Levi mumbled.

"We're getting there," I said. "What brings you to our office, Lobov?"

The name – despite it being only the most current of many times that he'd heard it – made Levi stiffen slightly. He was a soldier we'd taken in among that last batch of recruits, and he was very hardworking and dedicated to our cause. He'd switched from the Garrison, like many soldiers, upon realizing that we needed the numbers right now.

Upon reading through the reports, the name had stuck out to us immediately, striking chords within us but we at first weren't sure of where or when exactly we'd heard the name. Then, Levi had remembered; Lobov had been the last name of the man who had given us our job, the one meant to grant us our freedom and the money that would have set us for life on an easy road.

Back when Farlan and Isabel were alive and with us. Back when all that mattered was killing Erwin and protecting my small family. Back when we knew next to nothing about our world.

We'd talked then, knowing that it wasn't the very same Lobov that we'd met, because obviously not: that one was either rotting in jail, or was dead. I didn't care much either way, but just seeing the name again reminded me of just how much had happened so quickly, and so long ago, now. It was strange to think of, but I knew that we couldn't turn a soldier away just because of a name.

I mean, we didn't know if this kid even knew the Lobov we had. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't, but he very quickly proved himself as a soldier. As much as maybe we wanted to address the unspoken history between his family and ours, we couldn't just bring it up.

Besides, it was so long ago now, what were we going to do? Chastise him for something a relative had done – a relative he might not even know? Give him a slap on the wrist because his family had almost killed everyone I had left to care about?

Humorous ideas though they were, we couldn't do that. And so, Levi bristled whenever he heard the name, and I had to pretend that it didn't affect me either, even though the name alone brought with it so many memories and a wave of nostalgia that was rather unwelcome, as I was not only reminded of good memories of being above ground with Farlan and Isabel, but also the horrible memory of their deaths.

Lobov, our Scout, was kind and gentle, and a capable soldier through and through. I was happy to have him among our ranks, though maybe I did hope that he'd get married and take his spouse's name so I wouldn't have to read or hear it anymore.

"A messenger from the coast is waiting in the courtyard," he said. "Something about a delivery from Commander Hange."

"Ah, perfect," I exclaimed happily. "They must be the new chest plates she told me about. Don't move, Levi, I'll be right back!"

"Hey, you brat! You left the damn pins in! Get back here and take them out!"

—

"Finally," Amaya said happily, stretching her arms far over her head, "my favorite time of the day!"

"Tch. Nighttime?"

"No, no," she said right away, dropping her arms to the couch on either side of her as she righted herself.

She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, having been doing some work in her lap piecing together some materials for the new uniforms. The damn woman had been working ceaselessly to perfect them, but at this rate, he figured the standard she was going for was unattainable because she hadn't reached it yet but had poured all her attention, time, and focus on it. It was a damn miracle she was even remembering to eat, lately.

...He'd have to have a talk with her about that. It'd been scary enough when she was sick and wouldn't eat - or more accurately, couldn't eat or keep a single meal down if it consisted of more than a single cracker at a time - but working herself to the bone and "forgetting" to eat was not a road he wanted to go down with her.

There was a time in their lives where having food was not a sure thing, but it was not now. They were not underground, they were not criminals. Amaya had told him about how some nights, when she was very young, that her father had shorted his own meals in order to make sure she could eat, even if those meals were only dry rations he smuggled from the base.

Hunger - that terrible, gnawing, empty feeling - was one they both knew well. For her to subject herself to it now...

"I mean bedtime," she finished.

"Uh huh," he muttered, clearly unconvinced. And with the way his wife smiled, she knew right away that he was skeptical. "Right. Your favorite part of the day is the part you're unconscious for?"

"Levi," she huffed, clearly exasperated. "No, you're not listening. Bedtime is different from being asleep."

"Enlighten me."

Seated on the chair meant for his ass, and his ass alone, she gazed knowingly at him from across the room as he lowered his book, granting her his full attention.

"Alright," she said lightly, seeming to him to be more like a professor preparing to tutor a student than his wife talking about something she liked. "First off, you can't really appreciate sleep as you do it. You only know you did once you wake up, and you can say, yep, that was a good night's rest."

"Mm-hm."

"But bedtime, well... there's a certain sense of calm to it. Emi's asleep and dreaming, and we're about to do the same. Well, maybe I am." She laughed at her own joke, and he rolled his eyes. It was too late for her antics. "When it's bedtime, we relax and hold each other close and we're warm and safe and comfortable and it's a nice time to just... be."

"Just be?"

"Just exist," she elaborated with a soft smile and kinder eyes. "Just be with you. It's a nice way to be, love."

"Then let's not waste more time," he proposed. "To bed, then?" He stood, but she - surprisingly - did not follow. Instead, all she did was reach towards him. "What?"

"Carry me?"

He clicked his tongue irritably but was already on his way towards her. "Anything to shut you up," he muttered, lifting her into his arms. When her legs were around his waist and her arms around his neck, she smiled at him, with little more than mischief and love lacing her expression.

"To bed," she echoed, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Whatever you say, you brat."

—

Amaya was there. She was there, caressing his cheek, just feeling it out - it being love, it being able to freely hold him.

Strange, that. They'd known for so long, the love they shared. And yet... even now, now that they were on the surface, they were still just getting started. She was close now, very close. If it were anyone else, anywhere else, and around anyone else everywhere else, he'd have been against this.

But her warmth was so comforting, her touch so soft, those eyes so alluring. He didn't want to pull away. Hers was not the searing heat of pain inflicted, nor the intense fiery sting of getting burnt. Hers was a safe warmth, a protective warmth; warmth that would keep the chill away, a roaring fire in a fireplace while wrapped up in a blanket.

It was so much - being under a blanket before a fire might get uncomfortable, too hot and too quick - but not her. She knew when to pull away, when to ease up - and if ever her love did burn, it was teasing and light, and she'd ease it away with cooling touches and space if he needed it.

She'd remove the blanket, or stop adding kindling to the fire - but it burned on evermore, in his heart and hers.

And now, even on one of the coldest nights of the year... He was warm. So warm.

But maybe that had something to do with her palm against his cheek, and the way his cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

"Was that your natural laugh? You've a beautiful laugh, Levi," she said gently. "You should do it more."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he noted the way she did so slowly, offering him every chance to stop her. But he didn't want to. Before he could respond, he opened his eyes; and before he could gain his bearings, he felt the sudden, distinct weight of the gear against his body, of belts criss-crossing his body and his blades in his hands and...

"Levi!"

The terrible, blood-curdling shriek of his girl caught his attention first. She wasn't standing in front of him, as she just had been, and he was cold. Very cold. He turned and-

"Levi! Levi, help!"

"Your little whore's quite the looker," called a familiar voice. At the sound he whipped around, only to see... the cavern beneath the Reiss Chapel. But weren't they just...?

That didn't matter. This was a fight, and it wouldn't do him well to dwell on anything that was not reality. Dammit, but it'd felt so real, and-

Kenny had Amaya.

His knife, the blade with a sickly serrated edge, was against her neck, his arm pinning her back to his chest. His other hand was around Amaya's front, skilled fingers undoing...

His fingers squeezed the controller grips instinctually but from this distance, what could he do that wouldn't accidentally hurt Amaya? Her arms grasped at Kenny's arms, trying to tear them from her, but before either of them could do anything, her shirt was open and his blade running a line across her stomach. Blood, fresh and red and making way down her skin...

She began thrashing about, doing all she could to get him off of her. "Levi! Levi, please!"

"Get the fuck away from her you-!"

The scenery changed once more. That weight of the gear - once comforting, now burdening - was still about him, but they were outside. They were... There was the wall, and there were the recruits, and...

A wave of debris flew far above his head, the houses before them torn apart by rocks. He watched whatever rocks were left slam against the wall, falling to the dirt below with a clatter. Ah, further up... Yes, there was Eren. Unconscious. Knocked flat on his ass by the Colossal, no doubt.

Erwin was looking at him strangely, as was Amaya.

"Levi," she said, "are you alright?"

"Now is not the time to panic," Erwin said.

"Tch," Levi said, remembering where he was. "As I said, Hange and the others should scatter on the horses and head back. You guys could escape on Eren with them acting as a decoy."

Amaya looked away, conflicted.

Erwin looked at him resolutely. "Again, I ask. What would you do?"

"I'm facing the Beast Titan," Levi said determinedly. Didn't it make the most sense? "I'll draw him away-"

"Impossible," Erwin cut in. "You won't even get close."

"I'll go around the other way, then," Amaya offered. "I can use the line of-"

"Absolutely not," Levi interrupted. "Even you aren't fast enough to avoid being torn apart, Amaya."

"And you are?"

"That doesn't matter," Levi argued. "But if I go, and you and Erwin and Eren return home alive, there's still hope. Isn't that the best we can ask for at this point?"

He looked away from Amaya - he could hardly stand the fear, the grief, the resignation in her gaze - and looked at Erwin.

"What a huge defeat," he added, glancing away from them both. "To be perfectly honest, I doubt a single one of us is making it back alive."

"Yes," Erwin said, "assuming we had no way to counterattack."

That caught them both off-guard.

"What?"

"Is there a way?"

"Yes."

"Erwin, you..."

"Why didn't you say that sooner? Why'd you keep your shitty mouth shut?"

"If the plan goes well, you may be able to take down the Beast Titan. But it will take the recruits and..." Erwin's eyes slid from his own, instead finding Amaya in a pointed way. She was standing in a manner rather standoffish, but met her commander's gaze directly. She did not shrink away. She did not let her fear show - not outwardly. But because he knew her so well, he could read her, just as she could read him.

And Levi could tell by only her eyes that she was scared. No, terrified.

And Levi, he was outraged.

"Say it," he demanded of their commander. "Say it, you bastard."

"It would take the recruits," Erwin repeated, "and Amaya to give their lives."

Another wave of rocks blasted through the area. Erwin turned to watch the smoke and dust settle, but Levi looked at Amaya, who now had her eyes closed, refusing to look and refusing to listen.

"It's like you said," Erwin continued. "Either way, most of us will die. No, it's almost guaranteed we'll all be wiped out." Erwin brushed past them then, and they turned to watch him go. "In which case, we can stake our heroic deaths on a slim chance of victory."

"My death, you mean," Amaya spoke quietly, making Erwin pause, but only for a moment's breath.

"For this to work, to ask these young ones to die, it would take an expert con man and a whole slew of lies."

"Which you are," Amaya said surely.

"But they trust you implicitly," Erwin reminded her. "You would not need to tell any lies. They'll follow you - because if you lay your life down for it, it must be good, because you've a good heart, Amaya."

Levi took her appearance in then, of her in full uniform. All at once, those wings seemed very out of place on her body - and yet, they'd always been there. Ever since they met, she'd had this heroic, tragic, yet incredibly strong and loving and caring instinct about her.

The wings suited her.

But right now, he wished she was anywhere else.

"If you do not lead the vanguard," Erwin said, "none of them will follow. You will die before anyone else."

"And what of you?" She asked. "Why can't you?"

"Need I give up my dream? Without ever learning what's in the basement..." Erwin sat before them, as though he were a martyr. "I need to go to that basement. Everything I've done till now... was because I thought this day would come. That someday, I could check if I was right."

Only moments later, it was decided. A plan was settled. Roles were explained. 

Levi stayed silent. The choice was not left up to him, nor to Amaya. It was Erwin's decision, and Erwin's alone. Levi did not allow any of that responsibility to settle on his shoulders. He couldn't.

Only moments later, Amaya spoke to Erwin privately, briefly. What they discussed was not his business, so he did not pry. He would not pry.

Only moments later, Levi and Amaya embraced once more - their final goodbye. Their final kiss. Their final murmured declarations of their love. 

Erwin watched on.

Only moments later, they lined up before the recruits. The plan was shared, the orders given. All eyes turned to Amaya. Hope glittered in the eyes of the recruits, because they knew her. They would follow their Blue Wing.

Only moments later, Levi watched from the sky, after killing yet another Titan, as Amaya charged forth on her horse, bravely, courageously, selflessly leading the recruits to their deaths.

Only moments later, as rocks tore through her body, she turned to look over her shoulder at him. They locked eyes. Levi went on to fight the Beast Titan, his wife's lifeless body lying dormant only feet away. Erwin watched on from the safety of the back lines.

Days later, they reached the basement.

Days later, they began to recover.

Days later... Erwin told him what Amaya had told him before charging to her death. It was her dying wish for him to know - they were to have a family. She had been pregnant. The Beast Titan had taken not only his wife's life, but that of their unborn child. She had hid the news so that she might fight alongside him.

She had no idea what would happen on that day. 

Even decades later, he still wondered if things might have been different... if only she had not fought that day. If Erwin had not watched on.

If she - the selfless woman she was - had not given her life for the most selfish man they'd ever known.

—

I was roused from sleep by - well, maybe it was more accurate to say I was jostled awake. Strangely, I found that when I awoke, I didn't have control of my limbs. Though in any other situation I might panic, I realized damn well immediately that it was because I was being held, and tightly, though not painfully.

But just as soon as I realized what was happening and where I was, I was released, and lowered gently back to the bed. Well, I knew only one person who would be in bed with me, so it was his name I called gently, only to get nothing in response but the sudden, swift action of him sitting up in bed.

"I'm sorry," he was saying. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to wake you, and I-"

"Shh, shh," I tried, sitting up myself. But as soon as I even started to reach out towards him, he flinched away and I retreated, withdrawing my hands back in towards me. He realized his involuntary reaction right away, and it was obvious that he felt remorseful from it, but I... what could have prompted him to... if it was me, and...

"Dammit," he hissed, lowering his head into his hands. Only, it didn't stay there long. He lifted his head, dropped his hands and his eyes pierced right through my own, drifting away towards my stomach then flicking back up into my eyes, as though unsure of where to look.

As he did, I leaned over, striking a match and then lighting a candle, so that we might see. Now able to see the fear in his eyes, I had to ask: "Levi, are you alright?"

"Your stomach," he cut in, choosing not to answer my question. "Is it...?"

"Is it what," I asked, needing clarification from his end. "Work with me, Levi. What about my stomach?"

"Let me see it."

Wordlessly, I lifted my shirt, sitting up straighter as I did and watching as he leaned closer, drifting the pads of his fingertips across my skin. I sucked a breath in instinctively, because his fingers were cold, but I did not react any other way as he looked at my abdomen and examined it for... something.

"No scar," he breathed out, his eyes finding mine. "And... Emi?"

"Asleep in the other room," I said quietly. "She's fine. You put her to bed tonight, love. Don't you remember?"

"Yes," he answered. "Yes, I..."

He sucked in a breath, much like I just had, but instead of being because of the cold, he sucked the breath through his teeth and seemed to cower away from me, as though he didn't want me to see him as he withdrew into himself. He lowered his head back into his hands, and he gripped his hair tight, damn near white-knuckling the dark strands.

"Dammit," he gasped, sucking air in only to heave it out. "Leave me alone!"

"Levi," I pressed as gently as I could. "Levi, look at me. What's happening? Who-"

"Leave me alone!"

"Me? Do you mean me?"

"No!"

"Then who-"

"Every fucking night, they haunt me," he explained, though it didn't really explain anything as he hunched over further, his head nearly in his lap.

It was obvious by now that he was awake, but not really awake, still haunted so clearly by a night terror - or perhaps worse than that. But as for what he needed from me, or what he wanted, or what might help... I was clueless.

He'd had nightmares before. But never like this - never this bad.

"Please leave me be," he begged into the air, throwing his head back. He was grief-stricken, hollowed enclaves where life should be and fear written where love should be. "Leave my family alone!"

To hear him plead with no one, no one but his own mind, only for it surely to refuse to listen...

It broke my heart, simple as that.

And... despite myself, despite wanting to remain strong, I started to cry. I could hardly stand to see him like this. This poor, poor man. All that he had been through and we only had a war left to go, I-

"Every night, it's you, or it's Emi, or it's you both," he said, looking directly at me now. As a tear rolled down my cheek, his eyes did not follow the movement, nor did they redirect to my hands, clasped now tightly in my lap, the only sensation I could feel in this moment other than pain, than heartbreak.

To see the strongest man I'd ever known suffer like this...

"Who was it tonight?"

"Kenny had you," he told me. "T-Touched you, hurt you- then it was Erwin, in Wall Maria, telling you to lead the recruits. You did and you-you died, and then you were..."

"That's enough," I cut in. "That's enough. You don't need to go on."

He'd had dreams like that. Well, nightmares, more like. But he'd had them before. Specifically, where I'd lead that damned suicide charge in place of Erwin, where Erwin got to live out his dream but we never got to live out our own...

Or even more specifically, I never got to live out my own.

And that perhaps scared Levi more than anything else.

"Erwin said, he-"

"Tell me if you want," I told him, "but you don't need to. I get it."

"No," he pressed. "No, you don't. He said a conman was needed if he went - but they trusted you regardless. If you lied or not, they'd follow. If you told them to charge to their deaths, they would - so long as you fought for it, they would too. That's the difference, that's... Dammit!"

I couldn't find words to reply with. How would I? How could I find any string of words suitable to reply to that?

"You've a good heart," Levi said quietly. "We've all said it a million times. He was a devil, the devil needed to bring us that far. Is it right to call you an angel?"

"Levi, please," I started, only to cut myself off before I could outright sob.

"I don't even know if the dream was wrong," he spoke, almost silently. "I'd like to think it was. I wouldn't allow you to charge to your death. But would I have followed Erwin's orders to the end? I don't know. The recruits would have followed you. But I can't... I can't say, I-"

"We don't know because we weren't in that situation," I assured him. "We didn't need to make any decisions like that. We-"

"But we will now," he argued, "with the war coming. You want to fight. I don't want you to. But can I go against what you want just because it's what I want? If in that situation, could I ask you not to fight? Could I get in the way of what you want to keep you safe?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I don't know."

"You want to fight," he said uncertainly, meeting my eyes unsurely. "That hasn't changed. Right?"

"Right," I affirmed. "How can I dare claim I want what's best for our daughter if I don't fight for it?"

"No matter the risk, knowing that, can I..."

"I don't know, Levi," I said quietly. Was this a talk to have now? Was this something to discuss now, when he was still bleary, grief-stricken, clearly haunted?

"They're all yelling something different," Levi told me, and I had to strain my ears to hear his words in the silence of the room. Hell, the slight cracking of the candle burning was louder than his voice. "Erwin's telling me not to make a choice I'll regret. Kenny is telling me something else. Farlan is telling me one thing, and Isabel is saying another. And my mother... They won't leave me alone. It's not them. It's shit."

"Let them go, Levi. Let them go. Stop letting them control your mind, keeping you from sleep. You need rest, so just..."

"How?"

"I don't know," I answered.

"Did you let your father go?"

"He doesn't haunt me," I told him. "Not anymore."

"Caden, then." I shook my head. "Mason?"

"I feel guilty for not being there more," I said, "but he doesn't haunt me either."

"How," he voiced once more.

"I don't know."

"How," he demanded, "can I let them go? When they gave their lives for what they believed in? How can I give them up now when their hearts were sacrificed for this cause? How did you let go of Eld? Petra, Olou, Gunther? Moses?"

"Letting go," I said quietly, "is not the same as forgetting. I don't mean to ask that of you. But you cannot let ghosts control you. They've done it for too long."

"I can't."

"It sounds like you're regretting something, Levi," I said. "And that's not like you."

"The only thing I regret," he said ruefully, "is not keeping you from this. Not keeping you far from the fighting. Because not only are you here, but Emi is, too. She's involved, whether we like it or not."

"I don't like it either," I said, "but this is the road we walk. We chose to walk it together. We will protect her, no matter what." Something strange, something out-of-place, something regretful - remained in his eyes. "It's not your fault, Levi - it never was. You've never wanted me to fight, I know that. Not since we knew what we meant to each other. But I chose to be here. It's not just that you let me - I let myself."

"I know," he breathed out. "I know."

Teary-eyed, I shook my head. "Please, Levi," I pleaded. "Just let them go."

"I can't."

"If this is all that the grief is going to do for you-"

"I can't."

He closed his eyes, then. He seemed to gather himself and I took the moment to wipe one of my tears away, but I didn't have time to do more than that before he opened his eyes. I was the sole, stunning focus of that set of eyes in a way I hadn't seen before. His bangs criss-crossed his forehead, and his skin seemed to warm with the candle's gentle glow. The bags beneath his eyes had never looked darker, nor his irises more stormy.

And then... there was a break in the storm.

His eyes found a serene, yet entirely strange, sense of calm.

"They quiet down, when you're around," he spoke, reaching out with one hand to gently swipe the skin beneath my eyes, still damn with long-fallen tears. "They're silent now."

I nodded, then took his hand into my own. He asked if he might hold me closer, and I clambered up into his lap, letting him hold me close, letting him cradle me against him.

And I cried. We were haunted, wounded soldiers.

But this was the path we had chosen. We had chosen to remain on it after Erwin's death, despite having no reason to do so - save for our desire to fight on where our comrades could not, to not let unfulfilled promises remain as such.

We chose to walk it together, yes, but for all our conviction, it was hard. It was very hard.

Yet we both knew it would only get harder from here.

—

Dear Captain Amaya,

I hope more than anything else that this letter finds you well. Hange sent word that you're doing much better now, that you've recovered from your illness. Is that the case? I don't think any of us could handle hearing otherwise, especially Jean.

He was incredibly fretful as we all took turns reading the letter Captain Levi sent, because as soon as Hange said it was about you, he demanded to read it next. He's fond of you, but I'm sure you know that already!

Anyway, I hope you're doing better. I wanted only to check in on you - there hasn't really been anything interesting happening on this end, only that I think Sasha is starting to fancy Nicolo for more than just his food now. We could all do with some happiness right now, and seeing Sasha happy does just that for us.

When she's happy and well-fed, we're ALL happy.

At any rate, I hope you're feeling better and haven't been pushing yourself too much. I'm sure Captain Levi isn't letting you do anything too strenuous! I hope your whole family is doing well, and we all cannot wait to see you and Emi sometime soon. The last time we met wasn't exactly in ideal circumstances, wouldn't you say?

I could write to you for hours, but I'd love to catch up in person. Maybe we should plan something!

Write back when you can.

Cordially,

Armin Arlert.

I smiled as I leaned back in my chair, setting the page on the desk before me. This boy was too sweet.

But... it was strange.

To think, the boy who wrote to me now, the boy who longed to see the sea now lived beside it, he who was so intelligent, so insightful, so kind - was also the one harboring the Colossal Titan, a power so deadly even just getting into his Titan could flatten entire cities...

A boy seemingly so innocent, yet holding so much power.

A boy stronger than he knew and more capable than he thought possible.

A boy who did not believe in his own abilities, despite them having saved him and his friends time and time again...

I didn't realize I'd said those words aloud until Levi chuckled from his spot on the leather seat beneath the window of our shared office. "Remind you of anyone?"

"Oh, hush," I said, rolling my eyes.

His power was terrifying. He was so polite, so sweet, so thoughtful, and so kind - but he is also a harbinger of death. It was terrifying - but so too was not knowing where Eren was.

—

It was a moonless night, but the stars were brighter than ever in its absence.

Sitting on a blanket out in the middle of a field somewhere in the Survey Corps' training grounds, I could very well have remarked how strange an occurrence this was, but I didn't. It was obvious why, and it was to both of us, so obvious that it didn't need to be spoken.

But with our dinner long gone, the remnants of the meal and our dessert all gone, all that was left was the basket, set off to the side for now, and the blanket, which we were both seated comfortably atop. With my arms wrapped loosely around my knees, I gazed up towards the infinite cosmos, of skies I would never get to explore - not that I wanted to.

I had enough on my plate as it was.

"War is coming," I said softly, letting the words hang in the air. Mason glanced sidelong at me briefly, then redirected to look back towards the stars once more. "You'd better run. Go somewhere far away."

"Run where? With these legs?"

"Oh, come on," I huffed, looking at him directly, only to come face to face with his coy, shit-eating grin. "Of all things to joke about..."

"If you can't laugh at yourself," he argued easily, "then who can you laugh at?"

"True, I guess," I considered. "Anyway, you know what I mean."

"I know."

"You should stay away from it all. I can't see you getting hurt because of the mess we brought Paradis into."

"How can you be so sure war is coming? Been to a fortune-teller?"

"No, nothing like that," I said with a laugh. "No, I just know that we have something the enemy wants - Eren. And from the sounds of it, they'll do anything to get him back."

"And... you?"

"Hm? What about me? As far as I know, the enemy doesn't know I even exist. I mean, Reiner probably knows, but-"

"No, not that," he said. "I mean... When war comes, will you run? You and Emi and Levi?"

"No," I said. "I won't run. I can't. Too many have died for me not to see this through. And I can't just not fight, after all that I missed, and all that I have done. Emi will be far from it - I'll make sure of that. But Levi won't bow out, either."

"Levi can't possibly be happy you're fighting. Does he know?"

"I haven't told him," I said. "Not yet."

"What are you waiting for?"

"I don't know. A good time, I suppose."

"I don't think there will ever be a good time to tell your husband you want to fight in a war."

"You were skeptical it was coming a moment ago."

"Well," he said. "I trust you. You know a lot more about this than I do, anyway. I just..."

"...Mace?"

"I just don't want to see you lose your life over something like that."

"If not something like that," I said, "protecting my homeland and those I love and for a future I want, then what shall I die for?"

"Die from old age after a life long-lived," he provided. "That sounds good. That gives us plenty of time together."

"I can't control when or where I die, Mason," I said softly. "You know that as well as I do."

"But if you can avoid certain situations that are dangerous," Mason argued, "then you should, right?"

"Things like lighting myself on fire or riding on dangerous trails? Sure, I can do that. But I've given myself to this cause, Mason."

"What has it given back?"

"What?"

"You have given yourself to it," he said. "What have you gotten in return?"

"I..."

"Promise me, if nothing else, that you'll fight as hard as you can."

"That... goes without saying," I said, still caught on his last question.

"Promise."

"I promise," I assured him. "I promise I'll be careful, that I'll fight as hard as I can."

He nodded, accepting my words - my promise. "Good. That's good."

Something told me he knew damn well that a promise meant little in the face of war - but he was too stubborn, much like I was, to not make one. Because to us, anyway... the words meant something.

They meant something to us, even if they meant nothing to the rest of the world.