For a population damned to spend its existence inside of towering walls, you'd think that the structures within would be in faultless condition. After all, abandoning towns was a rare luxury, reserved only for tragedy and the unexpected. They had all the time in the world to focus on polishing the areas they lived in. She was confident that, if they really wanted to, they could make sure each and every brick was perfectly in place.

So why the hell was this sidewalk so uneven?

The soles of her boots were thinning, and the occasional jagged stone thrusted itself into the arch of her foot, making her clench her fists in irritation.

"Hate doing this shit," she mumbled, finally arriving at her destination, "I'll kill them all someday."

Crouching behind a storage crate in an alleyway, Blake Varga waited for tonight's target: a cunning thief who had gotten his hands on something belonging to her employer. 

She didn't enjoy allowing elitist men to spit on her and steer her in whichever direction they pleased, but she wasn't exactly interested in overthrowing the hierarchy, either. She would have to make some sacrifices to get what she wanted. She could force herself to be okay with that.

Catching a glimpse of someone approaching the alleyway, she shifted so that her small body was completely concealed from anyone passing by. The moon appeared to be hiding, too, as the night sky was illuminated only by a few lonely stars. Together, she and the moon waited silently.

When the man's lower body was within her line of sight, she flew out from her hiding place, flinging herself around his legs and pulling him to the ground.

"What the hell?" he cried, and she distantly thought about how frequently that phrase was directed at her.

"I need that," she said quietly, reaching for a slender box sticking out of the man's pocket.

"Well, you can't have it, you crazy bitch!"

"That's too bad," she sighed, pressing a scanty blade against his throat.

"You won't kill me," he replied coolly, not even bothering to thrash wildly within the hold she had managed to place around his wrists, "C'mon, sweetheart. Let me walk you back to the brothel—"

His eyes widened as she swiftly cut through his flesh, seemingly unfazed when his blood decorated her cheeks like the freckles she sometimes had in the shining presence of the sun.

This man would never see such a light again.

Tucking the box into her own pocket, she stood, having half the mind to glance around her to be certain that no one else witnessed the events that had just transpired.

"Impressive work."

Ah, shit.

She quickly turned to her admirer, whose face she could not see in the darkness, but she was able to feel his strength as he gripped her wrists and shoved her into a nearby wall.

"Thanks. I don't usually have an audience, though," she replied lazily, her blade falling out of her hand amidst the chaos.

"I've been watching you for some time, actually," came the response, and she bitterly noted that she had been raised off of the ground a couple of inches, her feet not touching the stones beneath her.

"How flattering. I'll let you buy me a drink if you put me down."

"I'd much rather buy your services."

"Didn't you just see me kill a man for implying that I was a prostitute?"

"What?" he faltered, and then, "No! I meant the homicidal kind."

"Right," she hummed, closing her eyes, "You'll become well-acquainted with the 'homicidal kind' rather quickly if you don't put me down."

Instead of meeting her demands, her attacker simply collected her wrists in one of his hands instead of two, pulling a small newspaper clipping from his breast pocket.

"Do you know who this is?" he asked, showing her the paper.

"I can't see it, buddy. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but it's dark outside."

To her surprise, he chuckled quietly, fitting the clipping into the palm of one of the hands he was currently restraining.

"I need you to kill him for me."

"Yeah? Who is it? I don't kill people without knowing who they are," she replied, clutching the coarse paper in her hand.

"Who is he?" he inquired, gesturing towards the corpse crumpled on the sidewalk.

"Eugene Ames. Had a dangerous habit of petty theft, which wasn't appreciated by the folks I'm working for. I can assure you, he was just as hideous alive as he is dead. Now, who are you asking me to murder?"

"Captain Levi of the Survery Corps."

"That was a serious question."

"That was a serious answer."

"Yep, alright," she muttered, sighing, "You can put me down now."

This time, he obliged, and she hit the ground with a graceless thud. 

"Sorry," he said, "So you'll do it?"

"Are you out of your damn mind?" she asked, rolling out the kinks in her wrists, "I know who Captain Levi is. I don't have a death wish."

"Neither do I. That's why I need him out of the picture."

"I hate to be the one to tell you this," she said as she straightened her arms over her head, "but if you're up against a man the population has nicknamed 'Humanity's Strongest,' you're most likely going to lose."

"His weakness is his camaraderie. He's not very trusting, but the people around him are. Getting close to them isn't as difficult as you'd think."

Pausing in her stretching, she turned to face the man again, her bones aching more from this chilling revelation than his painful grip.

"I don't know who you are," she said coldly, her voice much lower than it was moments ago, "But I don't want anything to do with Captain Levi, and I certainly don't want anything to do with you. If you come near me again, I'll break your neck."

Picking her knife up off of the ground, she moved to exit the alley, clutching the blade's handle tightly.

"Blake Varga," he called out after her, and she couldn't stop the wave of unease that consumed her body at hearing him speak her full name, "You will come to regret this."

"Whatever," she replied, growing irritated, "I hope Captain Levi kills you in your sleep, asshole."

Not bothering to look behind her, she walked away for real this time, the tension in her shoulders replaced by the familiar ache in her feet from the jagged sidewalk. Finally feeling free of the fear that had been suffocating her, she allowed herself to let out a breathy laugh of disbelief.

Who in their right mind would attempt to assassinate Captain Levi?

How absurd. She couldn't wait to tell her brother about it.