The driving rain weakened the sunlight enough that he hadn't needed to wait for night to fully fall to emerge from the shelter of Reiss Cathedral's belfry. Levi crouched amidst the towering pillars and sweeping archways, hands gripping the stone below him and wings arranged in such a way that he'd be indistinguishable to passersby from the crenulated gargoyles clinging to the architecture. He watched the watery light fade from the streets of the city where he'd been born. Where he'd lived, once.
Ages ago, now. Or so it seemed.
The Death Dealer spread his wings with the soft crackle of stretching leather and, once certain no one could look up and see him any longer through the gloom, glided down onto the nearest roof. His black clothing blended with the saturated night, the perfect camouflage as he darted across buildings with a lithe precision. Silent and swifter than even a Scout.
Fake wings, he'd since learned, had nothing on real ones. Exhilarating as it had been to swoop about on the sturdy hooks and cables of the Three Dimensional Maneuvering Gear it could never compare to soaring high above the spires of Utgard Keep with his Night Lord brat at his side.
But now was the time to focus. The sooner he finished here the sooner he could return to his mate and the ice and snow.
The hiss of gas and metal drew his attention downwards as he sailed over the gap between two buildings. A member of the Military Police swung by without seeing him and he didn't stop to give the man a chance to rectify that oversight. The horned horse would never be the wings of freedom, but those who wore it as their insignia could still mean trouble for a lone Vampire. Especially one smack dab in the heart of the capital of the Holy Mitrian Empire, gunning for the head of the fat ponce they called a king.
And if they called in backup from the Scouting Legion…
Death Dealers were far better suited than Blood Mages for melee combat with their superior strength and constitution, not to mention abilities like Mikasa's shadow hunting or his own aura-sight, but even they-even he-had limits. And in honesty Levi wasn't certain he could bring himself to kill a former comrade, even if it had been fifteen years.
Even if they'd no longer recognize him as anything but a monster.
Not to mention the fact that he wasn't keen on going against the laws of the coven he belonged to, 'no wanton slaughter' being equivalent to the Golden Rule in Eren's eyes. An unhappy brat would only lead to him being locked out in the cold.
At the apex of his next jump he spread his wings again, a stiff breeze propelling him over the ramparts of Sina Palace and across the courtyard. As much of a pain as being relegated to gliding was, drawing attention to himself with wingbeats wasn't an option. Not if he wanted to remain undetected enough to be able to stop by the old stomping grounds before heading back north across the Dark Lands.
Levi gripped the stone with his talons and folded his wings, prowling along the wall with all the ease of a spider. Unbeholden to gravity. He couldn't enter a building without being invited, no Vampire could, and though this fact was well known to the humans who both feared and hunted his kind what they didn't seem to realize was that that invitation didn't need to be a verbal one.
An open window was all it took, and with the summer being warm in the low lands there were plenty of those to be found.
His head snapped around at the sight of motion to his right; silken curtains weaving in and out of the open doors of a balcony leading to the royal chamber. The Blood Gods were on his side tonight.
With all the noise of a cat Levi dropped from the wall, landing poised on the stone railing. He paused only long enough to secure his mask in place before slinking forward into the room. Just another of the night's shadows, armed with blades a plenty and enough strength to crush a human skull with one hand.
The masks were a sign of their coven, denoting them to each other and their enemies on the battlefield, but here it was a precaution. Unlikely as it was that anyone would see him, or that they'd survive doing so to tell about it, it was better that he wasn't recognized. Better his family had some false closure than know he'd willingly become the very beast he'd sworn to fight against.
As much as he hated the man for what he'd done and what he was involved in he made it quick, for Eren's sake. Pausing only long enough to carve what had become his moniker into the wooden headboard the masked raven exited the palace the same way he'd come, sailing back across the courtyard then climbing above the cloud line.
The rain pattering against his spread wings reminded him of the sound he'd so often heard curled up in a tent in the Dark Lands when stormy conditions had forced the Legion to put down stakes and wait out the weather. He swooped over Wall Rose which separated the Noble District from the Military District and banked left, towards the third allotted to the Scouting Legion.
Though noticeably dirtier, the barracks hadn't changed since he'd been gone. Levi bit down on his compulsive quirk, sprouted from the obsessive desire for a clean environment which had been severe enough when he'd been human, and landed on the roof. The sparing green. The stand of trees where 3DMG training took place. The stables which held the horses used for expeditions into the Dark Lands. So familiar. So missed, though it was no longer his home.
What he was doing was incredibly dangerous, and even more incredibly stupid, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to briefly stop in and check on those he'd once considered family. It had been so long since he'd ventured into Rose. He had to know, at least, if they were still alive.
He'd be quick and cautious and gone before dawn.
Thank the night for Hanji's tendency to leave the windows of her lab open. Levi slipped through the cluttered space, clambered up the walls and onto the ceiling. Slithering through the inverted halls until he caught one of the scents he was looking for. It was dulled with time and having last been smelled through the limited senses of a human but it was still instantly recognizable and more than enough to lead him straight to her room.
He dropped down, hissing softly when the floors creaked beneath the sudden application of his weight. Pale fingers closed around the knob and turned. Cracking the door first to make sure the occupant was sleeping and then opening it fully. He couldn't enter but he could look and that was enough. That was all he needed to do to know his adopted sister was still alive.
Her hair was still as red as he remembered, the darkness combining with his enhanced vision to saturate the strands in the same color as the scarf Mikasa always wore. Isabelle's back was to him, burrowed deep into the covers and fast asleep.
Levi closed the door again, slowly so as to prevent the hinges from creaking, and leapt back onto the ceiling. Off he went in search of Farlan.
He knew the blonde wouldn't be far and located the correct door not long after. A creak sounded from his right, plainly not caused by the protest of the wood below him, and his head snapped around. Vampiric reflexes were all that kept the silver blade from taking his head off.
The sharp edge lay into his shoulder and bit deep. He snarled and bared his fangs below the muzzle of the mask, swiping at Mike to ward off his next attack. The blonde fell back, adjusted his grip and prepared to come at him again.
He never got the chance.
The door to Farlan's room flew open and a harsh blow assailed the back of his head before he could turn. Without the slightest clue what in the Night he'd been struck with-though he'd bet his fangs Hanji had invented it-Levi staggered briefly then crumpled with a disgruntled hiss. Blood stained the floor a dark shade of crimson where it gushed from his open shoulder, the silver in the wound preventing it from sealing itself closed. His energy was draining away at an alarming rate and darkness closed around his vision.
The last thing the Death Dealer saw before losing consciousness was Farlan standing over him.