Weeks later, it's during the end of the expedition that things goes wrong.

The beginning of the expedition started like any other. Everyone got in formation, a plan of retreat was designed in the happenings of something going badly—everything was in place.

Eren's with Levi, obviously, as the little Titan shifter is entirely his responsibility. He rides beside him as they venture farther and farther from their base. There's nothing but dusty terrain around them save for a distant forest, which is dangerous, for they have no way to use their 3DMGs. They're like sitting ducks out here.

Levi always had a good sense of intuition. So when his stomach clenches and a feeling of unease creeps up his skin, he knows something's wrong.

His suspicions are confirmed when the Titans lumber out of the woods to their left.

Levi's jaw tightens; didn't seem like they were in luck today. He wonders why the left flank didn't shoot a signal flare as a warning. Then he reasons they might have died before they got the chance.

Instantly, his body tensed and ready for a fight, he looks behind him and shouts orders to the soldiers gathered. They all have no choice but to fight now. They've already been spotted, after all.

Collective murmurs and gasps spread throughout the group like a virus—but Levi isn't listening, he's examining the enemy. There's quite a few of them, all of different shapes and sizes. They're about 100 meters away and making good time; they'll be here within minutes.

His hands find their blades, and he slides them out.

Eren makes a noise to his right, and Levi looks over to see narrowed blue-green eyes. "We're at a disadvantage," growls Eren. "There's no way to use the mobility gear. I need to—"

"Don't shift, Eren." Levi's voice is firm. "We have it under control. If you shift, you may lose control and kill every one of us. Do you want that?"

The boy's expression changes to one of conflict, and he shakes his head so hard his hood slips off. "No, but—"

"You will listen to me, as your commanding officer," says Levi. He's off his horse now, eyes trained on the nearing Titans. "Get yourself somewhere safe, we'll handle this."

"But—"

"Now, Eren." He whirls on the boy, grabs his collar, and tugs him down to eye-level. "You shifting is too unpredictable, we will only use that if it's absolutely necessary. Now, please, get yourself safe."

Eren hesitates, again. Why does he have to be so goddamn stubborn? "I won't! I have blades, too—I don't have to shift, I'll still fight—"

He's being too selfish, Levi realizes, and grits his teeth. He's never acted this way before, and it makes him sick. But he doesn't want Eren to fight; he wants to keep him safe and happy and breathing.

But Eren is a soldier, and fighting is what he lives for. He has the weapons, he has the potential, he has the bravery. There's no reason he shouldn't be allowed to fight.

"Fine," Levi sighs, and he tugs Eren the rest of the way, joining their lips. Other soldiers might notice, but Levi can't find it in himself to care. "Just don't die, alright? If you do, I'll go find your ghost and kill you again. Are we clear?"

"Roger!" says Eren, and he pulls away with a determined smile. "Same to you, Corporal Levi. Remember, you have a promise to keep."

Levi nods; he glances back at the enemy and knows they are out of time. "I do. We'll find the sea together, brat."

With that, they part ways, and the fight begins.

The fight doesn't last long. The Titans come upon them, towering above the humans like their very own walls. The soldiers' blades slide out, shiny and sharp. 3DMGs activate, and their hooks have nothing to sink into but the enemies themselves, so into the Titans' flesh they go.

Levi's hands—his entire body—is moving out of instinct. He hardly has to concentrate as he flies in the air, slicing and stabbing and piercing. His blades are like an extension of his limbs as they maneuver through warm Titan flesh.

He lands on one Titan's shoulder, and slices his neck before the Titan can even notice the flea he has gotten. While Levi is there, in the split second before he jumps to the next beast, he glances around. A relieved sigh escapes his lips when he sees Eren, his blades raised and his mouth open in a snarl. He almost looks like an avenging angel, Levi thinks with amusement.

Levi's not too bad himself. He's a killing machine. Titans fall before him like dominos, then fizzle away into a fiery smoke, filling up the air above.

Some time later, as he is finishing off one the last Titans, he realizes just how much the smoke has accumulated. It blocks his vision like a morning fog, which is irritating, because now he can no longer look out for the brat.

He makes his way past the wreckage of evaporating bodies, and finds a safe area. Screams pound into his eardrums, agonized cries—something Levi was able to ignore as he fought. Now, though, in the silence between one fight and the next, he can hear everything.

His eyes pick through the soldiers, some holding their own and some not. One man is trapped in a Titan's jaw—then, with a loud crunch, only his upper body is stuck between the monster's teeth. The sight reminds Levi that he needs to leap back into action, before too many of his men are killed.

But he has to find Eren first.

Normally Levi wouldn't stop right in the middle of a battle, but now he can't help it; his heart feels odd and his stomach feels nauseous. One glance is all he needs. One flash of the teen, with his angry foolish eyes and his shit-eating grin.

He doesn't find him.

Perhaps Levi's too wired up? Forcing himself to calm the fuck down, he looks again, and the results are anything but satisfying.

The gaseous Titan smoke is funneling into his ears and cutting off airflow. His brain is numb, he can't think, he can't breathe—

"Eren!" he calls out, and he whirls around, frantic. "Eren!"

There all soldiers, all around him. None are Eren.

His eyes dart to the few Titans that aren't dead—most have been killed now, by him and his men—there are no humans caught in their mouths, no screaming Eren is in sight.

Fuck, his hands are shaking, his mouth is as dry as paper; this can't be happening. No.

But as long as there is no body, there is still a chance. Eren may be out there, injured. Or maybe he chose to follow Levi's advice and go somewhere safe.

Somehow he doubts this. The rational part of his brain is kicking in, telling him that a missing person is a dead person. A missing person that has, most likely, become a Titan's lunch.

Levi curses, then begins to trek through the carnage anyway, eyes on the prowl for something, anything. He calls out Eren's name like a broken record, and his voices catches around it, breaking and cracking.

"Eren!" he yells, and he hates how weak he sounds. "Eren, don't you dare be fucking dead! Don't you dare. I'm not breaking my promise, you hear?"

He calls out for Eren a few more times, a hopelessly pointless action, before a hand clamps down on his shoulder. Heart seizing, Levi whirls around, and the hope he feels is tangible, precious. "Eren?"

It's not Eren, it's a soldier. The soldier looks apologetically at him, then clears his throat. "S-Sir, we think we should retreat . . . We can't possibly kill all those Titans."

"All those Titans? What is that supposed to mean . . . ?" The soldier points, and Levi turns around, seeing something he had somehow missed before. More Titans have come out of the forests—much too many to handle with so few men. He frowns. How did I not notice this until now?

The soldier is right. Retreat is the best option. Yet Levi shakes his head. "No, we can't. The brat—Jaeger—he's still out here somewhere, I need to find him—"

"He's probably dead, Captain," the man says, and Levi has to stop from killing him at this point. No, he wants to say, that's not fucking possible. "Are you really going to risk all your men for one little twerp? It's not worth it."

The man's right, but Levi doesn't want to believe it. It's ridiculous to risk all their men for one little brat that's probably already dead.

"I promised him," he mumbles. "I promised we'd find the sea . . ."

"Uh, Captain? We need to go, now—"

The soldier, in a foolishly brave gesture, shakes the corporal's shoulders, hard. But it's what Levi needs. He still feels like he's sinking, but the shake gives him a breath of much needed air. His stiff spine straightens, and he inhales, sharply and deeply. His mind clears. His surroundings flood back into focus.

The Titans are almost upon them, Levi notes after a quick glance. A glance at his men and he knows it would be suicide to stay here. Of the soldiers that survived, only a mere few are standing and seemingly uninjured. The rest are in scattered heaps among the field, some cradling broken legs, others missing limbs altogether. Pained faces look to his own, and he knows they are awaiting orders.

If they don't retreat now, there is a high possibility that everyone, including himself, will die. But if they do, he'll be leaving his charge behind. He'll be breaking his promise.

It's one of the hardest decisions of his life.

He retreats.