Furlan was dead, to begin with. Everybody knew this. Some were aware of it as a distant fact, a part of the expedition's statistics. Others were more acutely aware as they knew Furlan. The point remained that through some official means, anybody did or could come to know that Furlan was dead.

Levi knew of this acutely. Levi was his leader, his friend, his role model and his brother. Levi was also, in this special case, the most acutely aware of Furlan's passing. In fact, it was he who found the corpse in the field – munched into two halves by a titan too idiotic to swallow him whole. Yet, Levi was not affected by the death. He did not shed a tear. He did not mourn. He did not attend the funeral. In fact, Levi proved himself as a soldier by receiving a promotion on the day of Furlan's death.

The point stands that, Furlan had died at the teeth of a titan.

Levi was a heartless, neutral soldier. That was what any human enemy would have nightmares about – the robotic being reduced to a heartless, unreasonable, unstoppable killing machine. He looked as plain as his purpose. His face was functional: lips to utter commands, ears to hear orders, eyes to see threats and a nose to breath. His cheek existed to complete the illusion that he was a human.

Levi was impassive. This was not the first death, not that Levi reacted to anything. To anybody, Levi was a rock. He would respond to basic stimuli politely. Yet, to any stimuli beyond a greeting, a wave or a goodbye, Levi was tense, rude and unapproachable. Levi repelled people – his leaders avoided him, his colleagues never spoke to him, his squad barely even knew him. Levi was alone.

To him, he had attained Nirvana. He was left to himself – his uniquely perfect self. Others were inferior, they were disgusting and wrong. He was happy to repel people.

Once upon a time – on Christmas Eve – Levi found himself in his usual place: at the head of a silent, cold dinner table. The room, like the inside of his chest cavity, was bare and plain. It was a scary extension of utilitarianism with nothing out of place or without a dual-purpose. That suited the rest of the building where besides what he considered to be a wasteland controlled by Hange, everything was minimalist – even the amount of dust. Fitting the pattern, heating used had been kept to a minimum, leaving everybody under more than one jacket. Around him was his squad: Petra to his left, Erd to her left, Auro in front of Erd and Gunther to Levi's right. They did not dare to speak. They silently ate. If a spoon or fork clinked too loudly, the offending eater earned a glare. If anybody muttered or slurped, they earned a glare. There was not much anybody in the squad could do without earning a glare.

Hange walked in. "Merry Christmas!" She called.

"Tch." Levi responded.

Hange pouted slightly before addressing the silent diners. "I'm collecting donations for the poor." Out of thin air, Hange pulled out a bucket jingling with coins. She handed it to Levi who pushed it away. The other four put in a few coins.

"Not going to help out, Levi?" Hange asked.

"It's stupid. All these lazy wastrels ever do is rot."

"You're crazy! Come on, it's Christmas, give a bit!"

"Just because it's Christmas?"

"No, because you have a heart."

"I have what's needed for my job and a heart is not one of those things."

"Well, your life is not your work and this is after work. Give!"

"My work is my life. Out with your nonsense."

"Your loss."

"Yours." Hange walked away, ignorant of Levi's last comment.

Levi turned back as silent eating resumed. At the end of the meal, Levi asked in the nicest tone he could muster: "So, I presume you four are taking an off tomorrow."

"Yes Heicho." He could have sworn that the only voice which did not mumble was Petra's.

"And you're still getting paid. By next year, I hope some of you realize what a fallacy Christmas is and what a waste of budget paid leave is." Everybody thought 'and we hope you realize what Christmas is,' but even Erwin would never be able to tell that to Levi. "Somebody do the dishes."

Petra looked around nervously before clearing her throat. "Ah… Heicho, if I may?"

"What?"

"I have invited the squad members to my dad's house for Christmas and was wondering if I may extend the invitation to you."

"Acknowledged. Rejected. Anything else?"

"One more thing…" Levi did not hide the annoyance in his sigh. Out of her jacket, Petra revealed a thin book. "I got you this for Christmas."

"I don't need it, keep it."

"With all due respect Sir, I think you do." Levi snatched the book. It was a thin uniformly brown book. Even through the leather on the outside, the book bent due to a lack of pages to keep it straight. On the side, in gold lettering was "A Christmas Carol". Levi did not mind the book's appearance – it was minimalist – unfortunately, the novel did not seem to relate to war or titans, thus he could barely bring himself to care.

"I'll prove to you I don't."

"Thank you Sir."

"And for your insolence, you get to do the dishes."

"Sorry Sir." Petra quietly carried the plates. Of all people, she seemed to be the worst apprentice, she was not as unnerved by him as the others. Either the others were cowards or she was strong. Maybe she was merely stupid – she refused to buckle under the lack of caring more than the others. She still volunteered to help people from Hange's squad.

Levi marched upstairs quickly. There were two things to be done. Firstly, he had to read the book. Within five pages, he bet he could prove Petra's fallacy and maybe she would learn how not to be as insolent and wasteful. Secondly, after reading as much as he required, he would go to sleep. The next day would be a normal busy day. Due to the lack of others, he would do private training and try to come up with a few new tactics.

He opened the door to his office – he slept there to save the space on his room and forced his squad to follow suit. He lit a candle – the only fire he allowed himself to use – and began to read. There was an odd preface with a note on the Victorian publication of the book. The book was actually published as a periodical magazine story. It already seemed stupid.

He read on as Dickens babbled about the phrase 'dead as a doornail' and how Hamlet's Father's death had had to be established before the play for literary effect. There was something to the fact that Dickens was paid by the word. There was little wonder why he was so garrulous. This book was stupid.

Then he read about Scrooge. The cold hearted business man who cared for nobody and liked his loneliness. If that was who Petra thought Levi was, she was right in everything but one detail: Levi did not do his warring for selfish reasons – he fought for humanity. Either way, an event would probably make the book extremely stupid.

He read about Scrooge's hatred for Christmas and thanked Dickens for writing in a character who was not stupid. He was pragmatic and maybe even perfect if put in Levi's shoes.

He paused to check his candle – the book was not too stupid in the first five pages. Some wax already spilled over the edge but it did not make a mess. The candle seemed to have a good two hours left in it – enough time to read the story. A gust of wind made the flame appear to dance. The wind whistled through the room, emitting an eerie shriek. In the flickering flame, Levi thought an apparition appeared. In the orange light, Levi could have sworn he saw Furlan's face. The hair was correct, though fading where the oasis of flame ended. The nose and gaping mouth were accurate. The eyes had the right shape yet gained a snake-like quality through their lack of pupil. Levi shivered, attributing the illusion to tiredness and his unfortunate human state. He checked his door and the darkness, hoping not to find anything out of the ordinary.

He pressed on in his book. Scrooge was kicking out an insolent worker. Was that Petra? The nervousness suggested it was Auro or Erd. Gunther would have been too quiet for this role. Scrooge sounded tired and rightfully annoyed.

There was a silent slithering sound. Levi looked up. There were quiet, heavy footsteps. Levi looked around the dark room, blaming the wind as much as he could.

There was a knock on the door. Levi got startled and looked at the door. There was a sigh. Levi knew it had to be the wind.

The door creaked open. Behind it was a translucent Furlan figure. The figure in white – it must have merely been a look-alike – shined. The figure wore Furlan's last uniform – that of the Survey Corps – the trademark brown jacket and white trousers. He even had the harnesses and the manoeuvring gear on. Around the figure's body was the gear's wire. The wire was wrapped from the figure's right shoulder to its left waist and as Levi could see, it traced a simple path across the illusion's back.

"What?" Levi said.

"You." Came a teasing response.

"No."

"Yes."

"Never."

"Now."

"What do you want?"

"To save you."

"From?"

"Yourself."

"Who are you to say that?"

"Ask who I was."

"No. You are somebody and were that person all your life."

"No, Levi."

"I must be, what do you want me to think you are? A ghost."

"I want you to know that."

"Know? All I know is that ghosts are not real."

"Oh, really?" The figure seemed offended. Levi mused, he would also be annoyed if somebody denied the existence of his species. He focused on the figure in front of him. It was unwrapping some bandaging on its waist. He stopped unwrapping. At the most inhuman angle, the figure's back arched. It bent till the figure was nearly perfectly folded in half. At the fold, the white glow traced out organs. Intestines were cut in half and dried blood was everywhere along the fold. The figure bent up, producing a sickening squelching sound. "Well."

Levi paused, staring at the bandaging as the figure wrapped it around his waist once more. "You know," Levi finally began, "human senses are the most easily corrupted."

"So you chose to question your senses?"

"They are easily the most corruptible thing."

"I see." The figure paused. "Well, as it is, I must warn you."

"Warn me."

"Yes, you see I have been travelling and-"

"Can you sit?" Levi did not intend to cause any further awkwardness by asking the figure to sit and then finding it unable. To circumvent any of that, he simply asked.

"Yes."

"Then do."

The figure sat on the solitary seat. "As I was saying, I have been travelling and I have seem much of your work – congratulations on the promotion – and today, owing to some unknown miracle, you seem able to see me."

"And?"

"Us, the unfortunate, sinful and unclean dead must spend time in a purgatory. This is where you find me."

"So?"

"This," the figure shook its wire, "is my burden. It represents my wrongs. Your burden, at the rate at which you are going, will be much longer, larger and far more grotesque."

"And?"

"Three spirits will visit you."

"Great."

"These three I summoned for you are the only way you will not suffer as I have."

"Suffer? You seem fine."

The figure let out a shriek. Levi found himself cringing. Surely Erd would have wet his pants and Petra come running in, hearing the terrible sound? "You know nothing of the purgatory!" The figure yelled. "You, I hope, will never get to understand!"

"Understand?"

"I have travelled through these barracks and the underground slum we strove to escape! Through these places, I have seen the kindness I missed in life, the caring I would do anything to re-attempt and the love I never got to see. Everywhere, I carry this chain, reminding me of the incorrect priorities I set, the faulty values I had and the false dreams I chased! Everywhere, I am reminded that I have failed in my purpose and I have failed in living. I hope I did not fail you."

"Who were you?"

"Furlan."

"I hope you were wrong."

"Unfortunately, I can assure you I am not." Furlan stood up. "Unfortunately, I must leave now. The first ghost will come at one in the morning."

"They must have a tough job."

"Thanks to you and me." Furlan walked to the bed and Levi squirmed away, deeply discomforted by the distance from the deceased. Furlan opened the window, welcoming the freezing air. Furlan shrieked, leaping out. Levi sprang up and was hit by a horrific sight.

Outside, rising with the smoke from the many chimneys of Trost were numerous similar spirits. Each flew upwards and shrieked. Each bore a chain of their making. Each was translucent and bandaged at their fatal wound.

Levi shut the window and caught his breath. He sat on his bed. Three spirits? The must have been truly exhausted. This was proven by his instant sleep as he lay down on his bed.