Blackout785 - Well, based on the reaction, I've decided to continue it. Don't worry though. Mikasa will always follow Eren.

Brook Uchiha Daughter of Zeus - I remember it like it was yesterday.

RemNisK - I'm glad. Please keep reviewing, too.

Freezing Fyre - I'm glad. And don't worry, Mikasa will always follow Eren.

Ode 30 - I am a Soldier, yes. You'd be surprised how much free time we have when we aren't deployed. I won't say more than that, though.

theluckyshot - Thank you. I'm not gonna have anything in this story that couldn't be considered realistic, I'm sorry to say. Unfortunately, there are no shady government agencies. They all tend to be notoriously bad at keeping secrets. A good rule of thumb is that you've got about two years to keep anything secret before someone gets pissed, leaves, and tells everyone everything.

Having said that, there are plenty of other ways that certain members (RBA and sometimes Y) of the 104th Forward Combat Support Brigade can get into some very real trouble similar to what happens in AOT/SNK.

icecreamlover19 - Okay!

jrlara14 - Thank you!

tinodnyc - Thank you. I'll do my best with the humor. I think, though there will be no terrorist-shifters, you'll like what I have planned even more. Because it's real. Perhaps Armin is so shy that he just doesn't want people to know he's really a great dancer...?

maesde - You want Eremika? This chapter has a lot. Next chapter will be Aruani heavy, I think.

Seseorang - Ha ha, not what you expected, indeed. I hope this was soon enough for you. Petra is so awesome.

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Prompt: I'm not even sure if this applies anymore... The prompt is Aruani HS AU. But uh, I guess you could call this prompt 'Attack on Terrorist: Phase One: Junior Year - By Popular Demand'

Note: There is a military glossary at the bottom of this chapter. This is also the REAL first chapter of the series. The last one was just a teaser. This one has all new content though, and takes place right where the last one leaves off. Other updates might not be as quick or even in this same story arc. This is an AU and not part of my main AOT storyline.

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Title: Pompeii

(In case you couldn't tell, all my chapters are based on the songs that I think fit most. This is the most perfect match I've ever had)

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September 11, 2001, Junior Year Of High School

"Mom?" Mikasa and her brother asked simultaneously.

The tall, dark-haired girl pulled her adoptive brother even tighter to her, loudly dragging his desk across the floor in the process. She buried her head in his shoulder, grabbed for her scarf, and cringed. He didn't even try to push her away as he used to do when they were fifteen, or they way he still did whenever she forgot that public displays of affection were prohibited in school. This was no public display of affection. This was grief and fear, pure and simple. Not again. I can't go through this again. I can't lose a second mother. I... I didn't say goodbye. She made me breakfast... I got up late, couldn't-

"Guys, that's a huge, armored building," said Armin, interrupting the girl's thoughts, "And I'm sure they're doing everything they can to help those people."

"We have to get there!" said Eren, "She might be in trouble. The more people that can help, the better."

Mikasa released the young man as he started to stand, but just enough to look him in the eyes. She would have whispered, but over the other students' sobbing, the curses of disbelief, and cries of rage, she wouldn't have been heard.

"How? How are we going to get there?" she asked. Not for a second did she consider talking him out of it. The truth was, as wild and impatient as her foster-brother could be, she rarely disagreed with the young man. She only looked for more practical and reasonable means to accomplish their goals. She would stop Eren from running right for the door, however.

"Hey! Shut it, you brats! Calm the heck down."

Mikasa and Eren turned to the shouting at the front of the class. There stood a small but formidable looking man. He had a stylish cut of black hair, with, surprisingly, little wisps of gray poking through. Though he looked hardly older than Ms. Ral, or the students for that matter, something about the way he carried himself told Mikasa that his appearance belied his age. Either that, or he had seen a hard life.

The class immediately grew silent as he spoke to Ms. Ral.

"Petra, I just got a call from the principle over the PA," he said, "You, Hanji, and I have been activated. We're heading to the armory then convoying up to the Pentagon."

"Sir, what about the students?" she asked, "We just can't leave them here."

"They'll be forming up in the auditorium until their parents come to pick them up."

Just as he finished, an announcement came over the school's public address system, echoing exactly what class's new arrival had stated. Ms. Ral, Petra Ral, Mikasa had learned, dismissed the class, leading them single-file to the school's theater-turned-auditorium. The students all seemed to be of one of two minds at the moment, either walking in shocked silence or vociferous anger.

"Ms. Ral," Eren called as they arrived at their destination. He moved out of line, Mikasa following after him, "Our parents can't take off work."

"Dad can't make or receive phone calls from his job," Mikasa added, fingering her scarf, "And Mom..."

"She works at the Pentagon," finished Eren.

"I see. That will make it hard for you two to get picked up. Do you normally ride the bus? They'll be here at their normal time. You'll be released then."

"No, we walk," the tall girl said. It was a lie, one she hoped Eren wouldn't accidentally call her on. "Maybe we could work something out? If someone could sign for us, pretending to have picked us up..."

"I don't know, Mikasa... What will you do? Do you really think you should be alone-"

"Sergeant Ral, what's the hold up?" the short man asked from behind. How he had managed to sneak up on them like that, Mikasa had no clue. "People are burning to death in that building. We need to get to the armory now. I'll drive. Your students will be fine."

"Yes, Sir."

As the short man turned and headed for the front door, Mikasa clenched her fists hard, nails cutting through the tough skin of her palm. She could hear her brother's close-lipped, muffled scream.

"Just go," said Petra, "I'll cover for you. You have a driver's license?"

They both nodded.

She pulled a set of car keys from her pocket, holding them in the air in front of the siblings. "Just be careful with it. Wait until you see Mr. Levi and I leave, we'll be in his silver Mercedes. Mine is that little yellow Volkswagen in the faculty lot. I don't know when I'll be back and I don't want to leave it here anyway."

Though Eren was the first to reach for the keys, Petra placed them firmly in Mikasa's hands.

...

Using a road atlas they found in the trunk of Petra's car, the pair made their way onto the interstate and then onto the beltway. Traffic at this time of day would normally have been moderate, but today flowed unusually well. The lanes going the opposite direction, though, towards the far off and distant residences and suburbs of the nation's capital, were jammed solid. The reasoning was clear; everyone wanted to be with their families when the world fell apart. In that sense, Mikasa and her brother were no different.

With their destination in sight, their plans, Eren's plans, began to unravel. Traffic had been stopped completely in both directions. "What are we going to do?" he asked.

Mikasa looked to her right, past Eren. There was the Pentagon, one of the most secure buildings in the nation, with a column of thick black smoke rising hundreds of feet into the air. Though she couldn't see the hole from her angle, it must have been immense. What she could tell was that the smoke came from the side, not the top.

She closed her eyes and squeezed out a tear, hoping that Eren wouldn't take notice. It was a safe bet; the boy wasn't the most observant, especially when he got excited. Eren didn't know it, but their mother worked in the outer ring, not in one of the inner ones like the higher-ups. In other words, there was now a one-in-five chance that the plane had decimated her office.

Her office was now less than half a mile away from where they sat in traffic.

"Did you still want to go find mom?" she asked him.

"Hell yeah, I do! Nothing's gonna stop me."

"Well then," she said, "We go on foot."

"But... Miss Petra's car?"

"Eren, nothing is moving here. They're probably terrified that someone is going to drive a car bomb in there, so we're stuck until things calm down. That could be a while. Certainly long enough for us to go grab mom, maybe have a bite to eat, then calmly drive this thing home."

"You're brilliant!" he said, reaching across the center console to kiss her cheek.

"Thank you," she mumbled, blushing.

...

"Help me! Someone help me, please! I'm stuck! Help!"

Mikasa would have known that voice anywhere, it was her mother, her second mother, and she wasn't about to lose that one too. Eren heard it at about the same time, taking off and running in the direction of a pile of rubble mounded high against the massive structure. Mikasa took off immediately after him, pushing him forward from behind as she caught up. Firefighters, paramedics, National Guardsmen, and all their vehicles were everywhere, surrounding them, adding to the bulk of the general chaos. There was no possible way that two kids would be noticed so soon in the aftermath of such devastation.

Hoses poured torrents of water on all parts of a giant, black, gaping fissure, torn into what was once thought to be the building with one of the most impenetrable walls in the world. Though monstrous in its own right, spanning half a dozen stories high and hundreds of feet across, the burning, smoking hole looked almost quaint in the side of the much more massive fortress. It almost looked like the structure could simply shrug off such a breach.

As the pair neared their mother's cries, the heat threatened to overwhelm Mikasa's unprotected body. She was already starting to feel the tell-tale beginnings of a sunburn tickling at her face. It was a western myth that Asians couldn't be pale, and her first mother, her birth mother, was as pale as they came. Her first father had been an American of Irish descent. Suffice to say that the tall girl wasn't going to be walking out of this with a stylish tan, the pound of aloe she'd need later notwithstanding.

She looked over to Eren as they ran, her hand still behind his back and pushing. He hardly seemed to notice the heat, the suffocating smoke, the sprays of water, and the terrible noises. The boy's passion kept him going like at was both a shield and an energy source. God, she admired him for that.

They reached the rubble and skidded to a halt in front of a pair of rescue workers, one police officer and one Soldier. Between them, Mikasa saw an arm sticking out from beneath the concrete and at its base, where she could just make out a face.

"Mikasa?" the entombed woman hissed in pain, "Eren?"

Both the Soldier and the officer turned around. Of all the people in the world the girl did not expect to see, those two were at the top. Ms. Ral, no, Sergeant Ral, stood in Army fatigues, the letters M and P on her shoulder, and Officer Hannes stood next to her in his police uniform.

"Are you kids nuts?!" asked Hannes.

"Seriously?! I give you my car, and you drive it here?!" added Petra.

Not wasting a second, Eren began trying to lift the massive chunks of debris, Mikasa backing him up. Though much stronger than a girl her age, or any age, had any right to be, the concrete and steel was just too much. The kept at it until Hannes and Petra pulled them away.

"We've got a back-hoe with a claw coming," said Petra, "And your mom is stable. Be patient."

Stable was a strong word, Mikasa knew, though their mother appeared anything but. She might be suffocating, having organ failure, going into shock, or bleeding out, and that was only if the heat didn't get her first. It was downright stifling, no matter how many times the fire hoses doused them.

Hannes shook his head and turned back to their mother, "We'll get you out of here, Carla, just hang tight. Like she said, we're waiting to get the heavy equipment over here. You're next in line, so don't worry. You've still got good color, aren't breathing heavily, and are alert. It won't be long at all."

"But I can't feel my legs," the woman said.

Petra stroked the woman's cheek, brushing soot and dark hair out of her eyes, "It could just be that the nerves are bruised. It's actually good that you can't move right now. We'll get you out and stabilize you soon, you'll see."

"Bring my babies here," their mother said, "Put their hands in mine."

Before Petra could usher them forward, both Mikasa and Eren were at their mother's side, or as close as they could get to her from over the rubble. They grabbed her hand as it lay pinned, stuck reaching straight out and up. Mikasa could just barely see her face inside the debris. Her voice was terribly soft when she spoke.

"Mikasa, remember what I told you," she said, "I know Eren is so much more to you than family. You must always take care of him."

"I know, Mom."

"I love it when you call me that, even though-"

"You are my mom," she hissed, squeezing Carla and Eren's hands tightly. Her mother squeezed her hand right back while Eren winced.

"And Eren," the woman said, "Never forget that Mikasa is girl, not a boy. Find someone to teach you the difference. I'm sorry, I couldn't-"

"Shut up, Mom! You'll be fine!"

"No. You listen to me. You protect her, you got that? You also need to stop being so reckless, because after what you two have been through together, she will follow you into the deepest pits of hell. Don't think for a second that she won't."

"Yeah..." the boy muttered.

"So is that really where you want your sister to be? In hell?"

"No, I-"

"Carla," Petra interrupted. Though she remained as calm and sweet as ever, the edge in her voice had returned and the look on her face gave the impression that someone was driving nails into the balls of her feet. "Carla, I smell gas."

"Th- The heat," their mother stuttered, "W- we have propane tanks for back-up power and gas. The heat must be causing them to boil. You have to get my babies out of here, Petra."

Eren pushed the smaller woman back, knowing what was about to happen. His blow amounted to nothing against the woman's body armor. Hannes' hand was on his shoulder in an instant, pulling him back.

"We're not going anywhere without Mom!" the boy shouted, "What does that even mean?!"

"The heat..." Hannes struggled with his answer, shaking his head. "The heat, it's causing some nearby propane tanks to become over pressurized. They have valves to vent gas and relieve that pressure. If it ignites, when it ignites, the flames will follow the gas back to the source. How many tanks, Carla? And how big are they?"

"Six, each a thousand gallons, in that out-building a hundred meters to the west. Petra, from one woman to another, and Hannes, from one parent to another, please, do anything you can to get my babies out of here."

"Mom, no!" Eren shouted, "We're not going without you!"

Hannes relayed information on the leak through his radio, the smell of gas growing stronger by the second. Mikasa could barely hear the man on the other end saying that none of their equipment would be moving anywhere near an active gas leak.

"Leave me!" their mother shouted, looking directly at her son.

"Carla, I'll get them out of here," said Hannes, "And when those tanks don't blow, we'll be back to dig you out and get you to a hospital. You'll be fine until then. Eren, you and your sister need to come with us, now."

"Like hell I will," said the boy, "You need to help me get her out of there! You'll have to kill me before I move!"

That got Mikasa's attention. She would never allow harm to come to Eren, and always had his back in a fight, but right now she had no clue as to which side she should make her stand on. Protecting Eren extended to even protecting him from himself, didn't it?

But there was her mother, buried in the ruble, very much alive and aware, waiting to be rescued. She would be fine if only they could get her out, and dead if they couldn't. She needed to protect her too, didn't she? She would not lose another parent.

On the other hand, her mother had just made what could have amounted to her dying wish, a request to get her children away-

It happened before she could even notice. In hindsight, she should have caught sight of Hannes' nod to Petra. Before the girl could blink, the smaller ginger haired woman had both of Mikasa's arms wrapped painfully behind her back and around one of hers, the sergeant's free hand moving to Mikasa's shoulder to hold the girl tight against her chest. The diminutive sergeant had the six-foot tall student athlete almost on her toes from the control-hold, so severe was the angle that she had to be held at.

Mikasa struggled, but it seemed that whichever way she moved, whenever she moved, even in the slightest increment, excruciating pain shot through her shoulders and arms. Her considerable strength only seemed to work against her, pinned like this.

Eren didn't fare much better, though Hannes hadn't needed to employ such a sophisticated technique. A simple taser to the chest dropped Eren like a bag of flour. The brown-haired boy recovered almost immediately, but not before Hannes was able to carefully handcuff his wrists together from behind. Mikasa growled like a caged wolf at the man, cursing and swearing for what he had done to her brother, though she understood his reasons. Even now, as she wanted to tear the man's head off with her bare hands, she had to admit that she would probably thank him for it later.

"No! Hannes! What the hell are you doing?!" screamed Eren as the older man began leading him to safety, "Get these things off me! Stop pushing me!"

"Thank you Hannes, Petra," their mother said as the Soldier and police officer began jogging her children away from the building.

"Mom is still trapped in there! Let me go!" the young man screamed.

Eren almost had to be dragged, he was putting up such resistance. Every time his feet found purchase on the ground, his legs locking-out, halting the man pushing him forward. Hannes would then kick the boy's knee from behind, supporting him from his armpits before he started to fall, and keep him up and running.

Mikasa had her own issues. How in the world a five-foot-two woman was able to keep her, a girl who stood well over a head taller than her attacker, and who trained religiously in both weights and endurance, completely incapacitated except for her legs, was chief among them. It was all she could do to stay upright and running.

"Eren, Mikasa, live on!" their mother called after them.

Almost out of earshot, even over Eren's screaming, the blaring of sirens, and the general din around them, Mikasa heard her mother's sobbing final words.

"Please don't leave me..."

And then the world went black and all sound disappeared.

...

Three Days Later

...

"Hello, my boy, how are you doing?"

"Fine, Grandpa, I guess," Armin said into the phone, "But you know... It's not me you should be worried about."

"Yeah, I know. How are they dealing with it? God, Mikasa must be a wreck. First her real parents, then Carla. She was her mom for what, seven, eight years now since they, you know, since what happened back then..."

"Yeah. She was her mom." Armin sighed, "This is worse than before."

"Well, at least they still have Grisha. How's he doing?"

"They transferred him out of Langley," he replied, "We think it's some place far away. He's not allowed to talk about it. He calls them though, sometimes."

"Eh? So the Agency has something in mind for him," his grandfather sighed into the phone, "It's to be expected. Grisha is far too important to keep holed up in an office. Everything's changed. This kind of thing was bound to shake up the government pretty bad. How are the kids coping with his absence? Who's looking after them?"

"They're seventeen, Grandpa," he said, "Practically adults."

His grandfather chuckled at that pronouncement.

Armin continued, "But Grisha puts money in an account for them-"

"Oh-?"

"Don't worry, only Mikasa has access." Armin rolled his eyes. As smart as Eren and Mikasa's parents were, that part should have gone without saying. "And Hannes checks in on them every day."

"He's a captain in the county police, if I'm not mistaken..."

"Sorry, Captain Hannes," Armin said, then added with a smile in his voice, "Should I start calling you 'Colonel' too?"

"You can call me 'General' if you like, after this deployment."

Armin paused as he let the words sink in. So... Not only did the White House have a target in mind, but they were wasting no time in striking back and his grandfather would be leading it. He felt simultaneously proud and terrified.

The teen had lost both his parents some years ago to a plane crash crossing the Andes. They had been photographers for National Geographic, a nature magazine based in D.C., on their way to photograph some ruins in Bolivia. Though Armin had not inherited his parents' outgoing nature or rebellious attitude, he had certainly acquired a sort-of wanderlust from them.

That his grandfather, a veteran of Vietnam, Panama, Grenada, the Persian Gulf War, and Kosovo, remained alive while his peace-loving son and daughter-in-law had perished at such young ages was an irony not lost on the boy. His grandpa was all he had left in the world now. If something happened to them, Armin would have no one left to call his family.

"I want you to move in with the Jeagers," said his grandfather.

"But... I don't think they'll go for that."

"Nonsense. I wouldn't be saying this if I hadn't already cleared it with Grisha. He didn't mention he was out of town for the foreseeable future when I spoke to him, but I don't suppose he's in a position to talk about his whereabouts freely. You'll be fine, and I'm sure your friends will be ecstatic. You practically lived at their place growing up. You've even got a spare bedroom there, don't you?"

"No," Armin said, hiding his smile. "We all slept in sleeping bags together on the floor until we turned sixteen. After that, I got Mikasa's room to myself whenever I spent the night and she slept in Eren's."

"How thoughtful of her," said his grandfather, "I don't suppose their parents knew."

"Their mom is, was, very perceptive," he said, "I think she encouraged it. The relationship part, not the stuff that went with it."

"Well, keep those kids in line. We wouldn't want any more Jeagers or Ackermans running around before they're ready," the old colonel sighed heavily, "So, not to cut that subject short, but they're putting me in charge of the Third Brigade, One-Hundred First Airborne, out of Fort Campbell Kentucky. Though this is a PCS, it's also a deployment, so I won't be taking you with me until after I get back, if at all. You'll be about to graduate by then, so that wouldn't make any sense.

"Grisha and Carla were always part of my Family Care Plan. We agreed that they would take you in if I ever got deployed again. The fact they aren't there doesn't change anything, I don't think. I've got to go, but you just try and keep everyone in line and be a good boy."

"I will, Grandpa, I promise. Goodbye."

Amin hit the 'End Call' button and handed the cell phone to Annie. She didn't take it, instead pointing to the open glove box in front of where he sat. He placed it inside as she turned the ignition key and threw the shifter into first gear. He couldn't guess what kind of car this was, beyond 'big-loud-old-shiny-red-Chevrolet,' but he could tell that it had been well cared for and might have been the kind of automobile usually featured in classic car magazines. He made a mental note to read a few of those at the library.

Where they were going he didn't know and wouldn't ask. All he knew was today was Friday, school had just let out, and somehow, when Annie had overheard Armin asking if anyone had a quarter to use a pay phone, the sullen blonde girl had offered help. What he had not been expecting was a short trip to a convenience store parking lot to use the very illicit cell-phone she kept in her car. Beyond that, he she might be driving him out to the woods to kill him for all he knew. Maybe he should ask her to stop for ice cream first.

He would have suggested if maybe she might like to meet up with Mikasa and Eren, but the pair were still very much in a state of grief. Understandably, they hadn't been at school since it happened. Since the world changed. He had offered to come over several times and, like today, had mostly been shot down. They needed time and space to grieve together.

To Armin, and probably to them as well, it was a repeat of what happened eight years ago, only this time Eren couldn't do anything to help. He blamed himself for that, and naturally Mikasa blamed herself. In the dark-haired girl's words, 'It was my time to save someone, and I couldn't do anything. I froze. Again. I failed.' Armin didn't believe that for a second, but it wasn't like he could convince her otherwise.

For now though, the pair barely left Eren's room, except to use the bathroom or to go get food and bring it back to the room. Like their first four years together, they had resumed sharing a bed. For a brother and sister it should have been terribly strange, but those terms only applied to them in a purely legal sense. They were more husband and wife than anything else.

"What's on your mind?" Annie asked, just as she made a hard right turn, the force almost throwing him into her lap. That, and the screeching of tires, pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, nothing, just zoning out," he said. He was being rude, he knew. This girl had done him a favor, though a morally questionable favor, and the least he could do would be to provide good company. "You know, they'll expel you if you get caught with a phone on school grounds, even if it's in your car."

"The heck do I care?" Annie asked, "We'll just move again."

"And after I just started to get to know you?"

"Meh. Get to know someone else. Someone who doesn't do you anymore favors." She threw the shifter into another gear and gunned the engine.

Now that actually hurt him. It didn't mean he was wrong; either one of them could have been expelled if they had been found out, but it did mean he shouldn't have been a bit more tactful. And if he were honest with himself, by not refusing her offer he given her his tacit approval. To condemn her now smacked of hypocrisy.

Armin changed the subject. "So how do you like JROTC?" he asked, "Are you worried since the attack that there might be a war?"

Anyone could have guessed that there would be a war after what happened. Once they found out whoever was responsible, the nation where the terrorists called home would only be useful as a parking lot for the next hundred years. That Armin now had inside information was totally irrelevant.

"I hope there's a war," she said.

That shocked the boy. He eyed her askance as she drove them into a large strip-mall.

She twitched an eyebrow at him, the most emotion he's seen from her since they met. "What good is a Soldier if there aren't any wars to fight?"

"That's one way of looking at it," the boy admitted.

"If you're worried about me, don't be. I'm going MI."

"What's MI?" he asked.

She pulled into a spot, pulled up the parking brake, and turned off the loud engine. "Military Intelligence," she said, "They're big in this area, especially with the NSA right next door."

He was about to ask what the NSA was before she continued.

"It's the best job you can get in the Army, or the whole military for that matter. You stay far behind the front lines, get treated like a queen, work on top secret things with the CIA, interrogate prisoners, and when you're all done and your contract is up, you get a high-paying job in the government. All without ever having to fire a single shot."

She got out of the car and headed for the building in front of them, a large record store. Armin slid off the leather seats and followed.

"So, if that's the best, then what's the worst?" he asked, "What's the most dangerous job with the least reward?"

"Well, some branches don't allow females," she said, "So, as far as I'm concerned, without question, it's the MPs. The Military Police. All they are is mounted front-line infantry with better toys, slightly bigger brains, and allow women."

I do this for the reviews. You too, Tumbeasts, keep me motivated ;)

...

Glossary:

Langley - The location of CIA headquarters in Northern Virginia

The Agency - Government-speak for the CIA

CIA - Central intelligence agency. Center for foreign intelligence in the U.S.

NSA - National Security Agency. Does cryptography and generally passive intelligence gathering in both foreign and domestic arenas

PCS - Permanent Change of Station. When the military makes you move to a new residence

Deployment - Going to war (generally)

Form up - Assemble in an area. Though context dependent, it will usually mean getting into a formation when you get there.

Fort Meade - Considered a retirement post south of Baltimore, MD for higher-ranking personnel who aren't going to get promoted much higher. Lots of office jobs for military personnel and also home of the NSA.

Fort Campbell - In Kentucky. This is home to the 101st Airborne (Air Assault) Division and it sees a lot of deployments.

Control-Hold - This are used by Military Police, Civilian Police, and Corrections. When you don't want to simply take someone down, or twist them into a pretzel, but you have to move them somewhere or get them to do something, you use these. Can also be known as Pain-Compliance. Super-Effective.