These characters are under copyright by Hajime Isayama and/or Kodansha Comics or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.

A/N:
Because of the introductory words to the manga, "To You, 2,000 Years from Now", many people believe Attack on Titan took place in earth's past, 2,000 years ago. However, characters are also listed in various materials as being of American or French or other national descent, and there are also elements of technology that don't fit that sort of timeline. From things I have seen and read, I view it as taking place in a dystopian future, rather than in the past or on another world altogether, a future Earth where, because of the plague of the Titans, mankind has been reduced to somewhere between Medieval, Renaissance and Industrial Revolution/Steampunk technology. There are, after all, cannons and guns and maneuver gear, and giant Walls erected using lost engineering technologies. I also have my own hypothesis on the origin of the Titans, which would bear this out.

As a result, in my story, you might have noticed the boats in the Aqueduct 3 maintenance corridor were made of plastic, a wondrous all but lost material. And Pixis mentioned French and British elite military units, when speaking about his Special Forces troops. Similarly, the journal entry contained within this chapter describes that dystopian future Earth, and the book titles in the Library in Chapter 40 reflect it as well.

Greek translation:

agapimeni - sweetheart

Chapter 38 – Family Skeletons

Armin was pleased to see Costas and Lieutenant Konstantinos happily together, before they left camp, and relieved that Eren and Mikasa were talking again as well, though the latter still had a number of issues to work out. He hated seeing his friends unhappy. The worst was, he couldn't even help, because he'd only make it worse and end up with both of them angry with him. He knew, because he'd tried before, when they were only friends. Now that Eren and Mikasa were sleeping together, in a lot of ways their relationship was far more fragile. He only hoped that Levi and Erwin were having a better time of it, back at their base.

He still wasn't sure the Lieutenant had the authority to extend their leave, but he'd been insistent about it, even more so, out of gratitude to Armin for helping him patch things up with his lover. It had been a little depressing, knowing he was the only one in the camp who was alone, especially since a few of their friends had also hooked up, after the last mission. Apparently Sasha and Connie were seeing one another now, as were Ymir and Krista. Everyone knew Bertolt and Reiner had always been together, though they still hadn't admitted it. And now even Eren and Mikasa were finally a couple. His friends were pairing up two by two, all except for him.

Part of him, the selfish part, hoped Hypatia was alone, that she was as lonely as he was. The other part just wanted her to be happy. But maybe she could be happy with him. If not…there was always Jean. Jean was alone, too. He knew Jean was interested in Mikasa, not him, and he was pretty sure Jean didn't like guys that way. If he had, he and Marco would have been together. Unless there had been a different reason? Maybe Marco was too nice? Nice was boring. People thought he was nice too, but now he was a murderer. Which actually would be a really sick reason to want someone.

"Armin, you're thinking too hard," Mikasa chastised.

Her words made him smile. She sounded just like Levi. He sighed, a little wistfully. Levi still scared him, a little, but…if Levi hadn't been so obviously in love with Erwin…he knew Levi had said he wasn't his type. But still, after some of the things he'd said, maybe….

0 0 0

After they broke camp and parted from the other Scouts, they continued their journey, the rest of which was thankfully uneventful. They made it to Stohess without a problem, and then into the Capital. They stabled their horses at the Garrison 3 stables, because the Survey Corps didn't have an active stable in the Capital, and they wanted to be sure their horses were safe and well looked after. Then they headed for the entrance to the Underground, donning their hooded cloaks in an alleyway. They covered the packs, uniforms, maneuver gear and weapons with their cloaks, giving them all an odd, hunchbacked appearance.

People looked at them differently now. Scouts weren't often seen in the Capital, so before the people they'd passed had either ignored them, or looked at them in surprise, or sometimes in respect or even in amused disdain. Now they looked at them suspiciously, even fearfully. Armin was glad the entrance to the Underground wasn't too far away. He hadn't realized the cloaks would draw attention to them aboveground. He hoped they had the desired effect belowground at least.

They found the entrance to the Underground without any trouble and began carefully backtracking the route they'd taken to the surface. As they retraced their steps in reverse, at some of the intersections all three of them had to pause and debate the correct way to turn. Armin was glad Eren and Mikasa were with him. He might well have gotten lost, if he'd come alone. After the first few such intersections, they began subtly marking their trail near the floor, so the tiny but distinctive stylized "F", for Freeranger, would be less likely to be noticed by anyone else. They couldn't afford to get lost on the way out, now that they didn't have Captain Levi to lead them.

Once they were in the Underground, the belowground city proper, the real challenge began, as they stuck close to the buildings, as the others they saw did, and Armin tried to match the streets he was seeing with the map in his head of the route to the Library that he and his grandfather had taken so long ago. So far, nothing looked familiar, but then, he was seeing it from a different perspective, too, a somewhat higher height, and with an adult's eyes, not a child's.

He belatedly realized he should have tried to find out whether Hypatia or any of her men had been captured by the Military Police, although it would have been hard to learn whether or not they had. The Military Police and Scouts looked down on one another. He hoped everyone had made it safely away.

Finally, just when he was starting to think they might be stuck down there for days without finding their way, they came to a street that Armin recognized, not from days ago, with Levi, but from years ago, when he had come down there with his grandfather. He eagerly began heading toward the Library, or at least, where it had been then. He hoped they hadn't moved it. Belatedly he realized they well might, to help stay hidden, although his grandfather hadn't mentioned that and their building had been pretty impressive.

When he finally saw the familiar building, his heart started to pound. "That's it. The one on the left."

"But it looks totally abandoned," Eren said, in disappointment.

Armin shrugged. "It looked that way when I was here with Grandfather too. Come on. Remember, I need to go first. And let me do the talking."

"Just be ready to flee, if we need to. We drop our packs and run, use our maneuver gear to get away. Let her read the letter in the book and then we come back ten hours later, once she's had a chance to read it, and think about what you wrote, and see what we brought them," Mikasa counseled.

Armin nodded. He'd written the letter in camp, the day they'd been forced to stay there, while he recovered enough from the blood loss to travel safely. He hoped to speak to Hypatia in person, but he knew she didn't trust him.

They approached the building warily. Armin was certain they were being watched, now. His heart pounded even harder, as he approached the door and it fluttered, when he saw the familiar symbol of the owl, this time in metal, in the shape of a doorknocker. He wrapped the knocker against the door six times, once for each letter in Athena's name. When the little metal plate slid aside, in anticipation of the passcode, his mouth suddenly felt so dry, he was afraid he'd be unable to speak.

"Arlert, son of Athena. I come seeking knowledge, the key to true freedom," he warbled, instead of speaking solemnly and clearly as his grandfather had. But it apparently didn't matter, because after a brief hesitation, the door swung slowly open.

Armin took a deep breath and walked inside, Mikasa and Eren at his heels.

Armin let out a strangled yelp, as the barrel of a gun was thrust against his cheek.

"You have balls, using your name, and coming here, after I recognized you, after I told you what I'd do the next time I saw you," Hypatia said coldly.

"Don't hurt my friends!" Armin squeaked, his heart pounding. He had to protect Mikasa and Eren! "I brought Grandfather's book! It's yours too, everything we brought except for that was already for you, just please let them go."

"We're not leaving without you," Mikasa snapped, ignoring the gun pressed into her side.

"You have no idea who you're messing with," Eren threatened, in spite of the gun jammed into his back.

"No, Eren, don't! I don't want to hurt them!" Armin cried desperately, knowing what Eren was threatening.

Hypatia laughed, coldly. "Hurt us?"

"Lady Hypatia! They didn't come alone!" an anxious voice cried.

"What?" Armin yelped. "But we did! I mean, if there's someone else, they're not with us." Did someone follow us? For how long? How far? His heart was pounding twice as hard as before, and suddenly he felt dizzy, lightheaded. That was bad. He needed to stay alert, to think clearly, to…he swayed and stumbled, reaching out to catch himself.

"Armin!" Mikasa yelled.

Something hard slammed into him and he fell, crushed by the weight on top of him as almost simultaneously he heard a single gunshot and cursing, before he heard Hypatia yell, "Stop! Ceasefire!"

Eren! Mikasa!

"Eren! Were you hit?" Mikasa's frantic voice cried almost directly in Armin's ear, and he belatedly realized she was the one on top of him, and thankfully, wasn't the one who was shot.

"Fuck! They were aiming at Armin. I thought…lucky for them, we're all fine," Eren snapped, and suddenly Armin could breathe again, even with Mikasa squishing him.

There was the sound of frantic pounding on the door, and then six sharp raps with the knocker, and a muffled voice. "It's Dorotheos! Don't shoot them! Let me in!"

"Open it! Quickly! Cover him!" Hypatia commanded.

The door was opened, and a cloaked figure darted in. He dropped immediately to the ground beside them. "Damn it. Armin, Mikasa, which one of you was hit? Where? Eren, try to stay calm," the man who just entered ordered. But it couldn't be!

"Commander Pixis? What are you doing here, sir?" Armin asked, bewildered.

There was an outcry, a curse and a sigh. "I really wish you hadn't called me that here, son," he said ruefully, and Armin saw to his alarm that the three gun barrels were now jabbing into the Commander's back.

"Seriously? They brought the head of the entire damned Garrison with them!" one of the men yelled.

"He's not here to arrest anyone! You aren't, are you Uncle?" Hypatia asked, a note of pleading in her voice.

"Of course not, agapimeni. I came to make certain you were safe, to see if anyone was injured from the Military Police attack a few days ago and needed a medic, and to tell you I arranged an escape for your man Thomas, though it took a bit of doing. I'd have brought him with me, but he's in a doctor's care, and it's not safe to move him, yet. I'm sorry, honey, but the Military Police worked him over pretty badly, when he was in their custody, before I could get him out.

"I didn't hear about this latest raid ahead of time, and after the fact, it seems I received incomplete information in a debriefing and didn't hear about it then, either. But fortunately, I could tell something was left out, and I was paranoid enough that I sent a few of my men to check and see if there had been any arrests down here recently, which is how I found Thomas. Then, when some of my men told me Armin, Eren and Mikasa had returned and stabled their horses at our base, and described what they were carrying, and I thought they might be headed down here, I figured now was as good a time as any to visit. I'm glad I came when I did.

"Hypatia honey, if you could tell these three men to get their guns out of my back, I'd really appreciate it. I wouldn't want someone to accidentally sneeze at an inconvenient moment," Pixis said coolly.

"Jasper, Darrow, Keith. Please don't shoot Uncle Dorotheos. I know he's not much to look at, but he's the only family I have left," Hypatia said, sounding worn to the bone again.

"Your Uncle Dorotheos, this man we have known for years, is Commander Dot Pixis?" one of the other men asked incredulously, as if still trying to wrap his mind around it.

"Yes, Jerrod. Although technically, he is actually my cousin. But he's so much older than I am, I have always just called him 'Uncle', as my father did before me. Dot is a nickname, short for Dorotheos. His name means 'God's gift' in our tongue, but it's not his fault it's so pretentious. He actually gave himself the nickname usually used for the female form of his name, Dorothy, because he doesn't feel anyone else should bear my ancestor's name, when it is still wrongfully tarnished. He has always hoped to one day clear it. He's named after my grandfather, and my great-great grandfather, before him, the latter of whom was actually an infamous traitor to the City.

"By our people's tradition, Uncle Dorotheos should instead have been named after his own ancestor, Thesmophoros, who had the irony to be named "law-bringer". The firstborn son is usually named after the grandfather, as the firstborn daughter is named after the grandmother. We've done so for millennia.

"If it makes you feel any better, it will perhaps enlighten you to know that in our family, as crimes go, any betrayal of family, fratricide, for instance, is frowned upon far more strongly than treason against the government, with good reason. I am happy to carry on the tradition of the latter, considering the current state of our illustrious government is as pitiful as it was over a century ago, when my great-great grandfather was indirectly murdered by Uncle Dorotheos's.

"Please, let the others up and bring everyone inside, and I will tell you the sad story, if you wish to hear it. If we were going to be attacked by the Garrison, it would have happened by now already. It is true Uncle Dorotheos commands them, but only because some people choose to work within the system, in an attempt to change it. It might reassure you to know that he also owns more than one banned book and has entrusted to me many others. He does not believe books should be banned, or burned, that any knowledge is wrong to have. Knowledge sets us free, even when we are all caged in this great pen like sheep, only awaiting the Titans to eat us all."

There was muttering from above, and Commander Pixis sighed. "Thank you. I'm going to have an interesting shaped bruise on my back ribs, come tomorrow. I suppose that's one silver lining of my current dry spell of lovers. There's no one to see it and get upset."

Armin couldn't believe Pixis would say something like that, make a joke at his own expense, in such a tense situation, but in the next moment, he admired him for it. He made it so hard for anyone to ever feel endangered by him. It had enabled him to work into a position of power, without anyone seeing him as a threat to their own. Until the Titan attack on Trost, no one had ever taken Pixis seriously, least of all, the bulk of his own men.

Pixis continued. "Forgive me for causing so much commotion, Hypatia, but I was eager to see you, for a reason other than the attack against you and your captured man. I've discovered there's actually more to the story, now. I know your men all likely think as poorly of the Survey Corps as they do of the rest of us, sadly, even though the Corps gives their lives to protect us all.

"But Hypatia, I think you understand a little better, and I thought you'd want to know that through his actions, the very ones that led to great-great uncle Dorotheos's sacrifice of his own life, he actually saved the lives of the entire Survey Corps, on their latest expedition, those who managed to come back alive, after facing a coordinated ambush by well over a hundred Titans. Yes, I said coordinated, yes, I said ambush, and yes, I said over one hundred. These three you have here managed to come home alone, safely, hundreds of kilometers from where they were attacked. I may not warrant your respect, but they sure as hell should.

"So in spite of all the panic they caused, I am glad they are here. I think these three Scouts, more than anyone, save you, will want to know what your ancestor did. It's safe to get up now, Armin, Mikasa. It's not worth as much as it is topside, but you are under my protection, and fortunately, I have at least one friend, or relative, actually, in a high place, down here."

Mikasa rose and then Armin stood cautiously. He was intrigued by Pixis's words but also relieved to find the dizziness had passed, at least for the moment, though his arm hurt like hell again. He needed to try to stay more calm. He was apparently still working at a deficit, when it came to blood. He was glad he hadn't lost any more, but especially, that Eren and Mikasa were both safe. And Commander Pixis, in spite of him accidentally revealing the Commander's identity to Hypatia's people. And it was apparent she, at least, had already known it.

Armin recognized the names of some of the men with the guns. Two of them, Jasper and Darrow, had checked on their fallen friends, and Levi had knocked the other one, Keith, unconscious. He was glad they weren't the ones who had harmed them, and that Levi wasn't here. It might have gotten even uglier than it had.

They followed Hypatia, surrounded by her men, into a room with a number of sofas and chairs, all mismatched, worn, patched and stained, obviously discards from the surface, some ridiculously ornate, others comfortable looking. "Remove your cloaks carefully, your packs, and your jackets and then sit," Hypatia commanded.

All four of them complied. Armin wasn't surprised to see the Commander didn't have a uniform on under his own cloak, or maneuver gear, considering these men hadn't known he was in the military, but he did have on a respectably sized pack. He wondered what was in it.

Armin was again glad Levi wasn't here. Between the bedbugs and fleas likely in the cushions, he doubted he'd have sat. He wasn't all that eager to either. But in a moment of inspiration, he laid his grey cloak on the cushion surreptitiously, then folded his cape and jacket and kept them in his lap, hoping to minimize the passengers he came home with. He realized that by taking off their jackets, their status as military would be a little less conspicuous, in spite of their maneuver gear, and admired Hypatia anew for arranging for them to do that.

"Armin! You're bleeding again," Mikasa said in concern.

Armin looked at his arm in surprise and saw a red stain. Drat.

"What happened, son?" Pixis asked, his voice warm with fatherly concern.

"We were attacked on the way here, by men, not Titans. He was shot," Mikasa said.

One of the men, Jerrod, Armin thought, snorted derisively. "Who'd even bother?"

Mikasa rounded on the man angrily. "One of the ten men he killed," she snapped.

"Right. Like that little pipsqueak has ever…"

Armin turned and looked at the man, and something in his eyes or face must have betrayed him.

"Holy shit," Jerrod, his eyes widening, and he sounded subdued and suddenly respectful.

"How many men attacked you? Do we need to send out a patrol to get the others?" Pixis asked, sounding impressed.

"We got them all. There were a dozen, and I got the first two, before I was knocked out. Eren was ambushed before we even knew they were there," Mikasa said.

Eren, who had been gaping at him, turned to Mikasa, looking shell-shocked. "What the hell do you mean, Armin killed them? I thought you did. Why the hell were you hiding something like that from me?" Eren accused.

"No one hid anything. I thought you knew," Mikasa said. Then she shifted her attention to Hypatia. "We brought some medical gear for you and your people, along with the food and other supplies in our packs for you. I'm sorry, but I need to use some of it, if you'll let me. It happened two days ago, and Armin lost a lot of blood at the time, before we realized he was injured," Mikasa apologized.

"Get what you need and treat him," Hypatia allowed.

"Thank you," Mikasa said gratefully. She reached for Armin's pack.

"I don't think anything in there will help, Mikasa. I brought painkillers and something for fevers, but I didn't bring any antibiotics, except for the alcohol. I assumed they'd have something they could use as bandages, and I didn't want to waste the space. I figured pain and fevers were probably the worst, that people were probably hurt and got sick a lot down here," Armin apologized.

"I can help with that," Pixis said. "I was afraid some of your men might have been injured in the Military Police attack, Hypatia, so I brought one of our medical kits with me. I had an exciting tale of derring-do all prepared, to tell you in front of your men, describing how I acquired it, too, since it's obvious it's military issue. I guess I'll have to save that for another time, put a different spin on it and use it to explain away something else I've done," he added with a grin.

Armin wouldn't put anything past the man. It sounded like he'd lied to Commander Erwin about Commander-in-Chief Zackly's orders, and Commander Erwin had actually believed him. He hadn't thought anyone could fool Commander Erwin about anything. Well, maybe except for Captain Levi.

He looked down at his arm, once Mikasa removed the bandage and then looked quickly away. It looked really bad, not as bad as Levi's leg when they'd first tended to it, and it was infected, but after that. It was hard to believe that was really his arm.

"You're going to be fine, Armin. Remember, Yeorgos said there wasn't any bone or nerve damage," Mikasa reminded him.

Armin had accidentally locked eyes with Pixis when he looked away from the wound. If he hadn't been looking right at him, he wouldn't have seen him react at all. There was just the slightest widening of his eyes. But one of the men, Darrow, Armin thought, was still immediately suspicious.

"I thought the three of you were alone. Who the hell is Yeorgos?" he demanded.

"Yeorgos is a medic. His Team was fortunately on a mission nearby, when we were attacked, and when they heard the gunshots, they came to investigate. He and Demetrios were the two medics who treated us," Armin volunteered, not mentioning the were Survey Corps or even Garrison, making it sound more like a Medical Corps operation. "Don't worry, they're not here. They should be in Karanese by now, though we managed to make them late. They insisted on staying with us while we rested for a day, to ensure Eren's and Mikasa's head injuries were alright, and that I rested and ate before traveling, so I wouldn't pass out."

To his relief, the man looked appeased, though still wary.

Armin did his best not to flinch, not to react at all while Mikasa cleaned his wound. He needed to look tough, like Mikasa or Levi, in front of these men.

"I want to see what's in these packs," one of the men challenged.

"Go ahead, Matt," Hypatia urged.

No wonder he sounded so suspicious and surly! Armin remembered Matt was the name of the other man Levi had knocked out. It must have been humiliating to have been taken out by a man on crutches.

Matt began unpacking Armin's bag first. There were a number of surprised and appreciative comments about the food, the oil, and soaps. The man held Armin's grandfather's book reverently, and immediately handed it to Hypatia.

"As I told you, it belonged to my grandfather. I brought it for you to see, but I'm hoping you'll let me keep it. It's very special to me, and to Eren, and it's the only thing I have left of my grandfather," Armin said.

"We'll see," Hypatia said, but there was a tenderness in her voice and eyes that was promising.

The man unpacked the rest of the main compartment, and then reached for the front pouch flap, and Armin risked speaking again. "Wait. The things inside there are specifically for Hypatia. But everything in the rest of it and in Eren's and Mikasa's packs, including the packs themselves, is for all of you."

"We share everything," Hypatia said. "Open it," she commanded.

Armin blushed, as the man opened up the flap and peered inside and then reached inside cautiously, a look of mistrust on his face, like he expected something to bite him. He took out the carefully wrapped flowers and the scarf, and Armin blushed darker. He handed them to Hypatia wordlessly, but his lips were twitching in amusement. Then he took out the Scout lighter and looked sharply at Armin. "What's this?" he demanded.

"It's a Scout lighter. We're the only ones who have them. The Survey Corps, I mean. Well, except for the four we left down here with our other supplies, the smoked venison and candles and things we brought last time, that we left in Orphan Alley after we…parted ways with you. We brought our three replacement lighters for all of you. You use it with alcohol, instead of a flint and steel or tinder box, for making fires." Armin bit his lip and looked guiltily at Commander Pixis.

"Really now, Armin. Losing your lighter is practically a hanging offense, in the Corps. How are you going to explain losing your replacement?" Pixis teased.

Armin blushed. "Captain Levi said he'd take care of replacing the other ones so…I don't know that those are actually going to be officially recorded anywhere as being lost. We figured we'd pay to replace these, if they made us, or just do without. You all certainly need them more than we do."

"And after all, you'd already spent so much of your hard earned salary buying all the rest of this for my cousin, and her men," Pixis said pointedly. "By the way, speaking of Captain Levi, I doubt any of you men even realized that civilian with the crutches who was with these three earlier was Captain Levi, did you?"

There were a series of curses, and shocked and surprised comments.

"No wonder he could fight like that!" one man said.

"Holy shit!" another exclaimed.

"We're lucky we're still alive!" a third added.

"So he wasn't just bragging when he said that," a fourth said ruefully.

"Sorry Keith. No wonder he took you out so easily. I didn't realize it was him," Darrow apologized.

Mikasa patted Armin's arm, and he realized she was letting him know she was done bandaging it. He pulled down his bloody sleeve over the fresh bandage.

Armin was relieved Pixis had told them. "He's the one who suggested we leave everything behind for people who needed it more than we did, and told us where to leave it, and ordered us to include our lighters. Although when we saw him donate his own, we would have anyway. We made sure to bring as much as we could carry this time, too. There was more in the tunnel, but if you didn't already find it, the bugs will have eaten it all by now, even the candles and oil. But the lanterns will still be there.

"We wished we could bring more, this time, but we brought all we could carry. We tried to think of everything you needed and could use most, but we weren't sure if we were missing something. We plan to bring more with us next time, whatever you tell us to bring. I mean, if you let us come back to visit you. And even if not," he said, turning to face Hypatia. "I figured I could still smuggle some things to you, leave them at your doorstep or near a window or something, and hope you found them, before someone else. Although many of the rest of the Lurkers need these things just as much, we were afraid the wrong people would find them, some of the bad people who live down here, preying upon the rest of you."

"Why are you so eager to help us?" Hypatia challenged.

"Because no one else is. And no one should have to live like this. We know, because we lived like this. We're all from Shiganshina, not just me. We were there when it fell. We were orphaned refugees. We scavenged for every scrap of food we ate, every rag we wore, for years, until we joined the military as cadets. That's not why we joined, so we could eat, we joined for revenge, and to ensure no one else ever had to live through what we did. But it makes me sick, that hundreds of thousands of people were sent to their deaths, just so the rest wouldn't starve. That some people, the ones down here, are still starving, while others eat meat every day. That the damned dogs of some of those privileged bastards in the Capital eat better than other people's children," Armin complained bitterly.

"Sadly, the world has always been that way. But it doesn't have to be. It shouldn't be," Pixis said. "I'm doing what I can, to change things, working from within the system. But I've crossed the line a number of times in the past, and will likely do so in the future, until I get caught, or killed for it, like Great-Great Grand Uncle Dorotheos. Frankly, I couldn't imagine a more noble or more tragic way to die, than his death, and that's saying something, considering the number of Survey Corps reports I've read. At least I don't have a brother, to kill me. The Pixis name dies with me, it would have even had you been born a man, Hypatia, not that there is anything wrong with Papadreaos. Although all things considered, having the Pixis name end with me is perhaps for the best." He sighed.

"I brought his journal with me. I don't know how much your father told you about it, or about your ancestor, Hypatia. I know Theon wanted to wait for some of it, until you were older, so you could understand better. I'm fortunate you grew up knowing me, or I might have lost all contact with the last family I have, when he died. If I might?" he asked, indicating his pack.

One of the men scoffed. "It should be safe. It's not like any of you thought to bring us weapons."

"A stick can be a weapon. He thought you could use medical gear and we thought you could use the food more," Eren snapped. He'd been remarkably silent and restrained, so far.

"He is right, Samuel. Perhaps you would respect these Scouts more, had you stood against them, as we did. When I last saw them, I had my knife at Armin's throat and told him I would kill him if I ever saw him again, and I meant every word, at the time. Would you have risked coming back to see me, when promised such a welcome?" Hypatia challenged.

The man looked away, cowed by her, and Armin's heart fluttered. She was so amazing! She had the respect of all of these tough, hard men, and she'd made it sound like he was the one who was brave.

Pixis carefully opened his pack and pulled out something thin and flat, wrapped in a cloth. He carefully unwrapped it, revealing a worn leather-bound book. The cover was stained nearly black in places, and when he opened it and flipped through the yellowed pages, toward the back, the pages were dirty and wrinkled and died brown in some blotchy spots so dark that many of the words were nearly illegible, and Armin realized they were old bloodstains.

"I'll be translating the last two pages, for those of you unfortunate enough not to have been born Greek, or to have picked up the language in your travels," Pixis said, referring to either Armin or Levi, most likely the latter, since it had sounded like the Captain was fluent in it. "But before I begin reading, the rest of you need to hear about the most recent mission of the Survey Corps, though I'm sure even down here, you heard something about it. Bad news travels quickly, I'm afraid, and news about the Scouts has always travelled like wildfire.

"I'm sure you all heard of the catastrophic losses they suffered, but you won't know the details. The Survey Corps set out with 150 men this time around, of whom 75 are now dead, missing or permanently maimed, and they were damned lucky that's all they lost. Still, only 75 men returned who will be able to fight again, 11 of them who are still facing a rather lengthy recovery, as well as a number of those officially categorized as walking wounded. The earlier estimate of what they faced, a hundred Titans, that you heard me mention actually fell more than a little shy of the mark. They were attacked by closer to 150, 144 or so, as near as we can tell, approximately three dozen on all four sides. They attacked simultaneously, in a coordinated assault, a planned, intelligent attack, with the apparent intent of herding the entire wedge into a single tight mass, so they could devour it."

Armin watched the others as Pixis spoke. They hung riveted upon his every word.

"They would have succeeded, too, if it weren't for two extraordinary factors they failed to take into account: the astonishing skill and bravery of Captain Levi, and the presence of something even the Corps had no idea was out there – Titan traps. Some unknown individuals had at some point in time constructed dozens of enormous pits, 20 meters on a side, and 20 meters keep, imbedded a series of two meter high metal spikes in the floor of each, and covered the whole thing over in wood, dirt and grass, to conceal them.

"When the Titans attacked the Corps' formation, and Captain Levi saw three dozen Titans converging upon his position, his Squad of four men, he realized when he saw the smoke grenade trails at the left flank, and in the forward and rear positions that they were all being simultaneously similarly attacked. He then heroically and suicidally sent out a signal calling the rest of the wedge to fall to his position, while he and his squad attacked the onrushing enemy. Think about that for a moment: four men, against 36 Titans, over a third of them 15 meter class, and close to a third Aberrants.

"Captain Levi knew there was no way in hell he'd live through that, but there was a forest beyond the right flank, and he knew the trees there might provide the height and cover some of his fellow Scouts needed to survive, to use their maneuver gear, if they could make it there, and he was damned well going to do everything in his power to see that at least some of them did.

"By all rights, no one should have survived that attack. But then, something extraordinary happened: two dozen of the Titans attacking the right flank vanished. Captain Levi said it was if the very Earth had become a single giant Titan and swallowed them whole. And he was damned near right.

"What he found out and then experienced himself, the hard way, when he was riding on the back of a Titan and the ground gave way beneath their feet, was those pits I described. He was on crutches when you met him because he was thrown down onto one of those spikes, and it went through his leg. He made those crutches you saw by hand, while the spike was still in his leg, from the broken planking that had covered that pit. He hacked those crutches out of pieces of that ancient but still sound chemically treated wood with his swords. Then he used the last of his gas and his grapples to pull himself off the spike and out of the pit. So you can damned well be sure that a man who faced three dozen Titans without flinching, killed a number of them and then escaped certain death like that could have killed every last one of you without blinking, if he'd wanted to.

"Captain Levi had no idea who had built those pits, and I didn't enlighten him, when I debriefed him, even though I knew all about them. I'd known about them for years. The only thing is, I had no idea where the hell they were. Because the journal that should have been buried along with them was instead found with the author's body, and brought to the Capital, long before the Gates were closed for what they thought would be the last time. And those pits that had cost the lives of dozens of brave and dedicated men, men who had died thinking they'd dug them for nothing, were forgotten – for over a century – until a little over a week ago.

Armin had listened to Pixis tell the tale as spellbound as the rest, though he'd fought that battle, lived through it, and heard Captain Levi report what had happened. Levi had recited all he'd seen and done dispassionately, making his astonishing accomplishments sound trivial, insignificant. Armin had known they were amazing, but he hadn't realized how amazing, until he heard Pixis recount it, with so much fire and passion in his voice.

"Now I'm going to read to you the final words of a brave, noble, selfless and vilified man, a man accused of treason and mutiny, and condemned to an ignoble death, a little over a hundred years ago, a man I'm proud to be related to, a gentleman and a scholar, a historian and an engineer, a soldier and a father, though sadly, he never knew the latter. Elena took his surname, after he died, and gave it to their son, though she never officially married the man: Captain Dorotheos Andreas Pixis, Special International Corps of Engineers, Third Division." Pixis's voice was choked with emotion, as he turned his eyes to the page he had opened the book to and began reading.

A Wall. Hundreds of thousands of years of civilization, and we're reduced to building and relying upon a freaking Wall. "It worked for China. It kept them safe." Sure, until the Hun invasion. The problem with a Wall is, all it takes is a single weak point, and someone goes over it or under it or through it. "We'll imbed it so deep, they can't tunnel under it. Besides, the Titans don't dig." Right. Until a smart one is born, or hatched, or created out of thin air, or rises up from hell or comes down from space, wherever it is those fuckers come from. We used to know, I'm sure we did, but everyone who did is long dead, and God forbid they write it down for those of us who came after. Probably figured there'd be no one left to read it, and they'd have been damned near right.

And how the hell do you patrol something that massive? "We'll put these four villages like bubbles, equally spaced along the edges, to draw the Titans, and focus our forces on guarding there." Sure, like chum to a shark, to bait it so a diver can take a picture. SCUBA divers. The ocean. Ships. Granddad told me about that, how at first, they thought the ocean would protect them, keep them safe. I still think maybe there are some isolated islands out there that might still be safe. Not big ones, of course, not Australia, or even Hawaii or Japan. But maybe some of the Pacific Islands. Or Antarctica.

Once we flew in the sky, hell, in space. We were on the freaking moon, we went to Mars. People flew across the planet every minute of every day. No more planes or trucks or cars, or tanks or missiles or rockets. No more rockets' red glare or bombs bursting in air to prove our country's still there. Granddad's family was from America, when there still was an America. No more countries or borders or wars. Everyone sealed their borders, against the refugees, not just the Titans. Let them eat our neighbors, not us. They have to get full sometime, right?

Bombs didn't work, guns didn't work, chemical weapons, biological weapons. We thought we'd be left with nothing but sticks and stones to break those bastards' bones. We tried using even more ancient historical tactics too, like the Roman shield method: make a turtle, so they can't hurt you. Titans made turtle soup. Here we are, digging spiked freaking pits, like guerillas in some damned Southeast Asian war. Can you believe humans once fought each other? Idiots.

We were supposed to be doing this to gather research subjects, to try to find a way to defeat the bastards, kill the lot of them. But the pricks in charge don't give a rat's ass anymore. They just want to stay safe, and fuck the rest of us. Build their Noah's Ark, and run it aground on a mountain top, save their own families and friends, rulers and nobles and wealthy businessmen. Keep just enough of us around to surround and protect them, to produce their food, and guard their precious Wall. Let the rest of the human race rot, in pieces, after the Titans have nibbled on us a bit.

They tried to take our steam shovels and backhoes last week. My own fucking brother, the goddamned high and mighty General himself, ordered us to come build their Wall.

I wasn't the only one who snapped. We might be in the Corps of Engineers, but we're still soldiers, damn it. We have a mission.

We learned what it was like, on Friday, to kill humans, not helpless, desperate refugees from some other country, but superior officers and dignitaries from our own. We fled into the forest afterwards, and we've been fighting like the Vietnamese guerillas or the Swamp Fox and his men ever since. No one even remembers Vietnam or America anymore, except for me. A gentleman and a scholar, left without a book to his name, except for this one, with a septic gut wound, half a bottle of whiskey, a shovel and not a single friend left alive, just dozens of damned covered spiked holes that no one will ever use.

I'm using the shovel to bury this journal, crating it to keep it safe. It's the only damned thing I have left to show that I was ever on this godforsaken planet. Not that there will be anyone to dig it up, of course. You'll all be cowering behind your precious Wall, until the Titans break through and eat you. It won't happen tonight, or tomorrow, but some day you'll regret betraying me and my men and the rest of humanity, the day you slide down one of those fucker's throats and into its belly. But by then, it will be far too late.

You deserve to be eaten. Burn in hell, you fucking rat bastards. I'll be sure to save a seat extra close to the fire for you, Thes. Although the Devil probably already has a special place at his side, for cowardly, power hungry, ruthless assholes like you, who murder their own brothers.

Pixis cleared his throat before speaking again. "That's all that's written. Dorotheos was found dead, the journal still clutched in his hands, by the forces led by his brother," Pixis said sadly. "I can't imagine how Thesmophoros must have felt, finding him like that and then reading this. But the fact that he kept this journal, instead of burning it, speaks volumes. Or at least, I tell myself that. I am related to the man by blood, after all. I like to think that maybe he was just like me, trying to change things from the inside, working within the system, instead of openly defying it, that his brother just didn't realize it. There's no way to know. If he ever wrote a journal, someone else has it, if it even still exists.

"I thought you'd like to know though, Hypatia, that Dorotheos didn't die in vain, accomplishing nothing. He died saving the lives of men that weren't even born yet, men he'd never know. They, in turn, are the very men who, God willing, will someday save us all. His sacrifice was still a tragedy, but at least it meant something. Frankly, when I'm gone, if I'm fortunate enough to be buried, to have a tombstone to mark my grave, that's all I'd like it to say. My name, and the words, 'He mattered.' Foolish of me, I know, since we all matter to someone. Or we should."

Pixis grew quiet, his eyes suspiciously bright. For the first time, Armin wondered what it must be like, to be that old and alone, to have the weight of so many lives on your shoulders, and no one to share the burden with, save for some few trusted friends.

But then Hypatia hugged Pixis. "Of course you matter, Uncle. You matter a lot more than most. But I don't want to hear you talking about dying. That's years away yet. Now, let's pretend this is just like any of your other visits. Only this time, you won't tell us you just ate and refuse to dine with us, so you don't eat any of the food you brought us. Let's have tea, and while we prepare dinner, you can tell us about what's been going on in the world above, and I'll tell you what's been happening here."

Armin was glad Pixis had Hypatia. And he was glad he still had Eren and Mikasa, and maybe even Levi, too, even though they each had someone else. He was glad if someone was alone, it was him. Each of them needed someone more than he did. He was fine on his own.