Chapter 2: Those Who Hide

(This fic is also posted on Archive of Our Own under the same username, PrettyxVenom99. I update more frequently there.)

Just outside the inner wall of Trost, in Wall Rose territory, lay several forested areas designated for the military's omni-directional maneuvering training. When Maya arrived at the west training forest the next day, Captain Levi was already there. He was casually going through one of the warmup routines, zipping around between the tree branches. It was routine eight, by the looks of it, a more complicated sequence in the ten routines that the Training Corps introduced for ODM practice.

Maya stopped some distance away from where the Captain was, letting the trunk of a tree partially hide her. Peering up, she started taking mental notes of his movements, trying to record in her head the shape of each stance, launch, and advance. That was how she used to learn, in the whorehouse: by watching her sisters, recording and analyzing their movements. Learning from them, whether conscious or not.

The Captain was moving at a leisurely pace, though leisurely by his standards was already the fastest pace that a regular cadet could do without breaking their necks. His speed pushed her eyeballs and her brain to their limits, but she tried to keep up as best as she could. He seemed to relish doing sweeping circles and tight spirals, substituting a lot of the simple turns with these flashy and complicated moves. But it didn't mean he couldn't be deadly efficient too. Maya shivered when he executed a perfect forward prone flight, his body lying flat as a knife and shooting fast as a bullet. She wouldn't ever want to be at the receiving end of that advance.

What did she know about Captain Levi, though? Almost nothing, besides his reputation as humanity's strongest soldier and her glimpses at the ways he moved when fighting titans. He didn't seem close to anyone in the Corps, except perhaps Commander Erwin, who looked like the only person he actually respected. He had his squad members' admiration and even adoration, but he didn't seem very friendly with them either. He didn't always train with them. He would sit with them for meetings and sometimes meals, but she never saw him share a laugh or even a smile with them. Or any other person in the Corps, for that matter. Not even Erwin.

Cold, unsmiling, impassive, unflappable, unapproachable. Fearless, built like a rock, flowing like water, quiet and quick like lightning without thunder. He had a certain no-nonsense grace in his movements, and was beautifully lethal when he soared through the air.

That was all she knew, but that was all everyone else knew as well. It wasn't much.

The Captain was nearing the end of the routine, so Maya stepped out from behind the tree trunk and walked over to where he was. The Captain landed before her.

"You're late," he said in a voice that cracked like a whip.

"I wasn't, sir," she replied calmly. "You were doing your warmup routine, so I thought I'd wait."

He fixed her with a glare. She laid her bag down on the ground, against a tree, not taking her eyes off his. She was only slightly shorter than him, so their gazes met each other almost exactly straight.

"Show me your warmup routine one. Your best version," he snapped.

"Yes, sir," she said. She had no idea how doing the easiest warmup routine could help her improve, but she didn't question him. This training was the least important thing in her life right now, compared to her problem with her old master. She really just wanted to get this over with.

When she was done, he immediately sent her back up again to do the second routine, telling her to go faster. Then he asked for the third routine, and the fourth, and so on, until she completed all ten routines. By the end of it she was feeling rather fed up. She had done all these routines ten thousand times since entering the Training Corps.

The Captain remained expressionless and unimpressed throughout; she idly considered slapping him just to see how he'd react. Instead she asked him, in a voice less eager than it probably should be, if there was anything she could improve.

"Was that already your best performance?" the Captain asked.

"Yes, sir," she answered automatically. It wasn't really her best, but it was a practiced lie. Being purposefully lackluster was a defense mechanism when you were somebody on the run.

He seemed to consider her briefly, then said, "Let's do a chase."

That drew her attention. A chase was meant to test a soldier's speed and agility against another's. A chase with Captain Levi? Less than an hour ago she was saying she didn't want to be at the receiving end of his advances.

"Okay," she said, though this time she felt a bit of tension under her skin. She wasn't usually forced to show all the tricks she had up her sleeves, and certainly not by this unnerving man.

"You go first," the Captain said.

She launched away. Not that she thought her head start would mean anything, of course. She flew as fast as she could, and to increase her speed even more she did as much forward prone flight as she dared, choosing the straightest possible route between the trees and only shifting to upright flight when she needed to pivot to change direction.

He gave her a full minute of head start, and yet he caught up to her after only thirty seconds. She tilted then pivoted, trying to move away from him. He copied her pivot with a flick of his ankle. She squeezed on her gas and managed to get away, just barely.

"Gas control!" he yelled above the wind. "You've already got less gas than me after your routines!"

She cursed. He was right. At this rate even if he only chased her at his leisurely pace, he'd still get her if she ran out before he did.

They went on like that for a while, dashing and dodging among the trees. The Captain allowed himself a pace slightly faster than earlier, but she knew it wasn't his best yet. She was, however, dangerously close to her limit in terms of speed. This was already faster than what she usually let herself do.

At one point she had to whip up a vertical soar, shooting up toward the treetops, to stop him from crashing into her. But still he caught up with her in the half second she took to shift back into forward prone flight and squeeze on her gas. He shifted from upright to prone like it was nothing. She barely got away.

And then he suddenly appeared before her, swinging from around a tree she was zipping past. She let her reflex take over and shot her right anchor sideways, panning her gas to propel her to that direction. She tucked her legs under her as she careened mid-air and managed to land against a tree solidly on her two feet. Without missing a beat, she launched herself back into the air in the opposite direction, back toward where they came from.

He followed, and this time he didn't hold back.

She put up what she hoped was a respectable fight. She stayed in forward prone, arms glued at her sides, making herself as aerodynamic as possible. She stretched her spatial awareness until she was having tunnel vision; her eyes automatically narrowing down the straightest path, the path of least resistance, whatever would allow her to stay prone as long as possible, relying only on tilts and gas pans to adjust her direction, completely avoiding the necessity to pause for a pivot. Her fingers were pressed firmly into her gas triggers. She was going full throttle at a reckless pace, and for the first time that day all threats of her old master evaporated from her mind.

But still, he caught up to her. It was over in a flash. One moment her sightline was clear, and the next he was before her, then upon her, then his arms wrapped tightly around her. The impact crashed them out of their flight, but somehow he managed to hold on to her and adjusted their tumble into a gentle downward dive.

They landed smoothly. He immediately pulled away and faced her.

"You lied," he spat. "Everything you did. All the mistakes you made in your routines, you faked them all."

Her breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean?" she replied as calmly as she could.

"At first I thought you just sucked. It took me until your seventh routine to realize your mistakes were too regular, too predictable. Like you planned everything. Like you purposefully changed all your habits and turned them wrong."

"I did fine," she said, trying to stay calm. "I completed all the routines quickly, didn't I? Someone who makes a lot of mistakes would never be able to do the routines as fast as you told me to."

"You manipulated your moves and stances so thoroughly that you actually became fluent in them. Fluent in the wrong moves. Bad moves can look like okay skills if you do them fluently. You know how I figured you out, though?"

She knew the answer, but she gave him none.

He scowled. "Let me ask again. You can fake your moves all you want to look incompetent, but what happens when you're suddenly put under pressure or danger?"

She remained silent.

"A fight or flight response," he spat. "Your primal instinct takes over, and no amount of dumbing down can stop you from saving yourself if you actually have the skills to."

That was the whole point of his chase. Of course. She should've said no. Should've demurred, should've said she wanted more practice before she could take him on, whatever. But it was too late now.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded.

"None of your business," she said quietly.

"It is. I'm your instructor now."

"I didn't ask for that."

He arched his eyebrow, his face darkening. "I didn't ask for it either, and yet here we are. So, why the fuck did you do that?"

"I said, it's none of your business." She had raised her voice, though she didn't realize that. There was a ringing in her ears.

"Have you any idea what kind of danger you put yourself in by pulling this shit?" the Captain yelled. "Fuck cares how fluent you are — the tiniest differences in moves and stances can make or break your maneuvering. Do you get that?"

"What do you care anyway?"

"Erwin told me to train you."

"Oh, so this is all so that you can look good in front of your Commander, huh?"

"What the fuck? This can get you killed."

"And so what? Like I'm not already getting killed, all the time!"

His eyes widened. Her last line was unmistakably a shout, and this gave him pause. Suddenly he realized her body had shifted into a combat stance. Knees bent, feet slightly angled, a little more than hip-width apart. Arms hovering between shielding her body and bracing for a fist fight. Eyes wild but hyper-focused.

He found himself shifting his stance too, subconsciously. Then he raised his hands in an appeasing gesture.

"Fine," he said. "Suit yourself, you don't have to explain. I'm just telling you this is stupid. I don't know what kinda shit you're in, but not being the best you can be will definitely get you killed in this profession."

"You have no idea what else can get me killed," she whispered.

He stared at her. He briefly argued with himself about whether this was his problem or not, and eventually decided no. She would realize the truth herself. And if she didn't, there'd be plenty of time for him to pound that into her.

"Stay here and practice your routines again, correctly this time. I won't waste my time on you until you get them right. I trust you actually know what's right."

She didn't move. She didn't say a word.

"We'll meet again tomorrow. Same place, same time. I expect you to have your shit together by then."

He spun around and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the forest, quietly trembling.

He didn't know they wouldn't get to see each other the next day.

When it was midnight and Maya was still nowhere to be seen, Eloise knew something was wrong. She'd been staring at the clock on Maya's bedside table for the past hour, her foot tapping on the floor nervously. Her hands were wrapped around her neck. Her pulse drummed against her palms.

She should never have gotten herself involved in this kind of situation: dangerous situations with questionable people. Dealing with Rats? Really, what was she thinking? Now she found herself wondering if it was still possible to avoid dealing with this further, to just walk away and pretend nothing had happened, and to do so without risking her friendship with Maya — and Maya herself.

She met Maya for the first time in the Training Corps, on the day that prospective trainees went through a physical evaluation before officially being admitted as trainees. The girls were ushered into the examination room ten at a time. Once inside, they were made to stand in two lines, facing each other. Eloise stood in the line opposite Maya, a little to her right. The military nurse that was in charge had a huge scar on her cheek and a mouth that looked scrawled in careless anger.

Eloise fell into a cold panic when the nurse ordered them to take off their clothes. She froze, and the nurse had to shout at her before she managed to make her trembling hands undo the buttons of her shirt.

She had bruises all over her body, nasty dark purple bruises. They were witnesses to the violence of control, placed upon her by a man who was too used to having the world revolve around him, and who would accept absolutely no form of rebellion from his own daughter. She wrapped her arms around herself to hide as much of her skin as she could, and stole a quick glance at the other girls to see if anyone felt as uncomfortable baring her body as herself.

That was when she caught Maya's eyes. The girl was standing in the exact same pose, with bruises on her skin as well. She had a look of surprise and understanding in her eyes, the way your eyes would look when they recognize your own reflection in the mirror.

They both passed the examination, to their surprise. Before they left the room, the nurse murmured something, and somehow they knew her words were meant for them: "We'll make strong soldiers out of you."

That night, when they were assigned to their dorm, Maya automatically went to the bed against the wall, and Eloise wordlessly chose the bed next to hers. Since then, they had gone through countless nights listening patiently to each other's silent cries, or shaking each other out of nightmares. They still did all those even now, sometimes.

It was just that back then Eloise hadn't known that Maya was a Rat and a former whore. Eloise hadn't found out until three weeks ago, when Maya came and asked for her help. Eloise smiled at Maya and told her of course she would help. Maya said she needed to rescue someone from the refugee camp. Eloise frowned at that, and Maya explained the person was a young boy; he had someone else in Trost willing to take him in, he just needed a little help reaching this person.

Eloise pressed Maya for an explanation. If she were to risk her position to help rescue someone, she should at least know who exactly this person was.

Maya went cool and sharp as a knife under the moonlight. She calmly repeated back to Eloise all the tidbits of Eloise's past that Eloise had slowly shared with her throughout their years together: that Eloise was the runaway daughter of a Sina lord, her real name, her father's name, the incident that made her run away in the first place.

Maya said all of that in a matter-of-fact way, like an advocate-at-law presenting all the evidence to be used as defense or leverage. She did not sound at all menacing or threatening. But her words, nonetheless, had the implication of shackles that bound Eloise to her discretion.

Then Maya smiled and proceeded to share her own secrets. Shackles for shackles.

Eloise still wasn't sure how she felt about her friend now. A whore and an illegal crosser, communing with a bunch of other illegal crossers and criminals. Like everyone else, Eloise had grown up hearing advice to look out for Rats, to watch their sneaking way in mansions and markets alike, stealing things from under your nose and killing you if that was more profitable than whatever riches you had. But apparently the only Rat she knew personally had also saved her life more than once, and the only thing this Rat ever stole was a little boy she wanted to protect.

Eloise rubbed her eyes in frustration. She really should never have gotten involved in any of this.

But back to the problem at hand. Maya couldn't have been so reckless as to stay out this late, not when everyone at The Crooked Cook had warned her not to do so. And she wasn't still out training with Captain Levi either; Eloise had seen the Captain conversing with Hange earlier that afternoon.

Eloise couldn't turn to Hange or any one of the officers for help. Maya had made clear she couldn't risk involving anyone else in the Survey Corps — anyone outside of the Rat community, actually. There was no telling who would be sympathetic to the plight of a barely legal crosser — most of the time, nobody would care. She would just be drawing dangerous, unwanted attention.

She could wait until morning. Maybe Maya would suddenly turn up at the rise of dawn. But if she waited that long, would it be too late? How big was the risk?

Big enough, she realized. Again, her own father was also a Sina lord. She knew the kind of resources at the disposal of such powerful men, and the kind of impunity with which those men could use those resources. And as the silver-haired Rat — Geri — had said, Maya was already lucky to have survived this long without any incident.

Eloise needed to alert someone as soon as possible. And she eventually accepted that there was nowhere else to go but back to the Rats at The Crooked Cook, no matter her discomforts in dealing with Rats.

Helga hastily wrapped her dressing gown around herself as she padded down the hallway of her inn. Geri had pounded at her bedroom door just five minutes before, waking her from her slumber with barely comprehensible shouts about Maya and an emergency. It was past one in the morning. Not terribly late, by a Rat's standards, but Helga had gone to bed early so she could rise extra early and take over Geri's watch duty. It seemed like everyone was to be on watch this entire night, now.

She swung into the basement common room and found Geri, Ethan, and a pale freckled girl sitting at a table under the dim torch light. She remembered the girl's name: Eloise Klein, whose real name was Lady Lara Ingram, daughter of Lord Eric Ingram of East Yarckel in Wall Sina. Ran away from home because of a certain disagreement with her lord father — a disagreement concerning marriage, if Helga had read well between the lines.

Helga racked her brain for any other compromising materials that she had on the girl, but she knew that was already everything she had. Like any other hub-taker worth her station, she had memorized by heart all the information she could possibly need to defend any Rat in her network.

"Maya's gone?" Helga said without further ado.

"She went to the west forest for practice this morning and hasn't returned since," Eloise said. "I waited till midnight."

The girl's face looked absolutely bloodless. Helga knew all the nobles were ghost-pale, but in the case of this particular noble daughter, the paleness also came from sheer fright. The young woman sat in the chair uncomfortably, shifting around every few seconds; eyes wide and wandering; teeth chewing the inside of her lip. Helga had seen her fair share of nobles. They were usually the cocky kind — but not this one, it seemed.

Helga glanced at Geri, who immediately caught her unspoken question. He shook his head. "Have no seen any suspicious bit today," he said.

"Me neither," Ethan said.

The two had been staking out the Survey Corps headquarters since the arrival of Kenny's letter, hoping to catch anyone who was pursuing Maya. Helga herself had sent messages of caution through her network, asking any Rat to report to her any suspicious sign of a Rat hunter. She couldn't be very specific in her messaging, of course. No one knew Maya's true identity other than the four people in The Crooked Cook, plus Eloise. Sometimes it was as important to hide your identity from fellow Rats as it was to hide it from the sunfolk. The fewer people who knew, the better.

"What do you think?" Helga said.

Geri narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, a telltale sign that he was working his thug brain to maximum effect. "It's no good looking, but I been sayin' that before. They probably caught her already."

"Is there any way to be sure of that?" Helga asked. She drew herself up, sitting straighter in her chair, but at the same time she forced her muscles to not tense up too badly. There was a difference between being concerned and being scared.

"You wanna ask around?" Geri said.

"Do we have time for that?"

Geri paused and licked his lips again. "What time you last saw her, girl?" he said to Eloise.

"Breakfast. Early morning. Around half past six?" Eloise answered.

"Then gone to west forest for training?" Geri pressed on. "Outside the district wall?"

"Yes."

"Midget Captain went with her?"

"Yes."

"Returned together?"

"No." Eloise shook her head. "I saw Captain Levi again around lunch. She wasn't with him. I haven't seen her again since breakfast."

"How long is training usually?"

"I'm not sure about private training, it was their first time," Eloise explained. "But usually it's around two, four hours? At any rate she was supposed to be back by lunch. We had inventory chores after lunch."

Geri took a deep breath, looked at Helga, and shook his head. "Probably got her on the way back. Probably outside the wall. Less people."

"The Captain might know something," Ethan suggested.

"It seems like the Captain left her to return on her own. Wouldn't you say, child?" Helga said to Eloise.

"Maybe." Eloise nodded slowly. "It's entirely possible she had stayed longer in the forest to practice on her own, especially since… well… the Captain probably has a high standard of performance."

The room fell silent. Helga's eyes went back and forth between the people sitting at the table. Geri sighed and crossed his arms, eyebrows knitted together. Ethan ruffled his hair and stared at the ceiling. Eloise looked down, wringing her hands on her lap.

"So this means Maya has been missing for around twelve hours, if she was supposed to return around lunch," Helga said.

"Yup," Geri said. "Not good. Would've reached Sina by now, going by wagon."

"It's been too long. We gotta do something," Ethan said. "We should go after her."

Geri threw him a look. "You and I and what army?"

"She can come. Right? You're a soldier," Ethan said, looking at Eloise.

The girl's eyes widened. "Come where and do what, exactly?" she spluttered. "We should just go and report this to the Military Police."

"You and your dear fucking police—" Geri said, but Helga smoothly cut him off.

"We can't go to the police, Eloise, you know that," she said. "The Military Police aren't exactly friends with any Rats."

The girl fell silent. "What then?" she whispered.

"Would you help us if we were to go to Ehrmich and get her?"

"What do you mean, 'get her'?"

Helga's brow twitched. "Well, we go to the lord's mansion and see if she's there. And bring her back if she's there." She thought it was an obvious course of action, but maybe not so much for this sheltered lady.

The girl's eyes widened again. She clearly wasn't comfortable with the idea of toeing the line of law. Sunfolk's law, for that matter.

"Aren't you friends with her, child?" Helga said quietly.

Eloise's nod was barely perceptible; her words barely audible. "Yes. We're friends."

"Well, then… wouldn't you want her to come home safe?" Helga said gently, with both carefulness and hope — prodding a little too much, she knew, but what else was she to do? They needed as much help as they could get.

Eloise stared at her — blankly at first, then in fear. But Helga thought her words had successfully got the girl thinking.

"Geri will lead the mission," Helga added for good measure. "You'll just help with whatever needs helping." Then she fell quiet, giving the girl a little more time to chew on her thoughts.

"I don't know how I can help, but I'll try," Eloise whispered at last.

"Good girl," Helga said, reaching out to grasp Eloise's arm and squeeze gently. She then turned to Geri. "Would this suffice?"

Geri gave a shaky laugh. "Madame, ya flatter me. Ya think I can pull off a mission with just musician guy and soldier girl here? Used to be I have a band of real thugs. Best of East End, risin' stars of West Landin'. Even then we no stormin' some Sina lord's mansion to steal their whore. Them lords love their whores. Now ya want old me leadin' the charge with some barely minted milklads? No."

Ethan winced. "I'm not useless, you know."

"Ya not, but ya no expert either," Geri retorted.

"Alright, who then?" Ethan asked.

"Who's in the nest?"

Helga knew that question was for her, but she couldn't talk about the Rats currently in the nest when there was one of the sunfolk sitting at the table where she could hear. "Would you excuse us a moment, girl?" She turned to Eloise. "You can wait in the upper common room. Make yourself some tea. There's also cookies in the cabinet. Help yourself."

For a second Eloise looked like she was going to protest, but Helga drew herself up and fixed the girl with a kind but firm stare. Eloise nodded and got up.

After the girl had closed the door behind her, Helga proceeded to run down the list of Trost's known Rats, the list that she kept safely in her head. Geri knew most of those who could be useful in their current predicament, him being a former hitman with considerable reputation. Ethan knew a good deal about the population as well, thanks to his gregarious nature and his years helping Helga with The Crooked Cook alongside Geri.

But the thing was, there just weren't that many Rats left in Trost, or at least not the type they needed. Those who preyed on others' possessions or depended on the scraps that remained on citizens' tables had abandoned Trost as soon as it became clear the refugees were already sucking the city dry. They moved on to greener pastures, to Rose's more well-off districts in the west and the east, where there were more resources to salvage or steal from. Those who stayed were those who never relied on violence, crime, or scavenging to survive: those who had businesses or legitimate jobs, which also meant those who didn't know how to fight and sneak around in the dark.

"What about Alabar?" Ethan said, offering yet another person he used to know. He and Geri had been doing so for the past half hour, holding up dozens of names only to be told those people were no longer around.

"Dead, remember?" Helga said. "Someone found out he was illegal and framed him for the murder of some merchant. Off to the chopping block he went, not even a trial."

"Must be why I missed it," Ethan mumbled.

"You said Peck gone too?" Geri said.

"Two weeks ago. Krolva District. He brought Delli with him."

Geri clicked his tongue. "Shame. Good pair. Good with knives too."

"There's this man that I once met, pretty sure he was a Rat. Lived in an apartment above a butcher's stall off some narrow alley…"

"The one near the canal?" Helga said. "Squinty eyes, near-black skin, missing a tooth?"

"Yeah."

"Dead too."

"Damn it," Ethan hissed. "Is there anyone else we missed?"

Helga closed her eyes and ran down the list of Rats in her head again. Sometimes she wished she had those names written down so she could have something to actually look at and tick off, but that wasn't the way. Rats didn't write. Rats didn't trust writings, because writings could rat them out. Instead, every night before bed Helga would recite the names to herself in alphabetical order, counting them off and making sure she remembered everyone and their status, adding and removing names from the list as reports reached her.

"No," Helga eventually said. "That's everyone. Everyone I know and everyone I think can help, anyway. If there's any other Rat in the city I don't know about… well, let's hope they'll knock on our door and introduce themselves within the next two hours."

The silence that followed was heavy with desperation. Ethan had begun literally tearing his blond hair out. The young man always did have a lot of respect for Maya, as young shadowfolk often did when it came to one of the nine Flowers from Rose of the Night. And Helga imagined Timi too would be crushed when he woke up in the morning to the news that Maya had disappeared — the little boy was fond of his savior. Even Geri was —

"Geri?" Helga called out suddenly. The aging man was drumming his fingers on the table and tapping his foot on the floor. He wasn't usually this rattly. "What's wrong?"

Geri took a long, deep breath. "Ya said somethin' 'bout Rats in the city. Rats ya no know about."

"What? You know anyone?" Ethan said.

"Well…" Geri's eyes flicked between them apprehensively. "He no come out yet. Understandably so. Though am surprised Maya don't know him."

"Well, if you think Maya knows him—"

"She don't."

"How you know?" Ethan said.

"Would've said somethin' for sure. She don't know."

"Are you gonna tell us or not?"

"It's no my secret to tell," Geri said, a little heated. He looked at Helga, and Helga sighed. She held everyone's secrets and identities, but only everyone who came to her and made themselves known to her. Rats didn't rat out others who hadn't come out.

Not unless something else was at stake, anyway.

"Yer call, Helga. It's yer hub, so yer call," Geri said.

Helga massaged her temples with her long fingers. Geri could choose to tell her the identity of this Rat. It was certainly less of a betrayal to give information to the hub-keeper of the city you reside in. Hub-keepers — or at least those who were worth their station, anyway — were the secret glue that connected the Rat community. They held the invisible threads linking each member, even as everyone hid in their own little nooks and crannies. You made yourself known to the hub-keeper so the hub-keeper could call on you when the community needed help. And in turn, they would call on the community when you needed help. They were the eyes that watched over everyone, connecting everyone.

If Geri chose to divulge the identity of this undeclared Rat, though, Helga would share with him the responsibility of protecting this Rat. Any threat that befell the Rat because of the added number of people who knew their identity, that would be hers and Geri's to take care of. And Ethan's, since he was also in the room.

Your hub, your call.

"Give it to me," Helga whispered.

"This is an extremely dangerous piece of information," Geri said. The fact that he bothered switching to correct sunfolk speech was a sign of how serious he was.

Helga nodded solemnly. She had a reason. Rose — Maya — was hers to protect too. "Give it to me," she said again.

"It's Captain Levi of the Survey Corps."