The Atlantic Titan

by Everything Entertainment

In this dramatization of the sinking of the RMS Titanic, a fictional cast of characters, including steward Eren Jaeger, First-Class passenger Levi Ackerman, and others board the infamous liner on her maiden voyage. As disaster draws near, difficult choices are made as our main leads witness life and loss from one of history's greatest tragedies. (1912!AU)

4. Beyond the Atlantic

Chapter 4:

Beyond the Atlantic

Levi's Stateroom (A-Deck)

April 12th, 1912; 4:45 a.m.

A clock ticked in the dim cabin of Levi Ackerman as he stared at the ceiling with an unflinching gaze. About an hour earlier, he had woken up to a strange noise in his stateroom; at first, he thought it was steam escaping from the ship's boilers as it was being vented through the funnels. But his realization came as he was unable to move and the whistling noise grew louder until he could recognize the sounds of rifles and cannons echoing in the back of his mind. Sleep paralysis wasn't uncommon with the Lance Corporal, but there are times when the intensity of the nightmares would get to him to where he would wake up in a cold sweat. Although he could toss and turn in his bed again, he chose not to move to ensure that he would have full control of his body. As his body was able to slow to its normal pace, Levi turned towards the window that unveiled a view of the A-Deck Promenade.

Deciding that he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, he arose from his bed, slipped into his night slippers, and tied a bedrobe around his body. He steps out into the hallway, closing his stateroom door behind him, and heads towards the exit to the promenade deck. The cold air of the early April morning hits the man's pale, exhausted complexion with a satisfying relief. He starts to walk further aft with the sound of the rippling Atlantic echoing in the breeze.

He eventually settles on a deck bench at the end of the aft portion of the promenade. The stern's mast towered over the aft section of the deck like a colorless maypole supported by guywires and other riggings. Levi stared at the early morning sky with a deep-seated contemplation as he preferred to look at the sky above his head rather than the sea in front of him as he found a sort of supernatural solace in the stars. At the very least, there was natural light in the dusk atmosphere above while the ocean's surface only serves as a reflection of that light. Below the surface is just an abyss that only thrives in the darkness and nothing more.

The man breathed slowly but silently while he contemplated to himself as he leaned back a little to ease his body into a comfortable position. This moment reminded Levi of a time that he had shared with Isabel and Furlan, his two closest friends that he had known since he was a teenager. It was foolish for him to wish for a time where he could have that same closeness that he had with those two. Sure, Erwin and Hange were an exception, but he knew how fleeting it would be when those personal ties can be severed in an instant.

Levi sighed once his extreme tiredness returned to him; his eyes eventually grew heavier as he drifted off. Although the chill of the open air was a little unbearable, his drowsy body chose to ignore this fact once it was well-adjusted to the rough surface of the bench. Levi's head slumps in a lazy manner as the man continues to rest for the lasting duration of the early morning hours.

---

Erwin's Stateroom (B-Deck)

7:30 a.m.

The blond-haired colonel, who has arisen from his unperturbed slumber, opens the enclosed window to his cabin to allow fresh air to circulate the room. He then opens his wardrobe to find a suitable morning attire for the day ahead. While he changed out of his pajamas, a knock came at his cabin door.

"Who is it?" Erwin replied to the individual outside his door.

"It's your bedroom steward, sir. May I come in?" The steward promptly inquired.

"Just a moment…" Erwin said as he changed into his formal pants and dress shirt. He buttons his shirt as he makes his way to the door and opens it. "Ah, Steward Jaeger. I've been expecting you."

"Good morning, sir," The First-Class steward greeted the passenger with a polite tone. "How may I be of service?"

Erwin stepped aside and pulled the door back to allow the steward passage into his cabin. "Well, now that you are here, I need your help with getting dressed for today."

"Yes, sir," Eren nodded as he stepped into the colonel's stateroom.

The steward glanced around the cozy and luxurious accommodation: The room had a decor with a mix of variating period styles, such as Louis XVI, Adam, and some other motifs that Eren couldn't make out; the wallpaper had a velvety texture to it, which made it seem more regal than it is made out to be; the furniture and upholstery especially made the room look like a cushy hotel room in London.

He looks at a padded chair placed next to the boudoir, and was nearly bewildered when he sees the oil painting that sat in it: It was the painting of a naked woman standing in a fountain-bath with a white cloth only covering her lower extremities. Eren blushed as he felt prudish just by staring at the painted woman and her exposed breasts.

Erwin looks at the young boy and the framed canvas painting, "I see you have noticed my latest addition to my art collection, 'La Circassienne au Bain' or 'The Circassian at the Bath'"

"I'm sorry?" asked a flabbergasted Eren.

"It's a Neo-Classical piece created by the late Blondel," The colonel elaborated.

"Blondel?" Eren asked curiously.

"He was a French painter best-known for painting frescoes in Versailles, the Louvre and so-forth," Erwin said as he slips into his dress shoes; Eren kneels down to aid the man in tying the laces. "I bought it at an art auction a month ago while I was touring Paris."

"Forgive me, sir, but I don't know much about art," Eren said apologetically as he properly knots the laces.

"Understandable," nodded Erwin as he adjusted his tie. "From your perspective, it's easy to see the perverted fantasy that's displayed on that canvas as the woman created within it has nothing to hide. But from mine, there is quite a bit of depth to the woman herself."

Eren then moves on to buttoning and tightening the vest of the suit, "I can't imagine what that must be."

"Beyond superficial beauty, there is knowledge to be learned from it," Erwin implies in a cryptic tone as he pulls his jacket over his shoulder and wraps it around his vest. Eren loops the buttons of the jacket, clicks the cufflinks onto the hem of the sleeves as the Colonel was now fully dressed in his morning outfit. "That will be all, Jaeger."

Eren nods politely as he leaves the stateroom and the Colonel to examine his attire in the mirror. The steward closes the door to the cabin as he enters the narrow hallway of the First-Class section of B-Deck. He proceeds to his next designated room a few doors down when he recognizes Levi pacing through the corridor in the opposite direction.

"Good morning, sir." greeted Eren as the First-Class passenger turned to him.

"Jaeger, heading off to clean my stateroom again?" Levi inquired.

"Right away, sir," Eren replied obediently.

"Maybe this time around I won't have to drill my exact orders into your head," The Lance Corporal said with a biting conviction.

"Sir? The purser has informed me that you have a letter waiting for you." informed Eren.

"A letter? From who?" asked the male passenger.

"I'm not sure, but I can deliver it to you at your request." The steward insisted.

Levi sighs, "Sure, why not? Just leave it in my cabin while you're in there cleaning."

"Yes, sir." Eren replies respectively as he speedwalks to the Purser's Office. As Levi turned away, Eren thought to himself, "Okay, now I just need to head to the steward's dormitory, grab my letter, and leave it in the Corporal's stateroom. Hopefully, this will be a cakewalk, or else I could risk losing my job."

Meanwhile, as Levi knocked on the door of Colonel Erwin's cabin, the latter opened up as he was fully donned in his morning suit. "Good morning, Levi. I figured you would already be waiting at the Reception before breakfast."

"Slept in this morning," Levi explained as he rubbed his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "I had a case of insomnia last night. Still, I was out like a dead horse."

Erwin nodded as he closed his stateroom door behind him, "No rest for the weary, I presume. Perhaps some coffee from the Parisien Café will keep your mind from drifting off."

"Lovely," Levi replied tiredly while he and Erwin walked further aft.

As the two men walked into the B-Deck foyer of the Aft Grand Staircase while they waited to be seated outside the Á la Carte and the Parisien Café. They are soon approached by Petra and Lt. Oruo, who came up from C-Deck.

"Ah, good morning, Colonel; and a pleasant morning to you as well, Corporal," greeted Oruo as he displayed a slightly pompous attitude, which received a subtle disdain from Levi.

"Yes, good morning, sirs," Petra greeted the men with a more polite gesture. She then handed a letter to Levi. "Lance Corporal, I checked in with the Purser, and he said he had received a reply from Major Moblit through the Marconi service."

"Did he also hand you another letter as well?" Levi inquired.

"No, it's the only letter that you received, sir. Why?" The secretary asked.

"A steward told me that there was another letter from an anonymous sender that he went to deliver to my stateroom," Levi explained.

"I guess he must have already taken it before I did," Petra surmised.

Levi simply gave an inscrutable look that he normally displayed, but there was a shroud of puzzlement behind his eyes. He hands the letter to Erwin as the older man opens the envelope and silently reads the telegram. Just then, Lieutenants Eld Gin and Gunther Schultz, entered the foyer.

"Good morning, ladies and gents!" Gunther said jovially as he greeted the rest of his traveling party. "Well, lady and gents to be exact."

"I see that Hange is late for breakfast?" inquired Eld.

"Well, she is still a woman of stature. She's probably taking her time getting ready," assumed Petra.

"Of course, she would be. After all, despite being the oddball of the bunch, she still has to maintain her appearance in the midst of high society, including the most regal folk that come and go aboard this ship-" Oruo took a slight step and stumbled, which made him accidently bite his own tongue, much to the surprise of the other passengers that gathered in the foyer.

"Oh, my word! Is he all right?" asked a female passenger, as she drew concern for the Lieutenant's minor injury.

"Shall I fetch the surgeon?" A male passenger inquired.

"He's fine, he's just a little clumsy," assured Petra as she gave Oruo a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his mouth. She then whispers to Oruo, "Oruo, please don't call Ms. Zoe an oddball. If she heard you say that, she would've strangled you."

Levi turned to Eld and Gunther as he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry you two had to skip dinner last night. But, hopefully, your little endeavors have benefited you well."

Eld and Gunther stare at each other for a moment before Eld speaks up, "As a matter of fact, they have, sir."

"Good," Levi nodded intently. "We have a lot to discuss."

---

Hange's Stateroom (B-Deck)

In the stateroom of Hange Zoe, the brown-haired woman sat at her desk as she looked over her sketched deck plans of the Titanic. She stayed up until about 2:00 in the morning filling in the empty spaces of D-Deck and a few passenger areas on E and F-Deck. She analyzed the unfilled rooms and compartments that she has yet to unravel. The stewardess, Mikasa, was quietly tidying the stateroom while her charge contemplated over the plans.

The woman's obsession for Titanic reminded Mikasa of Armin in terms of their similar passions; although the contrast in their personalities are quite apparent. As the dark-haired girl dusts the nightstand next to Hange's bed, she notices a small picture frame with a picture of two kittens, one with blonde fur and the other with brown fur.

"She is a very strange lady, isn't she?" Mikasa pondered in her mind.

"You know, it gets a little lonesome without my Sawney and Bean around," Hange sighed as she stared at the picture of the two cats with a sentimental gleam. "I bet they feel the same way without me. They're probably at home, scratching all over my curtains and tablecloths because they're bored and have no one to play with."

Mikasa nodded with acknowledgement as she continued to clean the room as Hange spoke, "You have people who are close to you, right, Mikasa?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do." Mikasa replied solemnly.

"I don't mean to pry, I'm just wondering," Hange said awkwardly as she took a glance at her pocket watch; it was ten til 8:00. "Anyways, I should go and get some breakfast. Afterwards, Mr. Andrews is going to give me a tour of Titanic. I figured he wouldn't when I asked him at dinner last night, but he actually agreed, and today he's finally going to show me around. Hopefully, I'll finally be able to see her reciprocating engines at their peak!"

"That sounds very interesting, Miss Zoe." The stewardess replied with a neutral expression.

"Well, don't let me stop you from cleaning, my effervescent housekeeper. Keep up the good work!" Hange said optimistically as she exits her cabin.

Once Mikasa was through with tidying the cabin, she walks out of the room and closes the door behind her. She immediately spots Armin walking down the corridor with his satchel, who then locks his eyes with hers, "Good morning, Mikasa!"

"Good morning, Armin," Mikasa greeted her friend. "I see you have your sketchbook."

Armin nodded eagerly as he pulled out his sketchbook and showed his drawings, "Yeah! If Mr. Andrews isn't busy, I can show him some of my drawings for a new ship I'm drafting."

"Those are some very interesting schematics." The stewardess complimented the blond boy.

"I haven't thought of a name for it yet," explained Armin. "I was thinking maybe the 'Titan', but I thought that would be too similar to Titanic. But it is inspired by this ship anyway, so…"

"Armin, by any chance, have you seen Eren this morning?" inquired Mikasa, as she gave a slight look of worry.

"Well, I did see him go down to the steward bunks a while ago." affirmed Armin.

"It looks like he is going through with his plan, after all," Mikasa surmised.

"Let's just hope that it doesn't reach a snag. If it does, he's gonna get into a lot of trouble," The blond boy said worriedly.

"Then we'll stick by him, no matter what may happen." The dark-haired girl said assuringly.

Armin nodded in agreement, however, he felt hesitant since getting caught up in Eren's half-baked idea just to get advice from a military officer was too bold. Still, he feels the obligation to help his friend in any way that he can, albeit the stakes are a bit too high in this case. "For now, let's just move on with our day."

"Yes, if you'll excuse me, I need to tend to the other passengers," Mikasa replied as she parted from the blond steward; Armin waved goodbye to his friend as Mikasa headed down the corridor.

---

Boiler Room No. 6

9:30 a.m.

The brightness of the fiery light that emanated from the boilers made Jean's head feel as if it was about split in two. He was still suffering from the hangover that he received from drinking the copious amounts of alcohol from the Third-Class party last night. At the first crack of dawn, he felt nauseated to the point of dry-heaving; with Marco's help, he was able to keep himself from falling ill, though he still had a hard time keeping up with his work due to the symptoms of his hangover. He skipped breakfast and drank enough water to help him pull through his upcoming shift.

"Damn this heat," Jean muttered to himself while he weakly held the shovel in his hands and haphazardly tossed the lumps of coal into the firebox. "Why does it feel like Hades in here?"

"You hanging in there, Jean?" Marco asked his sick friend as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Yep, I'm alright," Jean said with a shortness of breath.

"You look like you're about to pass out." Marco said concernedly.

"I'm cool… as long as Barrett doesn't notice…" The brown-haired young man said as he stopped shoveling for a moment as he felt a numbness in his stomach.

"COME ON, LADS! PUT YOUR BACKS INTO IT!" Frederick Barrett shouted to the other stokers to prompt them into maintaining the momentum of keeping the ship at full speed. He then notices Marco and a few other stokers hovering over Jean, who was bending over a metal bucket. "Oy! What's happening over here?"

Vomit came pouring out of Jean's mouth as Marco laid a hand on his back. Barrett turned to one of the stokers, "What's wrong with him?"

"Looks like he's seasick, sir." The stoker replied.

"Move aside, all of you!" ordered Barrett as he pushed a few stokers out of the way to get to the puking Jean. "Everyone get back to work! Bodt, take him to the Engineer's surgery room on C-Deck. I'll call for the surgeon so he can examine him."

"Yes, sir." replied Marco as he slung Jean's arm over his shoulders and carefully carried him back up on deck.

---

Third-Class General Room

Shortly after breakfast, several families and single Steerage passengers have gathered in the General Room on the starboard side for other recreational activities. Among some of the female passengers, Christa, Ymir and Mina conversed with each other.

"Has anyone seen Sasha since last night?" Mina asked.

"Well, I assumed she must have gone back to her cabin after she vomited," informed Christa.

"Connie really did screw the pooch with her when she threw up all those potatoes she ate," Ymir commented.

"Potatoes? How do you know she eats them?" Christa asked with an incredulous look on her face. "I mean, don't a lot of people do?"

"Yeah, when they're cooked. Yesterday, I saw her come out of the pantry with three whole potatoes. THREE whole potatoes! She would also pick up some of the uneaten bread rolls when no one's looking," explained Ymir.

"That sounds like something she would do," affirmed Mina.

"I call it like I see it." Ymir stated.

"Sounds like something you would do, too…" Christa said with a raised eyebrow.

"What…?" Mina asked but Ymir interjects by teasing Christa.

"Oh, Christa, you little scallywag." Ymir chuckled in exaggeration as she tousled the petite girl's hair.

"Excuse me?" said a male voice as the girls turned to see a buff young man and his taller friend; it was Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover from Second-Class. Reiner smiled as he held up his bible. "Would you like to hear the good news?"

Ymir frowned as she looked at the bible in Reiner's hands and contemplated to herself, "Great… I'm stuck on a boat with a couple of Jesus freaks."

"Huh, what good news?" Christa asked confusingly.

"I think they're missionaries," Mina surmised.

"Missionaries?" The blonde girl asked.

"They're just a bunch of Catholics that go around and do their ritualistic bible-thumping on those who are up to no good." The freckled tomboy said bluntly.

"You hit people with your bibles?! That's so mean, why would you do that?" Christa asked naively.

"No! No! We don't hit people!" Bertholdt said anxiously. "Also, we're Protestant, not Catholic."

"I think your friend is inferring that we judge people based on how they live, but that would be a sin. Only God has the right to judge," Reiner explained. "We only share His word with others, so they can be given the choice to live vicariously through Him."

"Oh, sorry, I grew up in a sheltered home, so I don't know any of that." Christa said shyly.

"It's all right. My name is Reiner… Reiner Braun." said the blond youth as he introduced himself politely.

"I'm Bertholdt Hoover. It's good to meet you." Bertholdt greeted shyly as he smiled.

"At least they're consistent with their faith," said Mina.

"Wow, talk about a holy three-pointer for the altar boys." Ymir said sarcastically, which received a chastising stare from Christa.

"Don't listen to her, she's normally not as rude as she is right now," The short girl apologized.

"It's alright. We've dealt with worse," Reiner said passively.

"Who could be worse than me?" scoffed Ymir, though her comment fell on deaf ears as Bertholdt spoke up.

"We're also planning on having a bible study this evening at 8:00 p.m. in this room," The taller young man informed the three girls. "Would any of you like to join us?"

Christa pondered for a moment; a small frown fell upon her, but it quickly disappeared as she looked up and replied with a short nod, "I appreciate the invitation, but I think I'll pass."

"Same with me," Ymir replied.

"I would like to," Mina said willingly. "I brought my own bible, and I do know a few good passages that I've bookmarked."

"That would be splendid!" Reiner said cheerfully.

"8:00 p.m., right?"

"Yes, it will be soon after dinner," explained Bertholdt. "Have a blessed day."

"You too!" Mina waved to the duo as both of the Second-Class passengers left the General Room. The girl with pig-tails then turned to her two friends. "I should go ask Connie and Thomas if they can join us. I'll see you two later."

"Bye, Mina," Christa waved to the dark-haired girl as she exited the room. Christa's frown returns as her head bowed towards the floor. "At least she has something to believe in."

Ymir looked at the blonde girl with a neutral expression, "Who needs a book to tell you how to have faith? All that stuff on how to be a better person are just guidelines."

"Well, not a book filled with rules, but God in general," retorted Christa. "When I was little, I never really relied on religion in the first place."

"I know I did," Ymir elaborated. "But you don't see me handing out tickets to Heaven like a dorky salesman."

After a few moments, Christa silently gets up from her seat as she makes her way out onto the deck, "I'll be outside waiting for you."

Ymir nodded as the smaller girl walked out of the General Room. "Whatever you say, Your Majesty."

---

Forward Well Deck

10:00 a.m.

Jean emerged from underneath the forecastle deck as he was ordered by the surgeon, the ship's doctor, to rest for a while to recover from his nausea. Unfortunately, the doctor was able to deduce the symptoms of the stoker's hangover, which garnered Chief Fireman Barrett to chew him out and order him to work a double shift as punishment once he recovers from the hangover.

Some of the Third-Class passengers and the sailors that occupy this section can be seen strolling about. The First-Class passengers also appear on the bridge promenades of the upper decks as they looped through their respective areas. Jean remembered seeing one of the First-Class stewardesses, a dark-haired beauty who caught his eye at first glance. As soon as the thought of her dashed through his mind, his eyebrows raised at a similar figure climbing down the stairs from B-Deck to the well deck. It was another stewardess with reddish-brown hair; it was clear that she was not the same girl from before.

The stoker, however, had at least one assumption, which prompted him to make direct contact with her, "Hey, red-head."

"Pardon?" The confused stewardess faced the young man with a crooked neck and a confused stare.

"Have I seen you somewhere?" inquired Jean, who somewhat recognized the young girl.

"Depends, are you one of the firemen working below the ship?" The stewardess asked, which received a nod of affirmation from Jean. "Well, I guess since you've been in the Third-Class area before, you may have seen me working in Steerage."

"Right, you're one of the housekeepers," Jean replied flippantly. "Weren't you at that Third-Class party last night?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," The red-haired girl moaned. "I was dancing with one of the passengers, then I threw up… it was not my evening. The matron had a cow when she found out about that."

"Yeah, I got drunk, ended up blowing chunks this morning and I am still hungover," The stoker said sheepishly as he rubbed his forehead as his head continued to throb. "Safe to say, we both had a shitty time that ended with vomit all over the deck."

"Amen to that," The stewardess said with sheer exaggeration. "Oh, I'm Sasha Braus, by the way."

"Jean Kirschtein… So, do you know any of the other ladies working in First-Class?" Jean said finally.

"The other stewardesses? Yeah, of course," Sasha retorted. "Why do you ask?"

Jean then awkwardly put his hand behind his head and pressed the other against his waist as his face flushed a shade of pink, "Uh, well, I noticed one of them yesterday up on the promenade deck. She was pretty cute."

"Gonna have to be a little more specific." The red-haired young woman said with a straight face.

"She has black hair and she's sort of Asian…" Jean elaborated.

"Oh, you mean, Mikasa?" Sasha inquired as she fully recognized the description.

"What's she like?" The young man asked eagerly.

"She's alright; I mean, there's nothing wrong with her, she just keeps to herself. She focuses more on her job than anything else," Sasha explained before giving a quizzical look at the stoker. "You're not thinking of asking her out, are you?"

"Not exactly, I just figured she seemed approachable," Jean said vaguely.

"She's not the type who would talk to just anyone besides an authority figure, believe me," said Sasha. "Also, she's more friendly with somebody else."

"Who would that be?" Jean asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just someone that she knows since childhood, but they're more like brother and sister as far as I know. Honestly, I wouldn't get worked up over that," Sasha explained further until she creates a dumbfounded look on her face. "Wait, why am I explaining this to you? Match-making isn't a part of my paygrade! Also, what Mikasa does outside of work is none of your business!"

"Hey, I have a social life, too! What, am I not allowed to interact with a fellow crewmember?!" The young man said apprehensively.

"Look, whatever you do on your own time is none of my business," The red-haired stewardess retorted. "If you wanna write her a sappy love letter or something as a way of announcing your feelings to the world, be my guest. I'm just saying, you shouldn't be harassing my fellow stewardess like some barmaid at a pub."

Jean was about to make a retort, until he received an epiphany from Sasha's previous statement. He ponders on that thought as the stewardess decides to end the conversation. "If you don't mind, I gotta get my crap together and help the passengers, you… glorified chimney-sweep."

The stoker ignored Sasha's blunt comment as he formulated an idea out of his own agency; but not before another headache breaks his concentration.

---

Boat Deck (Starboard-Side)

2:30 p.m.

It was shortly after having lunch when Thomas Andrews was out on deck as he stood against the bulwark with a looming melancholy as he watched the ocean go by. The Irish gentleman felt a deep longing for his home country of Ireland, which was the final port of call in Titanic's voyage before moving forward to New York. His homesickness loomed over him for a while, which is common for an Irishman when they are separated from the Emerald Isle.

Charles Joughin, the Chief Baker of the ship's Victualling crew, approached the architect with a loaf of bread wrapped in sheet paper, "Hello, Mr. Andrews, how are you today?"

"Oh, I'm all right, Mr. Joughin," replied Andrews with a depressed monotone.

"Still missing Ireland, sir?" inquired the Chief Baker.

Andrews sighed, "I'm afraid so. Although, there is not much I can do to alleviate it. It'll pass once we are out of Europe's reach, anyway."

"I figured as much, sir. Which is why I made you a loaf of Irish soda bread to make you feel better," Joughin unwrapped a part of the bread to reveal the powdered dough.

"Soda bread? Aye, that's very kind of you, thank you." Andrews said as his disposition brightened up.

"It is a pleasure, sir. You've been very helpful to the crew these past few days, and you have earned that treat along with our gratitude," affirmed Joughin in a cheerful manner. He then turns towards aft as he carries on with his day. "You have a lovely day now."

"You as well," nodded Andrews before taking a bite of the soda bread.

"Mr. Andrews?" said Armin as the blond steward came up and approached Andrews.

The Irishman swallowed before speaking, "Arlert, how are you, lad?"

"I hope you wouldn't mind if I spoke with you during my break?" asked Armin.

"Of course, what is it that you need?" inquired the architect.

The young boy pulls out his sketchbook and flips open the pages, "You see, sir, after gaining inspiration from other ships, as well as from Titanic's deck plans, I've been designing schematics for a ship of my own."

"I see, so you're interested in naval architecture?" Andrews asked with intrigue.

"Yes, sir," Armin replied as he showed Andrews his drawings. "This is only a draft, so it may have more flaws in its design. I have also mapped out its interior structure."

Andrews analyzed the schematics of the new ship as he poured over the details of its framework, "This is actually a very competent design, Armin… very competent, indeed. How long have you studied engineering?"

"For a few years, sir," Armin retorted. "I've always had a fascination with ships and I've kept up with every make and model that has been constructed thus far. My grandfather also worked as a builder at Harland & Wolff, which is how I learned about ship terminology."

"And at such a young age? That is very promising," beamed Andrews. "Now, this is a very competent design draft for a ship, but overtime, you will find more to improve upon this design. There is at least one thing that sticks out to me, and that's the watertight compartments. They are a wee bit higher than E-Deck, even more so than the regulations required."

"Well, sir, I thought perhaps that in the event that water would enter the compartments, they would spill over the bulkheads and start filling the next. I've looked at the designs of several ships and I assumed Titanic also has a similar flaw regarding her bulkheads. So with my ship's design, I had to box in each compartment so the flooding would be kept minimal," Armin explained.

"That is… quite an attention to detail," replied Andrews. "However, it would limit most of the passenger movement within the ship itself, which can be problematic."

"I understand, but I would argue that the ship would be able to withstand potential flooding a lot longer if the water was kept isolated within a certain compartment," The blond boy elaborated.

"You make an excellent point." Andrews pondered.

"There is also another detail that I am trying to correct," Armin continued as he pointed to the upper decks of his ship. "I have added at least forty lifeboats to this ship, which can accommodate its estimated capacity. I've considered this seeing as how Titanic has only twenty boats; after I did the math, I realized that they can only carry half of the people on board."

"I'm surprised that you've caught on to that," The Irishman replied as he approached the stationed Lifeboat 7 to give a demonstration. "Each boat can carry up to at least seventy men, and the collapsible boats up to forty. Originally, Titanic's first design was meant to carry more boats, but due to her gross tonnage, it had to be trimmed down and adjusted to the current number that she has now."

"I figured it had something to do with deck space." Armin surmised.

"Not exactly, because the Board of Trade's regulations require that a ship as big as Titanic or her sister ship, Olympic, need to have only a specific amount of boats to be carried." Andrews explained further. "But in the event of an evacuation, the boats can ferry the passengers to a rescue ship with high efficiency and coordination."

"Sir… I've noticed that other ships still have these flaws, and I'm concerned that they may not be entirely adequate." Armin stated with a solemn expression.

"What do you mean?" asked Andrews.

"Forgive me, it's just that… I think the safety of people on board these vessels should be considered given that there have been other disasters at sea," The steward insisted.

"Well, the White Star Line has been through some tragedies beforehand, so surely there couldn't be too many oversights that have not been addressed, besides the ones that you have pointed out." reassured Andrews.

"You see, Mr. Andrews, I have a reason for concern," Armin said as his eyes lowered with a tinge of somber. "When I was younger, my parents died in a shipwreck. Although the ship they were on was supposedly well-equipped to be safe, its shortcomings cost the lives of several people, including my Mom and Dad. My grandfather, up until he died, had to raise me on his own."

"I'm… sorry for your loss, son." Andrews said sympathetically.

"That's why I want to build a stronger ship, so that every soul that boards her can be safer; and no one will be lost to the sea again." Armin explained. "I know it sounds naive, but I think there is a way we can tame the ocean for all who sail it."

"I admire your ambition, Armin. I think if you focus your heart and mind on it, I believe you may be able to build a ship that's even stronger, faster, and grander than that of Titanic or any other ship afloat!" The architect said with sheer optimism. "As of now, however, you still have a strong, safe liner that can withstand the Atlantic and whatever it may throw at her."

"Thank you, sir." smiled Armin. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Here, keep designing your ship, and it might land you an apprenticeship." Andrews said encouragingly as he handed the sketchbook back to Armin.

"I will, sir!" Armin nodded. "But right now, I should get back to work. My break is almost over."

"Don't let me stop you, then," smirked Andrews as the young boy went back inside to return to his shift. The architect pulls out his pocket watch to check the time. "Now, I should go and meet with Miss Zoe, she must be anxious to have her run-around of the ship."

---

Second-Class Promenade (B-Deck)

3:00 p.m.

For a certain amount of time, Marlo Freudenberg, a reporter for The New York Times, went over the notes of what he had gathered from some of the passengers about their thoughts on Titanic's maiden voyage. While his editor, Hitch, and his photographer, Boris, retired to their cabins, Marlo was left to record as many of the interviews as possible.

As the reporter skimmed through his notes, Annie Leonhart, his impromptu informant, casually but promptly approached him, "Marlo… I have what you need."

Slightly startled by her quick appearance, Marlo looked at the girl as he clutched his notepad tightly, "Oh, Annie, I… I figured you would come through eventually."

"The lower decks are like a maze, that's why I didn't come to you sooner." Annie explained as she stood next to the reporter.

"All right, so what do you have for me?" inquired Marlo as he flipped through his notebook and readied his pencil.

"There are at least two ways to get into First-Class undetected: The first one will take you through Third-Class on E-Deck. There is a long, wide corridor called Scotland Road on the port-side that's mainly used by crew and Steerage passengers, and there will be a doorway that will lead you to the bottom landing of the Grand Staircase near the bow," Annie said to the reporter as the latter wrote the information down on the pad. "I would only use the stairs to climb up in case the lift operators bar you from entering the area, and there aren't many stewards keeping watch while they are on the clock."

"What about the second route?" Marlo asked.

"You see that door, over there?" Annie said as she indicated to the closed door at the end of the starboard promenade. "It leads into one of the cafés. It's mainly used by staff members, but the passengers that dine in there don't pay much attention to it, even when it's busy during dinner service. Still, be careful of the staff when there's more traffic during that time."

"Thank you for providing us this information, however, we'll need a bit more planning if we're going to snag that scoop from Ismay."

"Glad I could be of help." The blonde girl said modestly as she proceeded to walk away, only to be stopped by Marlo.

"Wait, about that favor you asked for…" The reporter said insistently, but was then interjected by the girl.

"If I need that favor, I'll let you or one of your friends know." Annie said briefly, slightly turning her head to place her eyes unto the young man's gaze. With that said, she walks away from Marlo as she continues on with her day.

The dark-haired young man, who was somewhat flabbergasted by her disposition, looked at his notes as he formulated his plans to get into First-Class. "Route 1 or Route 2? I should talk this over with Boris and Hitch, though I think tomorrow evening would be a suitable opportunity after we figure out our plan…"

While Marlo contemplates his options, Annie strolls down to the end of the aft promenade as she leans against the railing that is elevated with a view of the aft well-deck with the Third-Class passengers wandering the lower deck in a casual manner. Annie glanced at the people below her as she folded her arms on the wooden base of the railing. She reminisces the day before when she "scouted" the bottom decks of the ship and the First-Class areas.

---

Scotland Road (E-Deck)

1 Day Earlier

April 11th, 1912; 3:40 p.m.

Annie calmly walked through the long, wide corridor that resides below deck. She was as composed as the passengers and crew that walked past her as she became familiarized with the passageways of Titanic's E-Deck while using her photographic memory. The girl took a glance to her right and saw a steward exit an open doorway; she stopped as she saw a glimpse of linoleum tiles and a gilded balustrade. As the steward moved further down Scotland Road, she stepped through the threshold and into the First-Class area of E-Deck.

She glances from side-to-side as she barely noticed any crew members within the vicinity. Past the landing of the E-Deck staircase, Annie looks down the short corridor as she hears the gates of the lifts open and shutter as they are currently in operation. She turns to the staircase as she starts to ascend the stairs to the next deck. The quiet ambience of the previous deck was replaced with the social chatter that was customary within the Reception Room. Annie climbed up the right side of the stairs as she turned towards the center of the D-Deck landing. As usual, the passengers tended to their own devices as they enjoyed their afternoon tea with the accompaniment of the orchestra as they played an instrumental rendition of "Maple Leaf Rag" by Scott Joplin. With nothing of note to observe, Annie continues upward to C-Deck.

When she reaches the next deck, she takes notice of the Purser's Office on the starboard side of the lobby. The young missionary, with her Bible in hand, sits down at a lounge chair that's nearest to the Purser's Office, opens the book and quietly reads to herself while her ears remain vigilant to any and all conversations to the right of her.

A tall, blond man entered the lobby as he stood behind a passenger as they were waited on by the Chief Purser. "And here is your ticket to the Turkish Bath, sir. Have a pleasant day."

Once the male passenger received his ticket and stepped out of line, the blond man approached the counter of the office. "Pardon me, but I need to see my personal item that the Lance Corporal's secretary stored here?"

"Ah, yes, Colonel Smith. I will retrieve that for you." The Purser replied as he went to the back of the office and returned momentarily with the manila envelope. "Here it is, sir. Kept a close eye on it at your behest."

"This will certainly do. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir. Enjoy your day." nodded the Purser as the Colonel turned to the Grand Staircase and ascended the stairs.

Annie closes her Bible and gets up out of her chair. She then approaches the counter to talk with the Purser, "Excuse me, sir?"

"How can I help you, miss?" The officer inquired.

"I just want to ask a few questions, if you don't mind?" Annie requested.

"Of course, what would you like to know?" The Purser asked.

"How much do you know about the people on board this ship?" questioned the blonde girl.

"Like the back of my hand, miss. I keep track of all the goings on amongst the passengers and crew." The crewman answered.

"Do you know of any nobles or royalty on board?" Annie asked.

"In First-Class? Yes, there is a Countess aboard. The Countess of Rothes, I believe."

"What about heiresses? Any of them with a surname that starts with 'R'?" The girl inquired.

"Is there someone you're looking for?" The Purser questioned.

"Just a friend. She doesn't know I'm here, so I wanted to find her." Annie responded as the Chief Purser took out the crew and passenger list and scanned the names.

"Robert, Rosenbaum, Rothes, Rothschild, Ryerson… do any of these sound familiar?" The Chief Purser inquired as he combed through the names on the list.

"No, not really." Annie replied with a neutral tone. "I think she may be in another class."

"Well, I can check the Second-Class list, if you'd like." offered the gentleman in the uniform.

"Actually, she may be in Third-Class, if I'm not mistaken." Annie surmised.

"Now, I believe the Second-Class Purser on E-Deck may be of more help to you. He has the passenger list for Steerage." informed the Purser.

"All right, I will check with him, then. Thank you." nodded Annie as she turned away from the office.

"You're welcome, miss." The Purser said politely as he went on with his duties.

With her eyes glowering with a sign of intent, she heads to the elevator and awaits the arrival of the center lift. When the lift finally makes it to the deck, the gates open with a lift attendant standing at attention with his hand clutching the lever, "Where to, ma'am?"

Annie silently enters the elevator while two other passengers dispersed from the same lift. She crosses her arms as her face softens to her more normal expression, "Down… as far as it can go."

"Yes, ma'am." The attendant nodded as he closed the gates and pulled the lever downward, commanding the lift to descend to the very bottom deck.

---

Once she fades back into present time, she looks up to the aft end of the A-Deck promenade as she sees two men, one with blond hair and one with dark hair, standing at the railing above her.

"She's always with that boy twenty-four/seven," The man with the dark hair, who happened to be Gunther Schultz, said as he sipped from his flask of whiskey. "He seems pretty protective of her."

"That's because he's supposed to," replied the blond man, Eld Gin, as he used a small pair of binoculars to scan the well deck and the poop deck. "It's part of the plan."

"But what if he's… you know?" Gunther surmised in a vague manner.

"If that were the case, he would've done it by now." Eld insisted.

Annie looked to where Eld was looking as she eyed the group of Third-Class passengers that were gathered on the lower decks, but could not recognize which individuals the men were referring to. She does notice another blonde girl who was shorter than herself standing with a taller and slender person with freckles, though Annie could already tell that the taller figure was a girl.

Gunther takes another swig of his whiskey when he glances down to his left towards the starboard side on B-Deck. The Second-Class girl turned and walked off as Gunther eyed the activity that occurred beneath him.

Eld notices his partner's wandering gaze, "What is it?"

"Uh… nothing, just drifting off, I guess," Gunther replied as he plugs the aluminum stopper into the flask.

---

Levi's Stateroom (A-Deck)

6:30 p.m.

Levi looked back at himself in the mirror of his boudoir as he straightened his bowtie. He was already groomed and prepared in his dinner suit like an official gentleman. Dinner in First-Class would soon be ready within the hour; this daily occasion is the social highlight for all the wealthy passengers on the ship. Sometimes the captain himself would be present as a guest of honor when he dines alongside society's elite. Nevertheless, the Corporal must be dressed accordingly in his formal attire as it is customary for a British ship's dining accommodations to have an uptight dinner service.

Before he turns to leave his cabin, he looks down at the nightstand and sees the letter that he received from steward Jaeger. He picks up the letter and examines the front of the envelope: It had a cursive handwriting as the letters were inscribed, "To LCpl. Ackerman". Levi thought of opening and reading the letter, but only after dinner service, as he tucked the letter into his jacket pocket.

He exits the cabin as he circles the A-Deck balustrades of the Aft Grand Staircase and heads down the open corridor on the port-side of the staircase. As he bypasses the narrow hallway, he goes through a revolving door that leads into the First-Class Lounge. The lounge, which was modeled in the style of Louis XV and was adorned with an electric chandelier at the center of the ceiling, gave off an air of grandeur for the passengers that remained in the room.

As Levi enters the expansive room, he sees Petra sitting on a lounge chair as she sees her boss standing nearby. The secretary, who was dressed in an amber-colored gown and her ginger hair pinned back into a neat bun and carrying a small handbag, immediately gets up from the chair to greet her superior, "Lance Corporal, there you are!"

"Miss Ral, how are you this evening?" inquired Levi.

"I am quite fine, sir," Petra said politely as she blushed. "You look very handsome in your tux, by the way!"

"Thank you… and you look… very presentable as well." Levi replied as he gave a stoic compliment to the young woman.

"I'm glad you noticed, sir. I found this nice garment when I was dress-shopping in France. It was the cheapest but most attractive gown the boutique had." Petra explained as she showed off the reflective material of the dress. "It's not exactly First-Class material, but I think I can pull this off."

"I see you're not with Lieutenant Oruo. The last couple of nights, you and him were together at dinner. What gives?" The Lance Corporal asked.

"Well, he and Hange went on ahead to the Reception Room. Hange wanted to punish Oruo for calling her an oddball this morning, so she forced him to escort her to dinner." Petra said with a sheepish expression.

"I see…" Levi said with a neutral gaze.

"Sir, surely you wouldn't mind chaperoning me to dinner? For manner's sake, of course." Petra inquired.

"You know it would be a taboo not to." retorted the Corporal as he and his secretary linked elbows and proceeded to exit the lounge.

The pair strolled on through the corridor to the Grand Staircase as they made their way to D-Deck. While they descended the staircase alongside other passengers, the two conversed as they took each step downward.

"So, what is this thing with you and Lt. Oruo lately?" Levi asked.

"In what regard do you mean by 'thing?'" Petra responded.

"Normally, you two would always share some obnoxious banter with one another. You seem to be more mellow ever since you departed from Cherbourg."

"Nothing has changed too much, Corporal. We just so happen to… find more common ground." Petra replied hesitantly as she shared a reassuring smile. Levi remained silent as he reluctantly accepted Petra's vague answer.

Both the Lance Corporal and his escort finally reach the D-Deck landing as they went down the gilded stairs and past the candelabra. Nearly the entirety of the First-Class populace were gathered in the Reception Room and the First-Class Dining Saloon. Several figures who were most recognizable by the reputable standing of the current era, came together for a common, yet formal dinner in the ship's most opulent dining accommodation. Everyone was dressed in their finest clothing; from the gentlemen in their sharp dinner suits and the women in their most suitable jewelry and colorful dresses.

Colonel Erwin was conversing with Major Zacharias and Colonel Archibald Gracie IV as they stood in the crowded Reception area, "Well, Gracie, you seem to be so knowledgeable about the Civil War." The Major said as he shared a glance towards Gracie.

"Quite, right, Major," Gracie replied with a prideful tone. "You see, my father was a Confederate soldier who served in the battle of Chickamauga in 1863! For years, I have researched the very battle that my father had fought in and I have dedicated to publishing my findings in my latest book: 'The Truth about Chickamauga.'"

"Interesting… My father fought for the Union army alongside the Army of the Ohio. He survived the 1862 onslaught in Shiloh, Tennessee and was honorably discharged." Erwin elaborated. "He later became a teacher and for years he taught at my hometown's local schoolhouse."

Gracie then gives a look of surprise and intrigue. "Is that so? I insist you tell me more after dinner! You just gave me an idea for my next historical insight!"

"'The Truth about Shiloh?'" Erwin retorted, which made Gracie let out a hearty chortle.

Levi and Petra came up to the three men as the shorter man spoke up, "Erwin, Major…"

"Ackerman, Miss Ral, I believe you have met Colonel Gracie?" Erwin inquired as he introduced the amateur historian to the duo.

"Ah, yes, the one who rants about Gettysburg?" Levi replied with a sardonic constitution.

"Well, to put it lightly, yes, I am." Gracie replied as he chuckled.

"Pleasure to meet you, Colonel," Petra said politely as she extended her hand to the Colonel.

"The pleasure is mine, dear," Gracie said light-heartedly as he kissed Petra's hand.

Mike then raises his nose into the air and takes a big sniff, "It smells like we are having lamb with mint sauce once more."

"With a nose like that, you may as well be smelling what the sailors are having for tomorrow's breakfast," Margaret Brown said teasingly as she and another young woman approached Mike and the two Colonels as they were dressed in their formal dinner outfits. She then turns to Erwin and Levi, "What's the good word, boys?"

"The same as usual, Mrs. Brown. We are all dressed up with nowhere to go." Erwin replied humorously.

"Ain't that the truth?" The Lance Corporal said in a sarcastic tone as he rolled his eyes.

"How are ya doin', hun?" The Southern woman greeted in a friendly manner as she turned to Petra.

"I'm doing well, Maggie." Petra said as she reciprocated Brown's greeting.

"May I introduce you to my new friend, The Countess of Rothes?" Margaret said as she addressed the woman beside her.

"How do you do?" The young Countess said politely as she spoke in a British accent and shook hands with the ginger-haired girl.

"It's a privilege to meet you, madam." Petra grinned as she returned the Countess' handshake.

"That is a very splendid dress you have." The Countess said in a complimentary manner.

"Oh, thank you," The secretary responded as she blushed.

"Petra!" cried Oruo as he frantically dragged Hange, who was donned in a peacock-colored gown, by the elbow towards the ginger-haired woman. "Thank God, I found you! You have no idea how long I have been stuck to Hange!"

"Really, Lieutenant? Is that any way to escort a lady?" Erwin said as he admonished the young Lieutenant's harsh mannerisms.

"I blame myself, Erwin. This was out of pure pettiness on my part, and I am regretting it." Hange frowned as she detached her arm from Oruo's.

"Perhaps you are in need of a last-minute gentleman, Miss Zoe?" inquired Gracie as he cheekily extended his own elbow to the brown-haired woman.

"I'm afraid I should reject your offer, Gracie. Don't get me wrong, you are very much endearing, but I prefer my own company." Hange replied as the amateur historian politely accepted the rejection.

Just then, the bugler in the Dining Saloon began to play to the tune of 'The Roast Beef of Old England', as the call summoned the passengers for the start of the evening meal.

"Sounds like the cavalry has arrived!" Gracie said jokingly as paired up with another female escort and went his way.

"You wouldn't mind if I hung around ya for a bit, Colonel?" Maggie insisted as she extended her elbow to Erwin.

"Certainly not…" Erwin grinned as he locked arms with Brown and began to chaperone her into the Dining Saloon.

"I suppose Lieutenants Gin and Schultz aren't going to join us this evening?" Mike surmised as he looked at Levi while he escorted the Countess.

"They have already made plans to dine elsewhere." said Levi as he escorted Petra into the Dining Saloon, with the Major and a singular Oruo not far behind.

Beyond the open doorway is the expansive Jacobean-style Dining Saloon, with wooden paneling enameled with a glossy white coating, the floors decorated with blue linoleum with a red and yellow pattern, draped with dark-green carpeting. The portholes on both sides of the room were hidden behind inner leaded-glass windows, which were lit by artificial lighting that provided an exquisite atmosphere for the passengers in the Saloon. The clothed tables were surrounded by green leather chairs and the table settings, stamped with the White Star Line's logo, were neatly set according to the practical dining standards.

The party sat down at a table with eight empty seats as the gentlemen pulled the chairs out for the ladies. Levi and Petra were sitting on one side of the table; Hange and Margaret Brown on another side; Erwin and the Countess of Rothes on the other, opposite Levi and Petra; and Mike and Oruo on the last side, opposite Brown and Hange.

"So, as we are awaiting our first course, perhaps Miss Zoe should get the ball rolling?" Major Zacharias suggested as he motions to the eccentric woman.

"Me? Alright… let me start by saying that my tour of Titanic was phenomenal!" Hange began with an excitable tone.

"And here we go…" Levi deadpanned.

"Mr. Andrews and I have explored the inner machinations of this ship! Including the Boiler Rooms! It was exhilarating to see those boilers pump out that steam!" Hange said with an unfiltered enthusiasm.

"It sounds like Andrews was a very patient tour guide." teased Maggie.

"Indeed, he is a very sagacious man." The Countess nodded in agreement.

"Oh, intriguing. Why don't you tell us all about the reciprocating engines, Hange? Did you get a good look at those propellers?" Oruo asked with subtle sarcasm.

"Heh, if I could grow gills," scoffed Hange, which received a light chuckle from some of the guests at the table. "Of course, the engines were beyond their prime. They're the reason this ship is running at a whopping twenty-one knots!"

"This ship is state of the art, after all," acknowledged Erwin as a waiter poured him a glass of champagne. "The Irishmen who have built this ship have put much heart into it."

"Countess, what exactly do you do outside of your regal position?" Petra asked the Countess of Rothes.

"Charity work, dear. I've donated much of my time and resources for several organizations, including the Red Cross. I have hosted many events in order to raise money for causes that I deemed to be in need of care." The Countess elaborated.

"In that case, that would truly make you a NOBLEwoman." Oruo said jokingly, which made the Countess giggle from the awkward pun, though the rest of the patrons at the table stayed silent; Zacharias, most certainly, as he simply turned away and sipped his champagne.

"Might I also add that she is an avid dancer?" chimed Maggie which made the Countess flush with modesty.

"Well, I dabble in such affairs." The Countess grinned as she fluttered her fabric fan.

"Miss Ral, how was your time in France with the Lieutenants? Did they treat you fairly, as should any lady ought to be?" inquired Erwin.

"Of course, sir; in fact, the last few months there have been the most memorable." Petra said fondly.

"I take it you've seen all of the sights in Paris? Especially the Seine? I tell ya, the quality of that river is cleaner than the Missouri river." Maggie said as she reminisced about her recent trip to Paris.

"Indeed, though we've been to Paris at least three times. We've stayed in a village outside of the City of Lovers, but it was situated in a pleasant part of the countryside." Oruo explained.

"The fact that you said 'City of Lovers' in the same sentence puts an odd taste in my mouth," Levi said sardonically.

"Well, I believe it's a fitting name for it. Petra, you and I agree that the city is perfect for the ideal couple. Especially after the time we spent…" Oruo said before Petra swiftly kicks his shin underneath the table, causing him to bite his tongue again.

The Countess lets out a hushed gasp as Maggie peers over at the young man and young woman, while Hange just gives an undisclosed stare. Levi pinches the bridge of his nose while Erwin did not give much of a reaction, though he glanced at the Lieutenant's distress. Major Zacharias hands Oruo a handkerchief to clean up the droplets of blood. Petra gave a display of embarrassment while she quietly mouthed an apology to the man she kicked.

A concerned waiter came over to the table to tend to Oruo, "Is everything all right here?"

"It's fine, he simply had an accident." Erwin replied.

"Yes, yes, I am rather clumsy," Oruo explained as he spoke with his sore tongue sticking out. "I just hit my leg against the table and the shock made me bite my tongue."

"I suppose you won't be having the soup this evening?" inquired the waiter as Oruo nodded 'no'.

---

A-Deck Promenade

8:20 p.m.

The evening soon started to wind down with the sun fully set and another night arriving on the Atlantic. Dinner was wrapping up for the passengers, with some taking another stroll out on the decks of the brightly lit ocean liner. The weather was still clear, though there was a heavy chill that came down, which is normal for this current season, as the ice melting away from the Arctic glaciers would drift southbound towards the North Atlantic; plus, the ocean itself would often be below freezing at night.

Upon the outdoor area of the aft portion of the promenade, Major Zacharias took a whiff of the cold, frisky air, "I can smell ice far off from our location."

"Which direction?" inquired Hange as she, Oruo, and Petra observed the outer setting of the ocean.

"Westward. We may be passing by an icefield in the next few days or so." Mike observed as he analyzed the texture of the scent.

"Sounds like the North Pole is melting at a faster rate than before." commented Petra.

"The Arctic is basically shedding its icy shell; kind of like how my cats are shedding their fur right now," explained Hange as she began to lament for her pets. "Too bad, I'm not at home to spend quality time with them."

"So… are we going to talk about what happened at dinner?" Oruo asked as he looked at Petra with a chastising stare.

"What's there to talk about?" Petra replied in a coy manner.

"You kicked me! Of all the impropriety and in front of all people, you just had to do that in front of a freaking Countess!" The young man argued, raising his voice at the secretary.

"I thought I told you beforehand that I didn't want to talk about what happened in Paris?" retorted Petra.

"Should we be here for this?" The Major said awkwardly to Hange, as the latter adjusted her glasses with a contempt disposition.

"All we did was share a simple kiss! How is that so shameful?" questioned Oruo.

"I'm still processing that!" The young woman exclaimed. "And I trusted you to be discreet about it, and yet that blunder happened!"

"We were just talking about ice and cats, how did this conversation devolve into this?" Hange said in disbelief as she gestured her arms to the arguing duo.

"It was not the most appropriate response at the time, I will admit, but I did not want to be put on the spot when you said it so carelessly!" stated Petra.

"I mean, admittedly, that moment we had in ol' Paree was a touching one. After all, you do have a thing for esteemed gentlemen." boasted Oruo, which made Petra fluster with deep offense.

"Oh, don't get me started! Is it because you think that I have a thing for the Lance Corporal?! Is that why you're trying to measure up to him by wearing that damn napkin on your neck?" Petra fired back at the lieutenant as he was taken aback by the shrewd comment.

"Well, he is a good example of gentle masculinity! This 'cravat' is a symbol of that!" Oruo explained.

"I don't care about that silly… thing!" argued Petra. "If I wanted a gentleman that isn't stuck on his pride, I would be even more admirable of the Corporal. However, I only see him as a professional with decency, and with you, I only see an immature brat."

Oruo started to stammer as he tried to make a comeback, "Why I… I…"

"Enough, the whole ship can hear your squabbling," announced Levi as he finally appeared with a frown of disdain on his face. "The way that you two have been acting since dinner is appalling. You weren't this childish from the start of this voyage, so I expect that you show some proper social initiative. Whatever melodrama you are dealing with, handle it privately and not in front of well-mannered people. Is that understood?"

Petra and Oruo sheepishly drew back with the harsh absconding of Levi's demands. They look back at one another before turning to the Lance Corporal with apologetic expressions.

"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again." Petra said calmly.

"Yes, sir. I whole-heartedly apologize." Oruo replied nervously as he offered a humble salute.

Levi nods with content. "Good. I'll be in the Smoking Room with Colonel Smith for the evening. Please behave yourselves."

Once the Lance Corporal turned away and headed back inside, Petra gave a composed glance to Oruo, "If you don't mind, I would like to be alone for a bit."

"Right, I suppose that applies to me as well." Oruo said calmly as he cleared his throat.

Petra then walked towards aft to the stern section as she distanced herself from her colleagues, leaving the embarrassed Lieutenant alongside an awkward Hange and Mike.

"Well… I think I am going to retire to my cabin for the evening, what say you, Major?" Hange inquired swiftly.

"Yes, I should probably head to bed as well. Good night, Lieutenant Bozad." Zacharias replied as he bid 'good night' to Oruo as the brown-haired woman followed suit while the two retreated inside. The Lieutenant sighed as he leaned against the bulwark, overlooking the port-side hull of Titanic as he sulked over the view of the dark, glassy sea.

Meanwhile, above on the aft end of the Boat Deck, Eren, Mikasa and Armin stood near the railing that peered over the stern section as they had a quiet discussion.

"So, that's your plan? You're going to meet the Lance Corporal at this exact spot, tomorrow evening?" Armin asked his friend as they went over Eren's chance meeting with the American soldier.

"Yes, and I know he goes to bed at 9:00, which will give him time beforehand to have this meeting. This is a very secluded spot on the ship, aside from the bow and the poop deck." Eren elaborated.

"If he reads the letter, that is." added Mikasa.

"And he will." The brown-haired young man said intently, though he sees that Armin is adamant about the plan while Mikasa still maintains her calm demeanor. To ease his blond friend's tension, Eren changes the focus of the conversation, "Armin, what did Andrews say about your ship designs?"

"He said they were good, but I needed to put more effort into the details of the ship. Still, I think my plans may be too ambitious the more I think about it." Armin surmised as he gave a hint of doubt.

"You'll get your ship one day, Armin. Maybe one day all three of us can sail the world on it." Eren said hopefully.

"As a warship?" questioned Mikasa.

"Oh, yeah! If it's strong enough to fight, it can carry us, too!" Eren said boisterously.

"It's not meant to fight anything. It's just a regular ocean liner." explained Armin.

Eren raised an eyebrow. "But you said it's unsinkable, right? It ought to be a multi-purpose ship; it can carry people and sink other ships!"

"When would we need a ship like that?" Armin said incredulously.

"If the whole world was to go to war, of course!" exclaimed Eren.

"That's ridiculous. I mean, it could happen in theory, but it's unlikely something of that magnitude would happen…" Armin argues when Mikasa interrupts the conversation.

"Do you hear that?" said Mikasa in a hushed tone as she looked out from the vantage point of the Boat Deck.

"What is it?" Eren asked worriedly.

The dark-haired stewardess remained silent for a moment, "I heard a man raise his voice."

The two boys grew quiet as they tried to listen for themselves. Mikasa focused intently as she looked over the railing. "I thought I heard…"

"HELP!" A shrill, feminine voice cried out in the air, as the trio picked up on the echoed distance of the sound.

---

Poop Deck

10 Minutes Earlier

At the very end of Titanic's stern, the blonde girl, Christa, stood up on the railing of the Poop Deck as she watched the ship's rudder leave behind a trail of churned seawater in its wake. She solemnly looks outward to what was beyond the shroud of darkness that was further from the edge of the ship as it could only be illuminated by the stars in the sky. Deep in thought, she glanced down at the disturbed surface of the Atlantic; she felt the need to dive into what she could see as the void, in which the vessel currently glides atop of. With little awareness, Christa was surprised by Ymir's presence, as the latter appeared before her traveling companion.

"Christa…" announced the tall girl as the shorter girl turned her head.

"Hey, Ymir," Christa said quietly as the boyish girl came up to the railing and stood beside her.

"Conny told me you'd be up here. What's up?" Ymir asked nonchalantly as she gripped the flag pole that stood up at the very end of the deck.

"Nothing really. I just wanted to be alone for a bit." replied Christa with an airy crisp in her voice.

"Yeah, I can be kind of irritating. Don't blame ya." Ymir said light-heartedly, though it didn't get a rise from Christa.

"Actually, it's another thing," explained Christa. "I've been thinking about… well, how it was before this. Before having to pack up and get on this rotten boat."

Ymir silently looked at Christa, anticipating what she may say next. The blonde continued, "Remember this morning when those missionaries talked to us and mentioned all those things about God?"

"Yeah, like I said, you don't need to read a book to know how to be decent." Ymir restated.

"But… if there really is a god, then I have a suspicion that…" Christa hesitates before she stops herself. "Actually, it's just ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous? That God doesn't have a plan for you?" Ymir asked with incredulity.

"No, of course, not; He, or She, or They, would have some kind of destiny for me. I just… don't see it, yet." Christa insisted anxiously, though Ymir's gaze has yet to change.

The freckled girl huffed as she rested her chin on her hand, "I guess you make a decent point. But as far as I know, I'm the one making the plans for myself. Like how I planned to meet you and get on this giant steamer with you."

"And how you're gonna live your life in America by yourself. I get it," Christa nodded. "Though, don't you ever get tired of being alone?"

"I've been alone for the longest time. I mean, I could settle down if I wanted to." Ymir responded.

"Then, your plans do change whether you want them to or not. We're probably not in control of everything in our lives, like what you think you do with yours." Christa surmised with an optimistic attitude.

Ymir then affectionately pats her friend on the head, "Don't get too ahead of yourself. But if you wanted me to, you could've asked me to stay with your family."

"Yeah, you don't have to be a vagabond forever. If my half-sister is willing, she could let you stay at her place in Richmond." offered Christa.

"If she's gonna let me, said 'vagabond', into her home in the first place." Ymir replied with an ounce of doubt in her tone.

"Well, I knew her from when she used to visit me in the countryside. Surely, she's nice enough to accept anyone who is friends with me." The petite blonde said hopefully as she grinned.

Ymir nodded as she looked up at the sky, which was already packed with stars, "That sky is as dazzling as it ever was. When we're far out from civilization, this is the best view that you could get."

Christa silently watched the stars from the elevated view of the railing in awe at the variety of constellations and star patterns in the atmosphere. Ymir had a similar look, but had a more sentimental feel when she fixed her gaze upon the sky above.

Meanwhile, Petra Ral walked down the stairs to the Aft Well Deck as she passed by two other sailors, including Able Seaman Hannes as he spoke to a fellow crewmen. Hannes briefly looked in Petra's direction as he greeted her, "Evening, ma'am."

Petra politely waved back as she walked alongside the port-side bulwark before climbing up the stairs to the Poop Deck. She stood next to the railing while she reminisced her time in France with the Lieutenants. During those last few months of early 1912, Colonel Erwin, Lance Corporal Ackerman, and Hange Zoe were taking care of important matters in England while she stayed up-to-date with the Corporal's messages that were sent to her and the Lieutenants. The very last time she and Oruo visited Paris was the most memorable as they shared meaningful conversations throughout their visit to the city. Petra remembered quite vividly as she and Oruo shared a long, overly passionate kiss. For a while, she felt perplexed by the intimate moment, but gradually she became accepting of it, but is still uncertain of what she feels for the Lieutenant and his endearing disposition.

"Goddammit…" sighed Petra as she clutched the railing with both of her hands while she pondered the thought. The sounds that she heard were only of the rippling waves of Titanic's suction and the wind that carried on past the ship.

The patter of footsteps on the deck picked up while the very next impending moment gave Petra an immediate shock as a strong hand grabbed her neck and an arm wraps around her torso. A male figure that had their grip on the young woman spoke to her in a hushed, assertive tone, "Don't move… don't scream… Do as I say, and I won't hurt you."

"Wh-who are you?" Petra asked fearfully, knowing that this person has her at their advantage.

"You know who I am… I'm the one you and those men are looking for," The figure explained, who was concealed in a dark hood as he tightened his grip on Petra. "You know what I want, so answer me this: Where is she?"

"I don't know who you're talking about…" denied Petra.

"Don't play games with me, I know she's here on this ship," The figure said threateningly as he brought the secretary closer to the railing. "If you don't tell me, I will throw you overboard and leave you to drown. Or perhaps, you could get sucked under by the current, and then get chopped up by the propellers. Your choice."

"I'm not letting him get the better of me…" Petra thought as she tried to think of a way to escape her captor. She raises her heel steps on the figure's foot, causing him to react with pain, allowing him to loosen his grip. The secretary then opens her purse, pulls out a pen knife and swings her blade out.

The knife cuts the man's arm, forcing a painful grunt out of him; he immediately grabs Petra's forearm with his other hand, making her drop the pen knife and her purse. The figure then picks up the young woman as she lets out a yelp. He then tosses the woman over the railing as she quickly grabs on, dangling from the side of the ship.

"HELP!" Petra cried out as she hung on to the railing.

The yell carried on to the ears of Ymir and Christa from the far end of the stern, who turned to the source of the scream. Both girls ran to the port-side to see the cloaked man leering over the railing. Ymir then called out, "HEY!"

The figure briefly turned and ran from the witnesses. Ymir and Christa then heard Petra's screams as they saw the ginger-haired female holding on to the railing for dear life.

The shorter girl then reached her hand out to the distressed passenger, "Here, take my hand!"

"Hold on, we've got you!" Ymir exclaimed as she grabs Petra's right arm as Christa takes the left arm. Both of the Third-Class girls struggled to haul the woman back onto the deck as the latter continued to gasp and cry out in fear.

The two sailors who heard Petra's screams ran up the steps to the Poop Deck to help the distressed passenger. Meanwhile, Eren, who jumped down from the Boat Deck to the promenade, ran down the stairs to the Aft Well Deck as he saw a man in a cloak jump down from the Poop Deck and onto the lower deck. The man turned and ran towards the Third-Class entrance; the steward, who had an immediate suspicion, followed the man down the stairway into the lower decks.

"Hey, you! STOP!" Eren yelled as he started to give chase to the figure.

Back up on the Poop Deck, Petra held on to both Christa and Ymir as she tried to pull herself up over the railing. Ymir gritted her teeth as she used her strength to bring up the young woman, "Come on, just get your carcass up here!"

Finally, after much leeway, Petra's entire body is brought over the railing as she lands right onto the deck while both of her rescuers fall backwards. Hannes and the other sailor came rushing to the scene as they saw all three female passengers sprawled onto the deck.

"Are you okay?" Christa asked Petra, whose heart was still racing from her near-death experience.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine…" The First-Class passenger replied as Hannes helped her back up.

"Are you all hurt?" inquired the sailor.

"No, we're fine. Just frightened." Christa responded as she and Ymir stood up.

"What's all this, then?" The second sailor demanded.

"Some lunatic tried to throw this lady overboard!" shouted Ymir, much to the shock of the sailor.

Mikasa and Armin subsequently arrive onto the Poop Deck. Armin then calls out to Hannes, "Mr. Hannes, what's going on?"

"I'm afraid there's been an assault, Armin," Hannes replied as he turned to the other sailor. "Get the Master-at-Arms, now!"

---

G-Deck

Eren continued downward as he pursued the cloaked figure. The man jumped over the stairs and landed onto the final deck with a clamorous thud and ran down the long corridors. Eren tracked down the individual by the sound of his footsteps, but as he followed, the overhead noise of the turbine engines began to drown out all other sounds in the vicinity. The figure was growing further away from the pursuing steward until he made a hard right and disappeared from view. Eren, with all of his energy, sprinted down into the Turbine Engine Room.

"Where is he?!" exclaimed Eren as he seemed to have run into a dead end. He looked down from the catwalk to see nobody else around the turbine engine as it roared within the compartment. The steward covered his ears as the noise became overbearing on his senses.

"Bloody hell! What do you think you're doing here?" The Chief Engineer yelled over the sound of the engine as he came up to Eren.

"Sir! Have you seen a man come through here?!" Eren asked as he raised his voice.

"What man?" yelled the engineer as he cupped his hands to project his vocals.

"A passenger in a cape! Did you see him come through here?" Eren shouted.

"No! I haven't seen anyone besides you!" yelled the Chief Engineer. "You ought to get back up top! There's a lot of electrical equipment! You could get hurt down here!"

"What?!" Eren hollered as his ears were overstimulated by the booming noise.

"I said: Get back up top or you'll get hurt down here!" The engineer hollered back.

"I can't hear you!" Eren replied loudly.

The man then got close to Eren's face and shouted into his ear, "GET. BACK. UP. ON. DECK!"

Eren's ear rang from the range of the Chief Engineer's voice but understood the clear directions that he heard. "AYE, SIR!"

The steward quickly turned back around to where he came from and proceeded to hurry on to the top deck.

---

Minutes later, the Master-at-Arms and a few other sailors were summoned onto the Poop Deck as he questioned both Ymir and Christa about the preceding events that took place. Meanwhile, Levi, Erwin, Oruo, Eld and Gunther surrounded the stricken Petra as they conversed with her while she sat on a deck bench. Armin stood by with Hannes as Mikasa provided a blanket for Petra to keep her warm.

"The two sailors that heard the commotion claimed that a man came up and tried to throw Miss Ral overboard. Did you happen to see the man?" inquired the Master-at-Arms as he held a notepad and pen in his hands.

"Well, we saw him run away, but I don't know where he went." Christa explained.

"Did you see his face?" asked the officer.

"No, he was wearing a hood. He probably wanted something from the lady, so I guess it's a robbery gone wrong?" Ymir said methodically.

The Master-at-Arms jotted down the details of the girls' accounts. "You two were lucky to have intervened on Miss Ral's behalf, otherwise she would have been lost to the sea."

"Well, I'm glad we could help." Christa smiled while the Master-at-Arms turned his attention to the group of First-Class passengers, particularly Petra.

"Now, Miss Ral, did the perpetrator take anything of value?" The officer asked the ginger-haired young woman.

"I know I dropped my handbag during the scuffle, but he probably didn't want any possessions that I had," Petra elaborated. "I do remember cutting his arm with the pocket knife that I carried with me."

"That fiend!" growled Oruo as he assumed the worst of the suspect's intentions. "He had the cojones to think that he could take advantage of her that way! Come hell or high water, he'll pay for what he tried to do!"

"Calm yourself, Bozad," advised Eld as he turned to the secretary. "Petra, what did he say wanted from you?"

Petra glanced at Levi and Erwin before answering, "He thought that I knew someone that he was looking for. Maybe a lover of his, I think."

"What was the name of the person he was looking for?" The Master-at-Arms asked as he readied his pen.

"No, but he kept saying 'she', so it was probably another woman he was looking for." surmised Petra.

"If you ask me, it was probably just a jilted man who went crazy and thought Petra knew the woman he was with." assumed Gunther.

Just then, Eren came up to the Poop Deck and met with Mikasa, Armin, and Hannes. "What happened?"

"Some guy tried to throw a First-Class lady off the ship. The Master-at-Arms is looking into it." said Hannes.

"It was Miss Petra that he attacked." Mikasa explained, which made Eren's eyes widen with shock.

"What?! So, that man that I chased down to the bottom deck…" Eren said as he processed this information. He then turned and ran over to the Master-at-Arms. "Sir!"

"Jaeger?" muttered Levi.

"What is it, lad?" The officer asked the steward.

"I know where the man who attacked Miss Ral went!" proclaimed Eren, which garnered the surprise of the other passengers and crew that were present.

"Who was it? Did you see his face?" The Master-at-Arms said urgently.

"No, but when me, Stewardess Ackerman and Steward Arlert heard Miss Ral's scream, I came down when I saw a man in a cloak run into Third-Class." Eren elaborated.

"I assume you didn't catch him?" Levi asked with curiosity in his tone.

"No, but I chased him all the way down to G-Deck. He went into where the… the, um, um… dammit…" Eren mumbled as he tried to remember what the exact location was. He looked over to Armin for a hint, "Armin, what's the name of the thing that is connected to the reciprocating engine?"

"The turbine engine!" Armin explained enthusiastically.

"The room with the turbine engine! Yes, that's where I lost sight of him!" Eren finally said to the officer.

"So, you lost the man within the bowels of the ship?" The Master-at-Arms inquired, which received a nod of affirmation from the brown-haired steward. "Hm, it would be fruitless to find him since he has managed to slip away so easily."

"The size of this ship does live up to its namesake," Erwin said with an astute intuition. "There are only so many places he could be. For all we know, he could be another passenger hiding in plain sight."

"Quite right, I will put up a notice and make sure the crew are on high alert for this deranged suspect, including the Captain," The Master-at-Arms announced. "Rest assured, I will make sure that order will be maintained throughout the rest of this voyage. Just remain calm and do not go alone while you're still aboard the ship."

"Message received, sir. I will see to it that my travel companions have at least one partner with them." Levi said strictly.

The officer then directs his attention to the crew members, "As for all of you: Report to me if you see any suspicious activity. Also, what you saw here tonight, I want you to keep it discreet to the other passengers. We don't want anyone to be panicking over a possible maniac that's up and about."

"Yes, sir, and we will also make sure that the passengers are safe and secure." added MIkasa as she and her fellow crewmen saluted to the Master-at-Arms.

"Excellent. Have a pleasant evening, everyone. And please tread lightly." The officer said calmly as he exits the Poop Deck with Hannes and the rest of the sailors.

"Miss Ral? Shall I escort you to your cabin?" offered Mikasa.

Petra nods, "Yes, that would be fine."

"Petra… you wouldn't mind if I…" Oruo was about to ask before Petra interjects him.

"It's okay, I'm comfortable with Mikasa taking me to my room. Don't worry yourself." Petra said assuringly to her colleague.

"Hey! You forgot something!" Ymir called out as she tossed the handbag over to Oruo.

"Oh, thank you! Not just for my purse, but for you saving me." The secretary said gratefully.

"It was nothing, Miss Petra. We would have done the same for anyone else." Christa replied with a humble demeanor.

"What were your names again?" Oruo inquired as he handed the bag back to Petra.

"I'm Christa Lenz. I'm from Lyon, France." The small blonde girl replied with a friendly greeting.

Ymir stood silently with a stoic stare, but aloofly retorts, "Ymir… not much about me."

Oruo narrowed his eyes at the freckled teen with a lack of respect; Eld and Gunther glanced at each other with acknowledgement; Levi simply gave an unemotional reaction when he looked back at the boyish Ymir; Petra, the stewards and stewardess remained neutral.

"You know, I think their valiant efforts for saving Miss Ral deserves an honorable reward," Erwin suggested. "Perhaps, tomorrow evening, you two would like to have dinner with us in First-Class?"

"Huh? You sure you don't want to give us a 100 or something?" Ymir asked with a confused expression on her face.

"What's money compared to the life of a person? I'd say take it or leave it." Eld insisted.

"That's a very flattering gesture, sir, but I don't have anything presentable to wear." Christa said shyly.

"Yeah, how do you expect us to show up to a bourgeois dinner while we look like peasants?" The freckled girl asked sardonically.

"We'll work something out. I'm sure Hange can lend you something to wear." Petra offered.

"What do you think, Ymir?" Christa asked her taller friend.

Ymir pondered for a moment, before smirking, "Actually, I think we could trade in just one evening of rags-to-riches over rat infested fine dining."

"It is settled, then," Erwin said with a gentle smile. "Tomorrow, I shall send a steward to bring you both to First-Class at 5:00 p.m. to have you dressed for dinner, which will begin at 7:00."

Christa nodded happily, "I guess it's a date."

"Sleep well, you two." The Colonel said as he bid the two Steerage girls farewell. Armin, Mikasa, Petra and Oruo followed suit as they headed to their respective accommodations.

Christa and Ymir both headed towards the starboard stairs as the short girl spoke up to her taller friend, "Did you have Miss Petra's purse the whole time?"

Ymir shrugged, "Yeah, but there wasn't anything valuable in it anyway."

"If you say so…" Christa said with uncertainty.

Eren was about to leave the Poop Deck when Levi stopped him, "Jaeger, tend to my cabin before I head to bed. I may be out here a little longer."

"Yes, sir." Eren replied obediently as he made his way down to the Aft Well Deck.

Levi, Eld and Gunther were the few remaining people on the Poop Deck; the Lance Corporal walked over to where Petra's pen knife was left astray on the deck. He picks it up by the handle with a handkerchief as the blood of the attacker dripped from the blade.

"This conspiracy is getting out of hand." Levi said with a grave urgency.

"I'm still suspicious of that Ymir kid. This could be even more elaborate than we thought." Gunther surmised.

"Whatever the case may be, if we don't get to New York at this rate, they may succeed before we stop them." Eld informed.

"As long as we don't make any missteps, our plan will work." Levi stated as he wraps the knife in the handkerchief and stows it in his coat pocket.

Preceding events aside, RMS Titanic still steams ahead towards the following day.