Chapter 27: Discord

The entire Scout Regiment was gathered in the mess hall. Their commander, flanked by Yelena and Onyankopon, was standing at one end of the room, overlooking the five long rows of tables, all of them occupied. In moments like this, Nora was taken aback by the Survey Corps' size. New recruits were still trickling in at a steady pace, and since Paradis hadn't seen a battle since the Battle, their numbers only grew without taking a hit. The regiment was the largest it had ever been by far. To put it bluntly, the Survey Corps was the shit; now that everyone knew what waited for them outside—the good and the bad—and who the real enemy was, people were still scared, yes. But for the first time ever, they also had reason to be hopeful, idealistic, determined. And the most hopeful, idealistic, and determined of the bunch became soldiers and joined the Scouts.

In addition, there was the triumph in the Battle of Shiganshina, which—as much as it had cost—gained them the Colossal Titan. Praised in the newspaper as their "greatest weapon". No pressure, though, Nora thought. How outside of the Survey Corps and the military government still no one knew the Colossal's identity was beyond her; she was sure the secret had to get out eventually, sooner rather than later—if it hadn't already and it just hadn't come to their attention yet. Her name in the newspapers would be one thing—uncomfortable, but then she luckily didn't spend that much time in town—but all the Marleyans on Paradis knowing what she was might be a different story.

Eren, on the other hand, was arguably one of the most famous and wanted people in the whole world. If not the most wanted. The journalists of the Walls called him their "greatest hope". Nora grimaced, remembering she had once said that to him, as well. The alias left a really bad taste now that he was somewhere out there, so far out of their reach, surrounded by enemies wherever he was.

Greatest hope, my arse. If their greatest hope was gone, what the hell did they have left?

And now her thoughts were just as sinister as various newspaper articles ever since Eren's disappearance. Not exactly productive, and she didn't want to be a burden on Levi by turning into a depressed mess hiding in bed. Again.

She wondered how he did it, ignoring all the stares because pretty much everyone on this blasted island knew who he was, and reading articles that mentioned "Humanity's Strongest" with a straight face. And the title—truth that it was—appeared more often than his actual name, was whispered in the streets. Did it annoy him, if only mildly, or did he really not care? Probably the first, but Nora had never asked.

Once it came out who the "greatest weapon" was, she knew it would annoy—or rather unsettle—her. Undoubtedly, she shouldn't get used to her relative anonymity, just as she shouldn't get used to the record number of Survey Corps soldiers, all alive and well.

As always, as for everything, two words wore down her mind, impossible to forget even for a day, and these two words—an indisputable truth—were the reason she was no optimist.

For now.

The buzz of conversation in the crowded hall died down as Hange loudly cleared her throat, straightening her back, getting ready to talk.

"There was another Battle in Fort Brava," she announced.

Nora's heart dropped like a stone. One look at her friend's face together with her tone of voice was enough to know. Next to Nora, Levi gave a curt nod. He had clearly come to the same conclusion.

Jean, however, had not. "Did they—"

"They won," Nora said, drawing the attention of all her comrades. She immediately regretted having answered in Hange's stead.

"How?" Armin asked, eyes wide. "They were struggling, were they not? Their forces decimated, only four shifters left, and the Mid East's weapons—"

"Apparently, four shifters were enough," Hange said.

Nora's thoughts immediately went to the Warhammer, Marley's newest addition. Powerful, indeed. At least in that regard, Zeke had told them the truth. The Mid East's cannons probably didn't stand a chance.

Floch rose from his seat, casting his eyes around the room, self-assured and determined. "This is nothing but a minor setback. Eren is still out there, and as soon as we hear from him, we should act on his word." His voice rang through the hall, sure to reach not only the Special Ops Squad several tables over, but every last corner.

He sounded like he owned the Survey Corps. Last time I checked, you weren't the commander. Nora bit back the comment. The last thing they needed right now was to escalate the situation. Picking a fight with him in front of everyone would only worsen the already low morale upon hearing this news. Or worse, create a divide in the regiment.

Unfortunately, Connie did not have the same foresight, alarmed as he clearly was. "Well, if Eren dies or gets caught, we're finished."

"At least he's out there doing something," Floch replied. "If someone could win us this war, it's him." Across the room, several heads nodded in assent, and some gave a murmur of approval. The rest looked scared and uncertain.

And then there were Onyankopon and Yelena. While the former seemed, as would be expected, uncomfortable, the latter showed no sign of disquiet. Instead, she was watching the little spectacle with nothing other than mild interest, her black eyes attentive.

Shit, the woman was unsettling. It was impossible to say what she was thinking.

Next to Nora, Levi spoke up, his words almost making her flinch. "Provided he hasn't died, already, seeing as he decided to do a solo run."

Floch shook his head. "Unlikely, considering how powerful he is. He is basically invincible. You should know." The last sentence was directed at Nora.

If it hadn't been so pointless, she would have reminded him how the Colossal had fallen into their hands, in the first place. If shifters were so invincible, Bertolt would very much still be alive while all of them would not.

"Invincible, is it?" Perfectly calm, Levi took a sip of his tea before he continued. "Usually, the idiots who think like that are the first ones getting themselves killed."

"The same goes for those who prioritise personal feelings over their duties as a soldier." Floch's eyes were burning with reproach. "Taking others with them in the process."

###

Dead silence fell over the hall.

Levi had to hand it to the shitty brat; he had balls. Must have grown them sometime after the Battle.

Back then, Levi had, to put that shit mildly, lost his cool; right in front of his squad, Hange, and that whiny asshole. So basically, in front of the entire Survey Corps, at the time. They'd seen him at his lowest, when he'd thought Nora dead, and then when he realised she wasn't, that there still was a chance. They'd also seen how he'd behaved afterwards, when he'd pulled her out of her pure titan.

Unfortunately, his actions had spoken for themselves. And the obnoxious redhead clearly hadn't forgotten any of it.

Levi had broken down, and once he'd held her in his arms—unconscious and alive, and who gave a damn about titan marks at that point—his pieces had come back together. Though the cracks remained, as was always the case with broken things that got mended.

Of course, the most profound and inescapable emotions that were tormenting him had to be what leaked through the barriers he maintained without conscious effort. Shielding parts of him not only from others but also from himself. It was simply who he was, how he worked. He could barely remember a time when it had been different. It served him well in most cases.

Nora was and had long since been the only exception; the one thing he couldn't shut away in the back of his head and distance himself from.

Be that as it may, he wouldn't let anyone talk to him like this, especially in front of all his subordinates, and least of all such a contentious fuckwit who had no idea what Nora was capable of. Undermining his and Hange's authority in addition to breeding discord when they needed it least, trying to pit the members of the Survey Corps against each other.

Regardless, Levi had little trouble reining in his anger. The pathetic shitbag wasn't worth it, and it took far more than his blathering to get a real rise out of him. He'd regularly had to deal with the type ever since the Underground.

Leisurely, he finished his tea, put the cup down on the saucer before meeting Floch's eyes. "Talking big for a clueless little wimp who nearly shat himself on the battlefield and survived because of nothing but dumb luck." He was barely raising his voice. It wasn't necessary when you could have heard the drop of a needle in the hall. "I've had it with your impertinence. Either you shut up and accept the decisions of your superiors, or I'll kick your ass out of the regiment."

The one brain cell Floch possessed was enough to wipe the mutinous expression off his face. Almost.

Without another word, he sat his ass back down on the bench.

###

For all Nora could discern, looking at him, Levi was unfazed by the news they'd received, and even by Floch's last comment—which had been unfortunate and highly awkward in that setting, but nothing they hadn't heard from him before. However, he had grown bolder—or stupider, depending on the perspective—bringing it up in front of everyone. From the first sentence he had spoken, all he had done was damage the regiment's bond.

Levi hadn't reacted at all, not a twitch of the smallest facial muscle. Even when putting Floch in his place, in the tried and tested Levi way—crass and scary as ever—he had sounded almost conversational.

Nora knew better than to assume it was the same on the inside, but the fact remained that, as usual, he wasn't nearly as shaken as the rest of them. He always took everything as it came with an amount of logical reasoning and unsparing assessments that bordered on cold-hearted; no matter the news, they never managed to exceed his morbid expectations. Levi was about as often surprised as he cracked a smile.

The instant they were back in their quarters, he ordered her around in his usual concise, gruff manner of speaking, listing five things she had to clean or tidy up, sprinkling in a "sloppy brat" for good measure.

Nora pressed her lips together, stifling the small laugh that wanted to escape. The anxious knot in her chest slowly dissolved.

Really, she had no idea how he did it. Something must be seriously wrong with her.

"You know," she said once Levi was done issuing his commands, "the first time I went with you to your office, I thought for sure you were going to murder me. Only a total psycho would have a room that freakishly clean."

Busy with gathering all necessary cleaning supplies from the cupboard, he had his back to her, not bothering to glance over his shoulder. "So that's why you called me an 'insufferable clean freak' by your second day."

Nora started to clear up the desk, as was her usual first step when Levi forced her to participate in one of his cleaning sprees; her half was covered in books and notes, while his side had nothing more than a neat stack of paper on it, and a pen that lay perfectly parallel with the upper edge of the stack. "Really, it's obvious as soon as one has spent more than five minutes with you."

"And it was glaringly obvious by day one that you're an impudent brat with a terrible sense of self-preservation."

"And still, I'm here."

He scoffed. "No thanks to you." She hadn't noticed him sneaking up on her when he spun her around by her wrist, pressing a pristine, white rag into her other hand.

He held onto her for a short instant, fingers clasping her wrist, his eyes an intense, dark grey. For once, even though his words suggested reproach, there was none to find in his tone.

I'm glad you're still here, he seemed to be saying. I will continue trying to protect you.

And his protection extended to the danger her own dark thoughts posed; the present moment was a prime example. Hell, the man managed to cheer her up and distract her with cleaning and sarcasm and insults, with one look and a simple touch.

It came to her then, all at once, knocking the wind out of her as if she'd hit a tree mid-fly.

It wasn't a recent development, far from it. In fact, it had been like this long enough it was difficult to recall when it had started. But it was growing more urgent, violent, uncontrollable. Swelling up inside of her, threatening to spill over. Harder to keep from the forefront of her mind, and even from the tip of her tongue, more and more with each passing day.

She'd known for a long time, no doubt about it, but she'd managed to contain it deep within her, never examining it too closely, because it was final and so powerful it was terrifying, and because it had caused her so much suffering in the past and might cause even worse pain in the future. So a part of her had prevented it to take shape in the form of words. Up until recently; it had all got too much. Levi had got too much.

That word. It felt as if saying it out loud would flail her, leave her raw and unprotected. Even thinking it hurt, snatching away what little control she had left, or rather, the illusion of control, as she had come to realise.

And there were so, so many things she couldn't control.

No wonder she had never, ever said it, not to anyone; not even to her mother, as far as she could remember.

When she told him she'd like to stay with him, or when she drunkenly admitted he was her favourite person, or all the other shit she had blurted out, she didn't have to think about what that meant, ultimately. Not so with that word. It was irrational, but something about it was so dangerous, so dooming, more so than anything else she could say or think.

Yet she couldn't ignore the unadulterated truth any longer, not even for a moment; Levi had seen to it, unwittingly or not. It was a bit like a storm that had slowly been brewing until it got so vicious it rattled doors and windows, threatening to break through the cracks.

She knew the truth, of course she knew, and part of her wanted it out.

But that was how truth became reality, and it was the scariest thing.

Which didn't change anything at all about the fact that she was utterly, madly, hopelessly in love with him, and one of these days, she'd have to tell him. The mere thought of how the hell he might react worsened her panic. In fact, she felt sick now.

Levi had let go of her somewhere during her horrifying contemplation, getting the broom and clarifying in which order she had to work through her tasks. When his cleaning-related commands were met with silence instead of the expected protests and 'neat freak', Levi turned, broom in hand, frowning at her. "What's the matter?" he asked, startling her out of her trance with frightening accuracy. "You look like you're holding back a shit."

So much for frightening accuracy. The worst of Nora's shock and anxiety gave way to a strange mix of indignation and relief. One could always rely on Levi's crudeness.

She glared at him. "Something like that."

#

The grainy black-and-white picture was the first thing that caught Nora's attention. It showed a man, probably in his forties, with a roundish face, dark eyes and hair and slightly darker skin than most Marleyans and Eldians had. Next, she studied the handwritten documents Hange had laid out beside the photograph.

Doctor Hakim Ayad. Immigrated to Marley from the Mid Eastern Allied Forces roughly twenty years ago. Titan scientist in the high-security tract of Liberio's research facility.

Then, a line that said 'night shifts', followed by the designated days.

The info came with a floor plan that had a path drawn and a room marked on it. Below, additional descriptions of the premises; places and numbers of stationed guards, among other things.

And a small note in different handwriting.

Take it or leave it.

Eren's message also came with a letter containing a few more sentences, at least. He was alright and not in danger, was the gist of it. Not a single word on his whereabouts, or what he was doing, or where the hell he got the intel on the research facility and the scientist from.

That intel was the only thing Nora could focus on, anyway, the only thing she could do something about. A rough plan started to take shape in her head. It was self-explanatory, really; it involved a small group of soldiers, nighttime, and the airship Hizuru would provide them with shortly.

"I wanted to show you before anyone else." Hange was watching her face carefully.

Nora looked up, surprised. "Even before Levi?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

With a heavy sigh, Hange said, "Because I can guess what you're going to say."

"Well, it is obvious, isn't it?" In her excitement, Nora pressed her index finger against the papers harder than necessary. "This is what we needed all along. Not only a name but even a sodding floor plan—"

"We have no idea where and how Eren got that information. It could be false, it could be a trap." Hange interlaced her hands tightly, biting her lower lip.

This couldn't really be something Nora had to argue about. With Hange, of all people. No, it would surely be easy enough to make her see. "Yes, it's risky. But it looks valid enough. I don't think Eren would have sent this to us otherwise."

The evident doubt in Hange's expression made it clear that she didn't put the same trust in their rogue shifter. Not anymore. But she couldn't possibly disregard the immense opportunity that had just opened up, right?

"C'mon, Hange. There is so much we still don't know about titan biology. Eldian biology, in general; just think of the Ackerman and Rosenberg lines. This mission, this man—" Nora pointed at the photograph. "—might just be the solution to our problems." When Hange still looked far from convinced, Nora amended, "Okay, some of them." She didn't need to elaborate; they had been through this more than once. In some way or other, the man might be the key to turning the tide in this war, with or without using Zeke. Who knew how many useful—no, vital—things could be learnt from a renowned doctor and titan biologist? Of course, everything about this mission and this person came with its own might be, which seemed to be precisely Hange's problem.

Sure enough, Hange was shaking her head. "I can't endorse something as dangerous as this because of a hunch you have—"

"It's not a hunch, it's an assumption—"

"Semantics." Hange reached across the desk and squeezed Nora's forearm, insistent. "Acting on Eren's whim and doing this by force isn't the way. You know the stakes, and you don't know if we'd get anything out of this; who says the man will talk, if he even knows anything of value, in the first place? He might be a tougher nut to crack than Djel Sannes was." And she gathered the contents of Eren's letter and put them in a drawer, out of Nora's sight. "If we can't do this the diplomatic way, we can't do this at all."

At first, Nora was too stunned to reply. When had the possibility of failure—of sacrifices that were for nought, even—ever stopped the Scouts? When had it ever stopped Hange?

She might be shooting herself in the foot with that one, but it was the only logical next step. "Why don't we ask Levi what he thinks?"

Hange chuckled weakly. "I already know what he'll say, too."

Nora had to think for no longer than two seconds. "He'll likely find a creative way to call me crazy and reprimand me for my, and I quote, 'terrible sense of self-preservation'." She deflated in disappointment at the mere possibility and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "And you win."

"Win," Hange echoed, in a voice Nora couldn't reconcile with the woman opposite her; somewhat desperate, and at the same time almost… disdainful. "I can't ever win, no matter what I decide. But anyway, my point is, you and Levi are two peas in a pod."

Heat shot into Nora's cheeks. "I don't think it's quite like—"

"The man won't disagree with you, Nora."

"What?" In her incredulity, her voice had climbed an octave. "He's done so more times than I can count. We disagree and argue all the time. You are our main witness."

Hange's gaze on her was attentive, unwavering. "Let me rephrase—and I'm not talking about your cute little domestic spats here—has he ever disagreed with you when it didn't immediately concern your safety?"

Nora was silent. Strangely enough, nothing significant came to mind right now, no matter how much she racked her brain.

But that was hardly relevant here. She frowned at Hange. "Either way, I don't understand what you're getting at. If that were true, wouldn't he disagree with me on this, and vehemently so?"

For the first time ever, Hange regarded her with an expression of honest exasperation and impatience. "Have you forgotten how he went through with your shifter training, how he let you try everything you suggested, no matter how much it pained him? And let me tell you; it was even worse than he let on. Again, two peas in a pod: you also did your best to hide just how bad it was. Don't even try to deny it." Nora opened her mouth to say—she didn't know what. Hange continued before she could make up her mind. "But he did it because it was the necessary course of action. He's painfully aware that you are essential to this war, so he goes along with you if you—and in extension, he—think the matter vital for our purpose, our continued existence."

Goes along with you. What the bleeding hell? Yes, Levi absolutely did whatever was necessary, but he didn't just go along, not with anyone; he considered all angles, made his own informed decisions, then followed through. If anything, he followed Hange's—the commander's—orders, and even then he would not be reluctant to share his own opinion and suggestions.

"He doesn't disagree with you a lot, Nora. Not when it really matters, not on something like this," Hange said, indulgent to a point it bordered on invalidating. Nora did not like one bit how it seemed to emphasise the five-year age difference between them. "Your ways of thinking are so similar. More importantly, if you have something to say, he listens. And this is why I can't rely on his opinion on this. Not as a point of view entirely separate from yours, anyway."

The heat spread from Nora's face to her chest, her stomach. She tensed up. "That's—that's not fair. Levi is far too stubborn and analytical to let anyone influence—"

"I'll tell you what's not fair," Hange interrupted harshly, several notches too loud, "you two dying on me in a highly risky undertaking that might not even do us any good, and leaving me behind to deal with this goddamned mess alone." As if her outburst hadn't been enough, her anger was evident in the sharp glint in her eye, the thin and tense line of her lips.

This whole situation felt distinctly unreal. Nora was fighting with Hange. Hange was fighting with her. Her best friend, her perpetually good-natured best friend, had snapped at her—and it was ridiculous how much it stung.

Nora's anger did not feel unreal. Her pulse was pounding loudly in her ear. When she spoke, her tone was flat and curt, barely restrained. "So, that's it? We'll avoid anything that's risky and just sit around and hope for the best?"

Hange twitched in her seat. Her face had taken on a sickly, yellowish colour, visible even beneath the warm, inviting ceiling light.

"That's not how it is at all," she said, her features stiff.

"But we won't do anything with the information Eren sent us?"

"Not without a better reason. Not without some sort of guarantee that it would be worth it."

Nora was on her feet in before making the conscious decision to stand up, her chair scraping over the wooden floor. In stark contrast, her voice was quiet, shaking in anger and disappointment. "I think I'm beginning to understand why he left."

She turned on her heel and was out of the office before Hange could answer.

AN: Can't believe how far we've already come. There are things coming up, and the prospect of writing them terrifies me. But that's also a good thing, kind of, because the parts I'm really itching to write often happen to be those that terrify me the most. So, yeah, I'm itching.