Chapter 7. Out On The Tiles

A/N: Firstly, thank you all for the amazing comments, messages, and overall love you've given me and this fic, whether if it's here, or on Tumblr. I can't tell you how much I appreciate all the support and feedback!
Apologies for keeping you waiting, especially after a cliffhanger chapter. Hopefully some questions will be answered here.

"Who knows about this?"

Hanji swallowed deeply, squaring her shoulders against the peridot gaze of Erwin Smith. "You, me, and Arlert." She held up a finger, remembering. "And the courier, Efran."

The commander nodded, thick brows drawn together as he mulled over something in his mind. "It needs to stay that way."

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me about your theory." He gestured to the vacant chair before his desk. She took it.

"I believe that Mikasa and the captain managed to form some sort of...mental connection. They've both talked about feeling an inexplicable surge of power at some point in their lives, something that was triggered under extreme circumstances and unlike anything they'd felt before."

Erwin arched a full brow. Then he nodded. "Yes, I remember. The way they described it, that strength, it always reminded me of how Eren would describe feeling in Titan form. Especially during the transformation. You think this power is somehow…"

He trailed off, the question there, and Hanji was already grinning. "Yes, I believe it's connecting them. Here's another theory: the initial power surge they felt was just an awakening of sorts. An on switch, if you will. It's no mystery why they are humanity's strongest soldiers."

The commander's lips quirked into a ghost of a smile. It was gone as soon as it came, and when he spoke his voice was low, contemplative. "To continue with your theory, if the initial rush of power was like an on switch, then what Mikasa described in the cave was a bridge. A passage forged between them."

Oh, she loved metaphors. She gripped the arms of her chair, desperately wanting to pace the room as she processed the information. "I wish we had more time to study the phenomenon, study how it's possible for Mikasa to essentially transport herself to where the captain is, and find out if it would work the other way around." She leaned back into the chair, sighing heavily. "But I suppose we need to put science aside for the moment and just accept what we know, because right now it's our only tether to Levi. Our only hope of rescuing him."

Erwin flicked his gaze back to her, a pointed look—it was easier said than done, and no doubt he was feeling that same panic she felt in her own gut. "That is assuming they can bridge that connection a second time. It's already been three days. "

"I know ," Hanji replied, unable to keep the irritation from her tone. "I'll be giving her a sleeping draught later. My thought was that the connection could be made when she's unconscious. Triggered, somehow. That's what happened the first time when Efran brought her to HQ, so it's worth exploring."

"What if it doesn't work? You said yourself that this is our only connection to Levi. What if we've lost that connection?"

Of course, she had already asked herself these questions. Multiple times. They kept her up at night. "Then we'll try something else, and we'll keep trying until it works."

A sigh, and then Erwin Smith stood. She followed suit, knowing that was the signal for meeting adjourned. He walked her to the door, but paused before opening it. "I want this to stay between those who know."

"I heard. And it will."

He nodded but didn't open the door, another thought on his tongue. Hanji waited, observing the tension in his brows, his shoulders. "One other thing."

"Sir?"

"Jaeger doesn't need to know."

Armin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, by now completely past attempting to hide his irritation. "Which part is confusing, Eren?"

"Well, why should I wait to tell her? Look, I'm not saying we wake her up right now, but I have to talk to her eventually."

Armin looked away from the Titan-shifter and down at the sleeping form of their friend. Mikasa had been through so much the past few days, and he was loathe to do anything to add to her burden. She already had enough to deal with as it were with Hanji's...experiments. "I just think the news can wait. She's under a lot of pressure right now."

Eren shook his head. "Things have changed with Mikasa. She knows about my relationship with Rubie. We had that big, long talk about things, remember? And she practically gave me her blessing." He placed his tanned hand over Mikasa's small, pale one. "I wasn't going to make a big deal of it. I just feel she deserves to be one of the first to know."

Armin studied the man beside him, his childhood friend, and a pain flared in his chest. It felt like guilt, tasted like regret.

"Just…give it a little bit," he muttered, and then added before Eren could get upset, "I want you to tell her, too. I'm…happy for you."

And he was, but he had to work to keep that bitter pain from seeping into his voice. Eren seemed convinced, and turned to flash him one of those crooked smiles. Not for the first time Armin considered how painful this must have been for Mikasa to walk away from.

"Alright, Armin. I trust your judgment more than anyone's."

The compliment shouldn't have affected him as much as it did—this pain in his chest was a common occurrence these days. Armin placed a tentative hand upon his friend's shoulder, feeling the feverish heat of the man's skin through his thin shirt. Eren sighed and leaned into the touch, seeming to relax now that he had contact with two of his most important people.

"When does Rubie return?" The question hurt to ask, but he was desperate to alleviate the depressing mood that had clouded above them. It worked, as Eren visibly perked up, smiling softly.

"In a few days. Maybe things will be better then. I suppose I can wait until she gets back to tell Mikasa."

Armin found he preferred the mounting anxiety from a moment ago to this bitter coiling in his belly. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"I'm sorry, I'm probably keeping you," Eren said, misinterpreting his friend's despondent tone. He gently released Mikasa's hand and stood from his chair before nodding at the small pile of papers and a notebook resting next to her feet. "I'll let you get back to your work."

He would have corrected the misunderstanding, insisted his friend stay, but the coil wound tighter and he merely nodded. "Thanks, Eren. I'll let you know when she wakes."

Eren rubbed the back of his neck, observing Mikasa's sleeping form one more time before making to leave. "Oh," he added, stopping abruptly. "When she does wake up, don't forget to give her that." He gestured at the length of red hanging off the back of the chair he'd just vacated. Armin nodded, and Eren offered him a strained smile. Then he left. The feeling of dread didn't go with him.

Armin plucked at a loose thread in the bedding, worrying his upper lip between his teeth. Things had changed between them, become more tense. At first he thought it was a distancing of sorts and attributed it to Eren's new relationship. But even then it was hard to shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between them.

Lying certainly didn't help. But for all Eren's hot-headed tendencies, he was no dimwit, and keeping him in the dark had taken a very well planned story. Still, it just felt so fundamentally wrong lying to his best friend. The reason behind Erwin's decision was convoluted, but Armin had the suspicion it had nothing to do with trust or a lack thereof.

Hot-headed .

A pained smile crossed Armin's mouth. He looked up at the scarf draped across the chair, and the guilt clamped down on his heart once more. He just wanted one thing to go right. Just one thing. Just one day where someone didn't die, or the answers weren't so damn elusive, or that Eren—

"When's the wedding?"

Armin nearly toppled from his chair. "Mikasa!" He stood abruptly, looking down at her smirking face in surprise. How long had she been awake? He stammered for a moment, grappling for the right words, some excuse he could cobble together. She only gave him that look; he had never been particularly good at lying, especially to her. "How much did you hear?"

She rubbed at her eyes with careful fingers, avoiding the scuffs and bruises still mottling her pale face, before sitting upright in the narrow bed. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop—sit down Armin—I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I woke up right in the middle of it. I didn't want to make it uncomfortable, so I played dead." She appeared contrite, giving him a meek smile.

"So you're not...upset about this?"

The smile faded from her face and she averted her gaze. There was still some pain there. "Upset, no. Eren's right, we made our peace a while ago. I guess it's a little bittersweet, if you know what I mean."

The coiling again. "Yeah, I do."

She held his gaze, onyx gaze warm and oh so observant, and his breath faltered as he wondered just how much was written on his face. He found himself racking his brain for another excuse, another reason.

"I'm sorry, Armin," she breathed, eyes filling with emotion.

Oh Maria, she knew? Could she see right through him?

"Mikasa, I—"

"I thought for sure your theory would work. It seemed so sound." She closed her eyes, dismay etching itself onto her features. "I didn't see Heichou."

The simultaneous relief and disappointment he felt was an odd sensation, and a strange, breathy chuckle escaped his chewed lips. Mikasa, eyes still closed, mistook the sound for one of exasperation.

"I'm utterly useless. It's like I just took a nap. I'm so sorr—"

"Hey, hey, Mikasa." He rose from his chair once more and took her shoulders. "Look at me, it's ok. Nothing about this is your fault." He reached across the bed and pulled the scarf from Eren's chair. "Eren brought this for you. Although, you probably already knew that."

Mikasa smiled and held the fabric to her chest, fingers fondling the material. "It's been forever since I've worn this."

Armin didn't need to ask why. He too had given up tokens of the past.

"How is Efran?" she inquired suddenly, jarring him from his darkening thoughts.

Armin hadn't seen much of the large man except for when he made visits to check in on Mikasa. It was obvious that the two had formed a friendship while in the Underground—Mikasa hated being cooped up during her recovery, but the burly man always seemed to come prepared with the right word to brighten her mood. That alone eased any wariness Armin had about the tattooed man. "He seems well. Came to see you about an hour ago when you really were asleep."

Mikasa chuckled and nodded, once again looking mildly contrite. "He's a good man, Efran."

"He seems honorable." Armin grimaced despite himself, "and maybe a little…"

"Intimidating?"

"A lot intimidating." Mikasa laughed louder this time, and Armin found he had missed the sound. "I can't imagine what it would have been like to see all three of you together. Those Redeemers must have a death wish."

Mikasa's smile slowly faded and a furrow of worry creased itself into her brow. She looked at Armin and he could see his own fears mirrored back at him. He squeezed her hand in reassurance. We'll get him back.

"There's something else I should tell you, Mikasa. Something I know you didn't hear." Something she probably wouldn't like to hear.

She must have heard the hesitation in his voice because her face immediately slipped behind an inscrutable mask—the one he'd seen her don a multitude of times. Her battle armor.

At that moment Armin wished he had some armor of his own. "We're having a funeral for Heichou."

She actually laughed, a choking burst of sound, and she regarded him like he'd just told the world's worst joke. When she saw he was serious her smile evaporated. "What do you mean a funeral? Why would there be a funeral? He's not dead."

Seeing the lethal flare in her eyes made him realize why Hanji had been hesitant to deliver this news herself: Mikasa was terrifying. Nothing he didn't already know, of course. She possessed a kind of silent anger, like a gathering storm, almost more intense than if she had shouted and raged.

Armin held his ground. "No, no, I know that. When Erwin first told me I had a similar reaction, but if you think about his reasoning he has a point." She was relaxing at this point, but her gaze didn't lose its edge.

"And that would be?"

"The only reason we know about Captain Levi's survival is through you and this connection you two have." He could see the understanding dawn on her bruised face. "The Redeemers have eyes within the walls, that much we know. Captain Levi was...is labeled humanity's strongest soldier, therefore it would make sense that we would honor him and mourn his loss. If we don't, what does that say?"

Mikasa was already nodding, but he pressed on.

"We need to proceed as if we still think he died. As it is, only a few of us know about his survival and your mental connection with him." He paused then, the ramifications of Erwin's plan finally sinking heavy onto his shoulders. "Actually, the hardest part is going to be keeping this from all the others."

Mikasa considered his statement for a moment, fingers twisting the scarf in her lap. "Do you mean...Jean, Sasha...everyone thinks Heichou is…" Her words trailed off into a breathy whisper.

"The only people who know besides you and me are Efran, Hanji, and Commander Smith." He didn't need to elaborate, didn't need to tell her it must stay that way.

"I don't like lying to our friends. Especially about this. They'll think we didn't trust them, and that we just watched them grieve and suffer when we could have told them the truth." She wasn't pushing back anymore, just voicing the pain they were both feeling.

Armin dug his nails into his palm, speaking the remainder of Erwin's edict in a rush. "Eren can't know."

If she was fearsome before, this was something else. She held his gaze for a few beats, and it was like she was stripping away every fabric and facade with her eyes alone, searching for the true meaning, the trick. "About?" she enunciated, voice low.

"Any of it."

"Why."

Armin dragged a hand down his face. I don't know wouldn't suffice. But he didn't have a clear answer. "Look, I don't know every one of the commander's reasons, but I do know that this thing between you and the captain, this... connection... it could incite a similar reaction in people to Eren's Titan ability. For the time being, Erwin wants to keep this between as few people as possible. Just until we have more information."

A look of exasperation crossed Mikasa's face, her eyes going to the ceiling. "And, what, you think Eren can't keep a fucking secret? He's not a child."

Armin held up his own hand, fighting to keep his own frustration at bay. "I never said that." He took a breath. "Eren't important. Not to put too fine a point on it, but he's indispensable. Think about it. Keeping him in the dark might just be his best bet should all this go to hell. Granted, I don't know what that would look like, but obviously Erwin has a reason for this, and I strongly think she should trust him."

The look of unrest on Mikasa's face, the disbelief in her eyes, made that guilt twist ever tighter in his chest. He could see how much she wanted to push back, but she kept her argument to herself. "I don't like this," was all she said.

"You think I do?" He shut his eyes, regretting the harshness of his tone. When he opened them again, she was watching him with a doleful expression. "Sometimes the truth can get you killed," he murmured.

Mikasa covered her face with her hands and breathed against her palms, letting out an agitated sigh that whistled through her fingers. "I can almost see the connection," she mumbled absently, hands still on her face. "I can feel it buzzing in the back of my head, but the harder I try to reach for it the farther it slips away."

Armin perked up. This was new. He was reminded of Hanji's metaphor with the bridge, one which helped him to visualize what Mikasa must be experiencing—but the buzzing? Armin rose from his chair, reaching for the notebook resting at the foot of the bed. "Don't beat yourself up, Mikasa. You've been through so much. I feel terrible putting you through all these tests when really you should be resting."

His pencil had fallen between the mattress and the footboard, and he didn't even bother trying to fish it out, opting to get another one from Hanji's desk.

"Don't feel bad, Armin. I want to help in any way I can. I'm just frustrated that I can't make things work," she said. His back was to her, but he could tell by the clarity of her voice that she'd removed her hands from her face.

"I'm just looking for a pencil. I want to write down what you just described—the buzzing sensation in your head." He tucked his notebook under his arm so he could rifle through the desk drawers with both hands.

No pencil. Armin huffed in aggravation and began to dig through Hanji's explosion of papers—the woman seriously needed to organize her workstation—searching for some kind of writing implement.

"Does the buzzing hurt? Is it like a headache? Aha!" Finally, a pencil—which had been sharpened down to about the length of his thumb—revealed itself from under a sketch of Sawney and Bean. "I'll just record all your symptoms for later reference. They might be useful in better understanding—oh sweet Maria!"

Armin nearly dropped his notes and newly found pencil when he turned back to face Mikasa. She was still sitting up in the bed, her back ramrod straight, hands tangled in the scarf. But her eyes were what disturbed him.

Gone were her irises, her pupils, her gaze just two, glassy-white orbs staring at some indiscernible point.

"M-Mikasa?" Armin squeaked, etching closer to the bed. She didn't move, didn't seem to respond to his prompting. She was still breathing, her stomach moving in calm waves. Aside from her upright position and her milky gaze, it was almost like she was asleep.

Armin took one last look at his despondent friend before opening his notebook, weak excuse for a pencil poised and ready to write. And Armin did what he did best—he studied.

Levi had his back to her. His bare back. It was dark, almost too dark, but she could see the muscles of his broad shoulders and the curve of his spine, could see the dirt and grime covering his flesh. Mikasa couldn't remember the captain ever being so filthy.

They were in a different location from the last time she'd seen him. Gone was the chain on the wall, the lantern. This space appeared more like a small cell—a dugout in the earthen wall of the Underground with a crude grate across the front to act as a door. It was small, and despite Levi's compact stature she doubted even he'd be able to lie down completely in the cramped space.

He visibly tensed, though she hadn't made a sound—hadn't even breathed—and turned to look at her, his face partially hidden in the gloom. "About fucking time you showed up."

His eyes flickered down her person, and she realized she still clutched the scarf to her chest. "It worked," she breathed, reaching out to touch his shoulder, the one she'd set. It was difficult to tell in this light, but she thought she could make out the outline of a nasty bruise.

"What worked?" He grasped her wrist before her fingers met his skin, making her startle. His sight was apparently more adjusted to the gloom than hers. "Mikasa, do you know what the hell is going on? One minute you were right in front of me and then you just disappeared into thin air and I don't see you for three fucking days. "

Mikasa jerked her hand away, annoyed by his tone. It wasn't her fault. "And I'm sorry about that. I'm just as confused as you. Hanji and Armin have put their heads together, but figuring out this connection we have and how to initiate it has proven to be rather difficult."

Levi exhaled deeply and leaned his forehead against the grate, eyes closing as he relaxed into the cold metal. Even with his back to her she could see how exhausted he was. Some of his injuries had begun to heal a little, but she could have sworn there were fresh ones.

"Why are you…" She didn't know which question to ask first—in truth, he looked terrible.

"Shirtless?" he drawled, and Mikasa felt her face heat up involuntarily. It wasn't like she'd never seen him without his shirt before, and she certainly was no blushing virgin...

She pushed that convoluted train of thought aside, settling for another acerbic reply. "No, why are you so...unclean?"

He quite visibly flinched, but didn't reply. Not that she'd expected him to be living a life of luxury, given the circumstances, but it was obvious that he was freshly dirtied and she found that odd. His pants were dusty, darkened in places by what she could only assume was blood, and his hair was lank and messy. He smelled like dirt and sweat and gore. Had he been fighting?

Mikasa felt a rage flare up in her chest, not just for him but for the conditions he was kept in; as much as Mikasa hated being filthy, she could only imagine how her fastidious captain was feeling.

"We got cut off before we could really talk last time." His voice was softer, the edge dulled. "I'm assuming Efran made it out in one piece?" Despite his phrasing, Mikasa knew better than to assume he thought so little of the tattooed man.

"Efran is well. He saved my life." She proceeded to tell him about the events that had occured after their last meeting when she'd set his shoulder. He kept his head pressed to the grate, unresponsive, but she could tell he was listening intently. His shoulders had relaxed, but his knuckles were pale as he gripped the metal bars, and she realized then just how uncomfortable he was.

He looked like he wanted to claw out of his own skin. So she kept talking, refraining from placing her hand on his shoulder again and inspecting the injury, knowing the last thing he probably wanted was another layer of something covering him.

"There haven't been anymore missing kids, thankfully. Although, the main focus has been on getting you back. I don't know why the connection between us was lost that night, and I have absolutely no idea why I am able to connect with you again now. Hanji's tried everything from meditation to sleep drugs to making me stand on my head, but nothing seemed to work."

Levi emitted a puff of air which sounded a bit like a laugh. She grimaced, remembering Hanji's idea of hanging off the side of her bed until she nearly passed out—the crazed excitement in the scientist's eyes as she developed new ways to potentially trigger the "bonding," as she'd called it, only added to Mikasa's anxiety.

"Armin described what happened to us in the cave as a kind of bridging between our minds. He doesn't know why it happened, but it seems to be related to the surge of power we'd both experienced at one point in our lives." She glanced around the small enclosure, at the earth floor—it really was like a pen for an animal—finally giving up and sitting down in the dirt with her back against the grate.

"She can't know about this," Levi muttered suddenly, mostly to himself. Before Mikasa could question what he meant, he was crouching down to her level. His features were vague in the dark, though his face was close to hers. "Listen to me. There's this woman, they call her Red Mother, she's the one running this whole shitshow."

"The Redeemers? She's their leader?"

Levi nodded once, gray eyes catching in the dim light. "Yes, she's fucking insane. Got this whole salvific-vengeance agenda she's pushing, and her followers just eat it up. Believes she's some sort of vigilante, righting the wrongs committed against the little people and all that shit." She could make out the movement of his hand as he gestured through the air. "My point is that despite all her voodoo, she knows something about us, about the Ackerman bloodline. She kept referring to our enhanced abilities, saying that the Ackermans used to be one of the most powerful clans, invaluable to the crown."

Mikasa had to cut in then. "How does she know all this?" Levi barely let her finish, the information bursting out of him almost faster than he could speak. She'd never heard him so animated before.

"I planned on telling you this the first night you appeared because I knew it was valuable, but now I can see it's critical. Especially if you evaporate again, you need to hear it." He stood then. "It all makes sense. Or, at least it's starting to."

Levi peered through the metal bars, surveying the area outside the cell before returning his attention to her, voice even lower than before.

"You asked why I'm so filthy." He spread his arms akimbo, as if presenting himself to her, his form much more visible now that her eyes had adjusted somewhat to the shadows. "Every night they drag me out of this shitty cell and throw me into a ring. It's like some fucked up cock fight, betting and everything." He angled his face in such a way that the pale light hit his features as he cast another glance outside. Mikasa couldn't help but gasp as she saw the purple and black marking his left eye.

He turned at her outburst and she could also see the dried blood on his nose. Mikasa's stomach dropped and she clambered to her feet, unable to keep the mortification from her voice. "Oh, Levi…" Once she'd seen the injuries they were impossible not to notice, and it startled her how she'd ever missed them.

He looked away from her again, clearly uncomfortable by her display of emotion. "Settle down, it's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" she all but shrieked, ignoring any compunction she felt for his comfort and getting right in his face. "So, what, they're making you fight?"

He angled his head against the light again and flashed her a hawkish grin devoid of humor. The almost malicious expression coupled with his battered face made him look oddly attractive. "That red woman fancies me her champion of sorts. Wants to see how many of her guys I can knock down in the span of thirty minutes."

Levi looked at his hands then, rough and bloodied, turning them over to inspect the knuckles. "My point is she views me as a weapon." His eyes flicked back to hers, gaze filtering through his mess of dark fringe. "She knows something about the Ackerman bloodline—the clan, she called it—and I think she wants to use this...this power we have."

Mikasa clutched her scarf tighter, the flicker of an old comfort stirring in her chest. "If she found out there was another Ackerman…" She didn't need to finish the sentence, the implication clear; whatever this Red Woman had planned, she would be that much harder to stop with two of humanity's strongest soldiers in her possession. "There will be a funeral for you."

No preamble, just direct to the point. For his part, Levi remained unphased, merely nodding.

"Makes sense," he muttered, and then, "how many people know?"

"That you aren't dead? Besides Hanji and Armin, there's Erwin, of course, and Efran." Mikasa had begun fingering the scarf again, twisting it over her fingers but still not wrapping it around her neck. "Eren doesn't know. About any of it."

Levi observed her movements, seeming to only then register the red material she was holding. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

There was something about his statement that made her defensive. His tone hadn't been unfavorable, but that unreadable look in his eyes made her bristle.

He spoke again before she could offer a caustic reply. "Just don't let Erwin wax poetic at the service. I may not really be dead, but it's my fucking funeral and I don't want some drawn out speech. I don't want anyone getting weepy about it."

Mikasa inhaled deeply, throwing her eyes to the heavens. "I'm not really sure I have any control over what the commander does or doesn't say," and then, because she wasn't really irritated and his last words had troubled her, "and even if he said nothing I don't think there'd be a dry eye there, anyway, Heichou."

Levi gave her a derisive look. "Miss me will they?"

He was being wry, but Mikasa didn't find it amusing. If anything, she felt a twinge of sadness—did he not think people would mourn him?

She opened her mouth to ask him as much, but the sound of heavy footsteps killed the words in their throat. Levi stiffened, all but throwing himself to the grate to see who approached.

Driven by some silent instinct, Mikasa stayed mute and backed herself against the far corner of the cell. The footsteps were accompanied by the metallic clang of keys on a ring, all together making a disturbing kind of rhythm.

Levi whipped around to face her, and she could see the barely contained apprehension in his eyes. "You need to go," he hissed, jerking his thumb in a vague movement as if that was the direction she needed to exit.

"I can't" she breathed, "I don't know how!"

His control was slipping, more of that manic anxiety showing on his face. "Then fucking figure it out, Ackerman. The jailor catches you here and we're screwed."

Said jailor began whistling to the beat of his keys—a jaunty, tuneless ditty that made Mikasa's pulse spike. She had to get out of here.

She shut her eyes, hoping in vain to somehow trigger the connection again—or end it? She couldn't tell if this was like trying to fall asleep on command or wake from a nightmare. It was too hot in the close cell, too many distractions. She sank to her knees with a soft thud, curling into herself in an attempt to shut out the noise of those keys.

"I can still see you plain as day, cadet," Levi rasped. She bared her teeth in frustration but kept her eyes shut.

"It's lieutenant now, and I'm trying. " As much as she tried to focus on the buzzing at the back of her head, all she could hear was the jangle of the guard approaching and Levi's agitated breath. "Yelling at me doesn't help."

With a rough yank on her bicep, Levi hauled her to standing. "Too late anyway, brat," he growled.

Mikasa watched the growing shadow of the jailor—he was close enough now that she could hear the fabric of his clothes as he walked.

Levi, face grim and eyes forward, adopted a stance she'd seen him use many times over. He spoke without looking away from the encroaching shadow. "We're gonna have to fight, Mikasa."

A/N: Tl;dr—The Ackermans have an Ackerconnection because of Ackerpowers (Kudos to all you ppl that figured it out!), Eren is kept in the dark as ordered by Erwin, and Armin struggles with his guilt over it.
See, now, this is the kind of shit that happens when I start rereading older SnK chapters after watching Star Wars. AckerForce Bonds commence.
Dialogue scenes aren't my forte (or my favorite to write), but it's good practice for me and I felt some things needed to be elaborated on. Hopefully it didn't sound too wooden, but let me know if it did. Otherwise, more action and Rivamika goodness in the next one :)