The tent was quiet. Illuminated by flickering candles, Captain Levi's shadow danced across the canvas wall, contrasting his composed demeanor. His long fingers grazed the map, dark eyes lingering on the breach in the Scout Regiment's defenses.

Captain Levi didn't get nervous. Nerves were nothing but an obstacle to a clear-head—a means of making a mistake. And tomorrow, on their attack, there would be no mistakes. So why did the chill of nerves prick his mind?

Karma.

He'd been such a fool. He'd risked the mission for the life of one soldier. One pathetically skilled and lackluster soldier, eager to obey her captain's every order. One naive, girlish soldier he couldn't help but defend when the moment came.

Had it been any other soldier, would he have compromised his position? Swooped in front of the raging Titan to snatch her out of harm's way, pressing her safely against his chest? Would he have lingered his grasp on the soft shape of her waist longer than was necessary, feeling a rush of euphoria for saving her measly life?

Just to be safe, he had to send her back to the walls, which meant a slight gap in the regiment's formation. But it was worth the risk if it meant shaking these nerves, wasn't it?

"Captain Levi." An eager soldier entered, fist clasped to his breast. His blue eyes were bright and alert.

"Yes, Armin?" Levi's voice was calm, concealing the tide of his raging thoughts. Any sign of emotion from a captain could be perceived as weakness, thus the Scouts depended on Captain Levi to keep his cool. He steepled his fingers and waited for a response.

"Karma was just informed that she would be returning to the walls. Before we escort her, she would like to have a word." Armin seemed nervous, as though he knew Captain Levi would disapprove of the request. Which was a correct assumption.

"Absolutely not. She is a danger to the mission and must be escorted immediately. There is no room for argument," Levi said. He'd made up his mind. It was for the good of the regiment.

"But sir—"

"You are dismissed, Armin."

With that, the soldier signaled his respect and exited the tent. Captain Levi exhaled and returned his focus to the map, rearranging the troops to fill Karma's gap. This was the right call. She would be out of his sight and he could finally focus on the mission—

"Captain?" A small soldier with blond hair neatly twisted in double buns stood at the entrance, arm pressed against her breast in the familiar solute. Levi jolted at the sound of her voice. Karma's voice.

You're not supposed to be here! Dammit, Armin!

On the surface, he steeled his composure, returning to the strategy map on the desk. But inside, his heart danced with the flicker of the candlelight.

"You should be halfway to Wall Rose as we speak," he said.

"Am I really a danger to the mission?" Her amber eyes studied a crate on the floor.

"My decision is final, Karma." He didn't look up. Her crushing disappointment or endearing defiance might waver his resolve.

"I can still be helpful. I know I was in danger today but maybe—"

"No." This time, he did meet her eyes. He cemented his cold expression. She shrinked back a half step, lips tight.

Expecting that to be the end of the discussion, Levi pretended to study the map again, all the while listening for the whoosh of the closing canvas flap so he could exhale.

But the sound didn't come.

He looked up—Karma had taken a defiant step forward. Her hand was still pressed tightly against her chest as though it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Closer, he could see shadows caress her supple cheeks and the attractive curve of her brow. His stunned silence was misinterpreted as an opportunity to refute:

"Just one more chance," she said. "Tomorrow, if I am killed, you won't need to worry about me anymore. I won't put the mission in danger, I promise. Let me defend my home." He hadn't expected an argument. But he wouldn't allow one. Even an admirable one.

"Karma." He relished the feel of her name on his lips. "I made a mistake today that could have cost lives—hundreds of lives. I forfeited the mission to save you. Don't make this difficult. Just thank me and move on. If you continue to defy your captain's orders, you may be relocated to the Military Police—"

"No, you can't!" Karma rushed forward and thrust her hands onto his desk, inches from his. A finger twitched toward hers, so he fisted his hands, glad that the action made him appear more in control.

"Then I suggest you return to Armin immediately. You're dismissed from tomorrow's mission."

"But what about the next one? At some point I'll be back on the battlefield, facing the enemy. You can't keep me away forever."

Levi swallowed. She was right. Sending her back to the walls was only a temporary solution.

"Then the Military Police might be our best course of action."

As an MP, defending the likes of cushy capital citizens at the innermost wall, she was sure to be permanently out of combat. Out of danger. He could focus on his work without fearing that at any moment he might lose her—he could never let what happened to Isabel and Farlan happen to Karma. He refused to go through that again.

"But why? Don't I deserve to know that, at the very least?" she said.

Why? That was a good question. When the Titan barreled toward her, why couldn't he stand to let it have her? Why did he act on his impulse to save this soldier? He had seen many fall. Had allowed many to fall. Never before had he lost focus and forfeited his position. Never before, in the heat of battle, did his desire to save outweigh his thirst to kill.

"I…" He couldn't put it into words. He wasn't sure he understood it himself.

"You don't need to save me. It's not fair to the countless soldiers who have already sacrificed their lives. If it's my turn to die, let me have it." Karma was hovering halfway above the desk. Sitting beneath her, she looked strong. Powerful. Fierce. She was determined to do her duty, to kill any beast that came her way. And yet…

"I can't," he said, shocked at the tremor in his voice.

"You can't what?" Karma said, equally as shocked. The fierceness in her honey-colored eyes died. She looked vulnerable. Captain Levi fought the urge to touch her cheek, to protect her. To defend her against the hurt he was causing.

"I can't let you die."

He rose to his feet, hoping the power in his stature could mask the fragility of his confession. From this vantage point, he imagined her settling into his arms, the crown of her head brushing his nose. Safe and secure.

"But, Captain." She looked down, cheeks turning to roses. "We lost so many lives today. What's one more?" He slipped his hands into his pockets.

"You're right," he said. "Your life is meaningless. You provide no power to the mission. If you come tomorrow, you'd be nothing more than Titan fodder."

"You wouldn't have saved me if you believed that."

Levi rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. Your life is valuable."

"Good! Then let me fight." She stomped her foot, hands balled at her sides. All formalities and solutes forgotten. Levi rounded the desk and gripped her shoulders.

"That's not what I meant. You're still just one more soldier. Another body to throw at the enemy."

"But you just said I'm valuable."

He clenched his jaw. "Not to the mission—to me."