The first ten seconds were a mess of varying tensions. It didn't escape Irwin's notice that Corporal had at least partially drawn his sword and it didn't escape Corporal's that Irwin still had the power to turn his squad against him, if in action if not in spirit. Mike's hand remained firm on Corporal's shoulder, Oluo was poised in preparation for a fight, and Gunther was distinctly aware that he and Erd were smack in the line of fire.

Ten seconds. Then all of them experienced the relief of Corporal lowering that inch of steel.

"Well c'mon," he said. "Do you want the brat or not?"

Corporal only had eyes for Irwin. He shook off Mike and moved past Gunther, unseeing. Irwin leaned back against his desk and drummed his fingers in a maddening beat against the wood.

"I do," he murmured. "I also want you."

Corporal spread his arms. "Well fucking look. I'm here. Happy now?"

"I want you dead."

"Ah." Corporal's arms sunk like stones. "Then no," he said. "No."

They stared at one another and Gunther dared to take a step closer to Corporal. Oluo and Erd did the same. Slowly, Irwin's lip rose until he was sporting a sneer that showed off glints of whitened teeth.

"You betrayed me," he growled.

"Don't," Corporal growled right back. "Don't you fucking dare. Our relationship isn't some fairy tale shit based on trust. Given the slimmest chance I'd kill you, completely, just like you'd kill me, but we both know neither of us have that option right now, so what else do you want, Irwin? The human boy? Because I'll drag him back by his hair if that's your desire, O' Great and Shining One."

"Why?" Irwin snapped. He leaned forward, spitting. "Why help me?"

"Because I want something too."

Corporal's mouth twisted and had it been anyone else Gunther would have identified the movement as a cruel, budding smile.

Corporal moved then. He took deliberate, agonizing steps forward—Irwin's breath becoming shallower with every thump of his boots—until Corporal stopped and turned sharply on his heel. He circled the desk, hands tracing but never touching the objects there. Coming to the seat, the place of power, Corporal danced his fingers above a nearby empty space, hovering where a seal had once lain.

"You're fucked, Irwin." He said. "Currently. But I can help un-fuck you if that's what you want. In fact, I already have, you sadistic piece of shit. Did I take your precious seal? Yep. Saw the chance, took it, you got your revenge, I inconveniently survived… isn't this the game we play? But it could have been a whole hell of a lot worse for you. Be thankful I took that trash when I did."

"Thankful?" Irwin barked a startled laugh. "Yes. 'Thankful' is exactly the feeling…"

"Sure it is. Me taking your seal means your brother never got the chance to take it himself."

They all watched as the blood ran straight out of Irwin's face.

"What?" Corporal asked. "You didn't really think a human kid broke into your office—and healed me—all on his own, did you? Idiot."

With a scream of rage Irwin stalked to the door and slammed both palms down atop the knockers. There was a brief flash of light and then the previously still handles began to move, rippling like there was something crawling beneath their bronze skin. Within seconds the faces from the entrance had appeared. They crooned with piercing voices and showed off their sharpened teeth.

"Sir!" The one on the right cried. "Magnificent Sir!"

"Yes, yes! Magnificent!" echoed the one on the left. And they continued in this vein until Irwin's yells overtook them both. Gunther had still been kneeling when Irwin had called these two in earlier and he'd been forced to sit through a similar rant with remarkably similar questions: who'd dared to come into his rooms? How had they gotten in? Why had you simpletons let them in? Now though, as Gunther continued trying to get closer to Corporal without actually moving, he heard details spilling out. The knockers stuttered that it maybe, possibly, potentially hadn't just been the boy. They'd seen something—a something-something—slipping between them before their doors were forcibly opened. What was it? They couldn't say. It was just a something.

"Erwin," Irwin hissed when he'd sent them away. "Of course."

Gunther had never heard anyone say their own name with such venom before but Corporal took advantage like a pro, tearing at the wound like a dog wild on the scent of blood.

"He's finally making his move." Corporal goaded but his voice was light, unconcerned. "His final attack. Are you prepared, Irwin? Fuck no you're not. Annie is gone… your seal is gone… the bathhouse itself is fractured… you don't even have your shitty greed to throw at the problem."

Quick as a whip Corporal's hand flew from the seal's empty space to the obscene pile of gold sitting beside it. Irwin had a scale on his desk and he'd tipped it with all the treasure that Dot had left, as well as a large trove gained from that rogue spirit.

Gunther would never say that he knew Corporal well (he didn't think anyone did) but he did know him better than most. Even with all the identity that Irwin had stolen through their contract, Gunther still knew important things: like that his Corporal was an incredible fighter, that he feared disorder more than a sword, teacups were handled with an almost devotional care, and children… underneath his stoicism there was a fierce protection of children unlike any Gunther had seen before. It made him fear that Corporal had never been protected himself. How had Corporal died? Who was he exactly as a spirit? Gunther didn't know. He didn't even have the reassurance that this lack of answers definitely stemmed from Irwin's spell work and not the fact that, maybe, Corporal had simply never trusted Gunther enough to tell him.

What Gunther did know was that he had these other memories and numerous others floating in his head. Amidst this jumble of things that meant 'Corporal' were visions of him shying away from magic, acknowledging it only with the deepest disgust, or sometimes even with fear. These emotions had translated quite literally into his skill-set. Corporal would never be able to cast magic but he was quite deft at tearing it limb from limb.

So Gunther wasn't at all surprised when Corporal snapped his fingers and the pile of gold crumbled to dust.

"Woooow," he drawled. "A spirit who hates you and a creepy-ass intruder gave you fake gold. Who's surprised? Not fucking me."

Irwin bent forward at the waist as a pained whine forced its way out from his lips. To Gunther it looked as if he was poised between collapsing entirely and straightening again, purely through force of will. Will won and Irwin rose to stare Corporal down.

"What do you want?" He demanded.

"My name." Corporal's response was unhesitating and he raised a hand as Irwin made to speak. "I'll go and retrieve your precious power source and in return you give me back my name, tear up my contract, and scatter it across the fucking winds. I leave here, unharmed, not matter what. That's non-negotiable, shithead. But…" Here Corporal paused. "I don't want to leave the brat either."

Irwin smirked. Some of his confidence began to return and, feeling the tug, Gunther joined Erd and Oluo in taking their place behind him. It gave them an even better view of Corporal: still standing behind the desk but no longer entirely in control of the room.

"Ahh." Irwin said. "That will always be your weakness, Corporal." Suddenly his eyes hardened again. "I'm not just giving you that bastard."

"Then I'm not just giving you Annie."

"You're already getting your name."

"I am? Didn't realize we'd agreed to anything yet. I want more."

Irwin almost looked proud. He tilted his head forward in a mocking bow. "A compromise then? You do realize Shifter still has his own contract intact, right? Even if I don't find him—which is unlikely—he'll still never be free. Although… that being said, he's no good to me wandering in the woods. I either want him working or I want him dead. Whatever strikes my fancy at the time." Irwin grinned, a quick flash of teeth that was sharp and feral. "So let's make a wager like civilized men, shall we? You bring Shifter to me, I promise not to kill the maggot outright, and in turn you agree to let him decide his own fate… in a manner weighted somewhat in my favor, of course."

"Of course." Corporal spit. "How?"

"A test." Irwin shrugged. "Oh, I'm sure I'll come up with something entertaining, preferably something that draws in some customers." His eyes strayed to the pile of ashes adorning his desk. "If Shifter wins I'll let him go—tear up his contract just like yours. But if he looses…"

"You'll kill him." Corporal finished.

"Most likely. I… I think I'll drown him." Irwin smiled again and laughed. Gunther saw Oluo shiver beside him and felt an answering shake in his knees. "What choice do you have, Corporal? You may have some leverage over me but not nearly enough to demand both your life and his. Oh no, no, no, not after what you've both put me through. But…" his face grew grave again. "I'm not a man to mince words. I want Annie more than I want the brat. So if you need to throw a bone his way to get the job done…" Irwin gestured dramatically. "Than by all means."

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yes, fine." Corporal moved forward as if to finish the deal but Irwin held up a finger.

"I do want Petra too," He said.

Corporal grit his teeth. "No. I'm not handing her to you on a fucking plate."

"Really?" Irwin laughed again, louder this time. "But you're willing to just leave her behind, along with the rest of them?" He turned to take in Gunther and the others. "Do you hear that, boys? Your precious Corporal cares not a bit for the likes of you." None of them moved. "Now, Corporal, your own life I can understand, but Shifter's? I'm surprised at you. Abandoning your own team in favor of a human."

"They knew what they were getting into when they asked for jobs here," he said evenly. "So did I. The brat is just a fucking kid." Corporal barely spared Gunther a glance. "I'm not responsible for them but I'm not leaving a child with you, Irwin. Not if I can help it."

"Yes, yes. You and your conscience…" Irwin looked disgusted. "It's a deal then?" He held out his hand.

Slowly, Corporal walked out from behind the desk and with probably more courage than was readily apparent, took Irwin's hand in his own. They shook once—a movement quick as a cut—and then backed away just as fast. Corporal immediately reached inside his shirt for a handkerchief and began wiping between their fingers.

"I must admit that I'll miss working with you," Irwin said. "You and I are so very much alike."

"Fuck you," Corporal said. "I'm nothing like you."

"As you say."

Irwin reached into his own shirt and produced a remarkably similar handkerchief. Together the men stood face-to-face, cleaning away the memories of the other.

"So it's pretty apparent you suck at this."

Eren glared at Jean who was just standing there like a lump—a giant, horse-faced, useless lump. They'd made it to the bank before nightfall just as Erwin had demanded, and now all that was left was to find their way to his house… or wherever it was that sorcerers lived. Eren wanted to simply head out on foot but Petra insisted that it was too far; they'd have to use the gear Connie had provided. Annie had changed them both back one they'd reached land and now Eren was 99.9% certain it was just so they could have a better view of him making a fool of himself.

"You really suck."

"Would you shut it, Jean!"

Eren grit his teeth and tried balancing again. He hadn't come all this way to kill himself by flying into the nearest tree so he'd suggested—rightly he thought—that they experiment with the gear a bit before actually taking to the air. Turns out it had been a damn good suggestion. Forget flying. Eren could barely get off the ground.

They'd rigged it so that on clasp from each side was connected to the nearest tree, creating a harness with the rest of the gear that Eren could, theoretically, balance in. Easier said than done though. Every time Hanji and Petra pulled on the cords to hoist Eren into the air he immediately went head down and ass up. All he'd gotten out of the stupid experiment were multiple bruises to add to his catalogue. Oh, and apparently Jean's amusement. Mustn't forget that. Eren glared at him, wishing that the darkness didn't lessen the blow so much.

"You need to relax," Hanji called. "Keep loose." She tugged on her cord and Eren squawked as his left side was suddenly pulled upwards. Fretting, Petra tried compensating by pulling her side too. All it accomplished was the same damn result: Eren flew up, held it for a second, and then tipped forward alarmingly. He caught a look at Armin's luminescent face, saw nothing but horror there, and realized what was about to happen right before his temple cracked against the ground.

"Oh fuuuuuuck!" Eren cried. He curled inward, pressing his hands against his forehead and curling his toes. Armin was there. He tugged Eren's hands away and made pained 'ah' sounds at whatever he saw.

"Oooooo. Am I dying?" Eren muttered.

He hoped that particular 'ah' meant 'no.'

"Don't do anything too stupid." Annie said. "I can't heal you just yet." She leaned against a nearby tree where she'd been ever since she'd transformed back. Annie did look tired still. He entire weight was resting against the trunk and her hair was picking up bits of debris from where she lay it against the bark. The only part of her that moved was her fingers. The second she was human she'd pulled a ring from her pocket and had been fiddling with it since. Now, Jean eyed the movement suspiciously.

"Married?" He asked. Eren couldn't tell if he was serious or not. Apparently neither could Annie.

"My kind don't generally give rings as a sign of commitment," she said.

"Right. Then you…?"

"Procure the head of your beloved's most hated rival. You present it to them—minus the scalp—on your wedding night. If you both happen to have the same rival than it's considered romantic to take the bastard down together." Annie shrugged.

"You—you—" Jean was all eyes until Hanji started laughing. "You're joking."

"Yep." Annie tossed the ring high where it flashed in the darkness. "It's a blood ring." It came down, landing neatly in the palm of her hand. There she slipped it onto a finger and twisted it sharply. Eren watched as a curved section popped out from the inside. Even as far away as he was he could tell it was wicked sharp.

"Easy access to your own blood." Annie said. "Not too much either. That's not something you want to just leave lying around. But some spells, the powerful ones, they require a bit of sacrifice." She looked directly at Eren and shrugged again. "Re-growing limbs isn't like fixing a bump on the head. You've got a bit of my blood mixed in with you now."

"Well I'm fine with that." Eren said, overriding Jean's gag. "Armin? Help me up? This time I'll try—Armin?"

Armin wasn't looking at him though. He was staring at the gear strapped around Eren's chest and waist, specifically the clasps about his stomach. Armin's body was nearly invisible in the dark now so Eren jumped when he suddenly felt that malleable hand touching his shirt. Armin tugged at a specific clamp and Eren felt an answering looseness in the rest of the gear.

"What the—?"

Ignoring him Armin made a pleased sound and set to creating a book. Within seconds he had a small pile of gold that then melted right back against the pages. Only it didn't disappear. Armin scooped the liquid metal and began applying it to the clasp, creating a gold casing around the whole thing.

"It's defective," Petra said. She looked from Eren to the trees he was still connected to. "I'm surprised you were able to balance at all if the gear was broken…"

"Oh man, is Connie gonna hear about this." Hanji rubbed her hands together gleefully.

"Ha!" Eren called. "So I don't suck!"

"You still suck overall," but even Jean looked slightly impressed. From the shadows Annie gave him what might have been a small smile but it was really impossible to tell.

"Try again," she said.

So he did and this time Eren could feel the difference straight away. Instead of tipping one way or another his body simply floated in the harness, so long as he kept his muscles as relaxed as possible. It became easier the longer he held it and after just a few moments he was able to let his legs droop completely, looking up at his friends with an admittedly goofy smile.

"I'm flying!" he said.

"Not yet you're not," and Hanji smacked him on the back. It set Eren reeling for a second but then he tightened his thighs and the muscles along his stomach. Doing so was almost instinctual—and it was a good instinct, because it pulled him back upright where Eren immediately relaxed again, back to his previously balanced position. Hanji gaped at him. Then her own face split into an answering grin and she turned to Jean.

"Does that still look 'sucky' to you? Eh, horse-boy?"

"Leave off, squirrel-girl." But Jean was heading towards them with a smile too.

"Are you two just going to sling animal insults all night or are we actually doing this?" Petra pointed up to the stars. "We have the length of a natural night. During that I'm confident Irwin won't have the time or the energy to follow us. Come morning though…"

Eren was nodding before she'd even finished. None of them knew what the dawn was going to bring. Change, hopefully. But of what sort they couldn't say.

Still hanging, oddly comfortable, Eren felt a tug on his bare foot. Armin was holding up another book with silver writing spiraling down the page.

"'What if Irwin sends someone on his behalf?'" Eren read. The others stilled but Eren was already mentally flipping through everyone that could potentially be given that responsibility: Oluo, Mike, Erd, Gunther… maybe Moblit if he was found… maybe even Corporal. Despite the fear that seized him at the thought of any of these friends being forced to hunt him down, Eren knew that it would be just that—force. They were on the same team, even if that wasn't always so obvious. They would fight.

"We'll be okay," Eren said. They would because he couldn't allow them to be anything else.

They all just stood there.

"C'mon," Eren encouraged. "Get me down already. I want to really try Connie's craziness now and like you said, Petra, the night's not gonna last forever."

Learning to actually use the gear went better than Eren could have ever expected. There were a few more rough tumbles and yes, a few near crashes into some trees, but within less than an hour Eren was literally flying high, as easily as if he'd been born to it. Never—never—had he felt such freedom before. Not tumbling down a hill back home, not tearing through a neighbor's yard with their shouts right on his heels, not even when he'd been pushing against the brutal waves that had tried to keep him from Mikasa (because Eren could admit now that a fear of one's life did allow for a very specific kind of freedom). But this? This was the intensity of that freedom without the same sickening terror; it was a fear born of exhilaration instead of the other way around. What was truly amazing was that Eren couldn't have been more than ten feet off the ground, going probably half the speed that the gear was capable of. Think of what he could do if he just pushed a little more. The possibilities sent Eren's heart rate up another notch.

Glitches or no, Eren was going to kiss Connie when he next saw him because this shit was well and truly awesome.

He was also never, ever giving it back.

When the initially giddiness died down a bit Eren took to Marco's instructions. With watchful eyes below to guide him, he quickly learned how to aim the clasps at high points in a tree's truck, or a limb that he was positive could hold his weight. Eren learned how to maintain that looseness in his limbs as he was flying through the air but how to also tighten muscles for when he wanted to turn. More than once he sent up a thanks for his reflexes. In this type of travel you had to have your next three locations mapped out, or else be prepared to land fast—and that was easier said than done when landing involved very painfully dense trees in a near pitch-black environment.

Despite the danger though, Eren found himself having to resist Jean's encouragement ("Do a flip, you wimp! C'mon already. DO A FLIP!") and when he did eventually land, stumbling right through the dirt, there was a definite pang of disappointment of having forced his feet back on the ground.

Hanji helped, as always. She ran to meet him and outstripped all the others. When she'd gotten close she threw herself to her knees and skid the rest of the way. Her face looked nearly as bright as Eren's felt.

"That was great!" She yelled. "Me next. Me next!"

"You're not coming," Annie said. She came up behind Hanji, already slipping her ring back on her finger and pulling Petra close. The urgency of her movements hit Eren like a punch to the gut.

"Oh," he said. All that giddiness faded. "Right."

Eren looked down at Hanji, still kneeling, and saw his own disappointment reflected back at him. Of course she wasn't coming. Neither were Marco or Jean who came up behind her with equal signs of worry in their frowns and the twitching of their hands. Up in the sky those things—the bad things—just seemed easy to forget.

"Can't you make them small too?" He asked Annie but she shook her head.

"Not enough energy." Then she added: "I'm Sorry," and Eren watched as she and Petra shrunk.

"Come here," Hanji said and she rose to gather Eren back into her arms. The hug was quick this time, just a squeeze and a hum and a peck left in the depths of his hair. Then she was replaced by Marco whose scars pressed rough against his cheek and Jean who simply gripped his collar and cuffed the back of his head. Eren responded by wiping his filthy feet on the bottom of Jean's pants.

"You're an ass," Jean said fondly.

"We'll take the boat back." Hanji said. "Keep a super low profile. We…" She blew out a breath. "We've already been gone for a while. I don't know if we'll be able to sneak back out again."

"We've gone over this," Eren reassured. He lifted a tiny Petra and Annie up to his chest. "You don't even know when we'll get back. We'll…" Eren swallowed. "We'll swim back. We'll be fine."

Marco smiled lopsidedly. "Yeah you will."

"But you'll be back before morning, right?" Hanji worried at the edge of her shirt. Then she pounded fists against her thighs. "Promise!"

"I promise," and Eren held out his pinkie. Hanji just blinked at it.

"It's a human thing. Link your pinkie with mine." She went to do so… then pulled back.

"Shouldn't I make a promise too?" Hanji tiled her head. "I think I will. I promise to look after Corporal while you're gone," she said solemnly. Behind her Marco and Jean nodded. "Okay?"

Eren swallowed, nodded, linked fingers, and then pumped them up and down a few good times.

He didn't want to let go.

"There," he whispered. "Human pinkie promise."

Hanji's smile was worth a whole hell of a lot. Eren just hoped she thought the same of his.

He watched as three of his friends jogged back towards the shore, heads already bent in preparation for the guises they'd don: hard-working, obedient spirits. Nothing more. Nothing less.

There was only one other friend left. It has never been said out loud that Armin would be coming with them but everyone knew. More accurately, they understood that Armin would simply refuse to leave. Remembering the lightness of his friend when he'd pulled him up into the barn, Eren placed a bird and a mouse on his shoulder and then scooped Armin right into his arms.

Admittedly it was sort of awkward at first but Eren also wouldn't deny that there was something lovely about having his friend pressed this close. Armin developed legs that wrapped comfortably about his waist and his hair tickled in bursts against Eren's chin. His white face was a beacon against the darkness up ahead.

Darkness or no, they had to head forward. Eren ran, jumped, and connected to the nearest tree. The four of them flew up among the branches, dodging limbs and leaves…

… each pass bringing them closer to Erwin.