Her mission was set. Plot the best possible path to Shiganshina, note the damage to the roads and the overgrown outskirts, and determine if there were any new breaches in Wall Maria. Simple enough, Erwin assured Katrine; it would only take two days, and she'd take her squad and a few other soldiers he'd assigned for safety. The enemy, if in Shiganshina, already knew which Scouts held sentient Titans and wouldn't bother killing them. They knew the Scouts needed to get to Shiganshina one way or another, Erwin surmised, so why hinder their progress?

"Don't you think you're setting us up to fall right into their hands?" Katrine asked. The maps spread before them on Erwin's desk were covered in markings, red arrows circling Shiganshina and the other districts along Wall Maria, indicating his possible strategies. They didn't convince her.

"There's no other way. There is no path forward that doesn't start at Eren's basement." He leaned forward in his chair to tap Shiganshina on the map. "That's why we have to be as prepared as possible."

"I understand," Katrine said, rising from her chair and scraping it back into place. His office was suffocating as ever. "We'll prepare tonight and set off in the morning."

"I always wondered," he said without looking at her, his voice suspiciously light. "Whenever you're on a scouting mission, do you ever consider never coming back?"

"Sometimes." Odd question. But he knew her well enough to tell if she lied. "The chance that you'd end up getting eaten by a Titan before you ever find anything seems too high a risk, though. And if not that, you'd probably starve before finding anything."

"And now? There's compelling evidence that humans are the basis for Titans. We create them; we're turned into them. You said yourself that proves there is humanity outside the Walls. So does that change your opinion?"

Of course it did. "If you don't trust me, you can send another squad."

"No. I was just curious." His expression turned thoughtful. "But I don't think I'd blame you if you did."

"Never thought to try it yourself?"

Erwin shook his head. "I'm not brave enough for that."

"So if no one on my squad comes back alive, will you assume that we all decided to throw caution to the wind and find someplace new? Or, that we all got eaten?"

"I'd hedge my bets on eaten. Not everyone thinks the risk is worth it. But if you were alone, that would be a different story."

Her jaw tightened. "I came back when I was with Silas's squad and I got lost. I was alone then."

"You didn't get lost. And, that was within Wall Rose." He turned back to the map. "Do you think it's worth it to try to seal Wall Maria? Even with the new recruits coming from the MPs and Garrison corps. We have Eren, of course, but the Armored and Colossal are a pair, and they convinced Ymir to join them. And we have to assume the Beast is aligned with them. That's four to one. Even with strategizing beforehand, I'm not sure the rest of the Scouts will accept this."

"It is terrible odds. Couldn't pay me enough to be in your shoes. They probably don't pay you enough, either."

He smiled, a melancholy attempt that didn't reach his eyes. "It's not about the money."

"So? What are you going to tell everyone?"

"I'm going to tell them that we're going to retake Wall Maria, and there's nothing that can stop us."

"You're going to lie?" There certainly was something that could stop them. Four things, in fact. "They should know if you think it's hopeless. Not everyone wants to die in vain. They deserve a choice."

"They joined the Scouts for a reason. And this operation is that reason."

"There isn't any other way?" This was Erwin; of course he could think of something different. "Can't we wait them out? There's nothing for them to eat out there besides rabbits. Let the winter do the dirty work."

"They're prepared. Waiting is a waste of time."

"What's so important about Eren's basement, then? There's information the Royal Family kept hidden from us. I'm sure someone from the Royal Council would spill their secrets with a little convincing."

Erwin sighed as if he were the tutor of a stubborn pupil. "Eren is the first sentient Titan humanity within the Walls ever knew, and that the Scouts have access to. If his father knew something about it, it's worth investigating. And with the lies the Royal Council spun for decades, I'd like to find a new, unbiased source."

"But our enemies know you want to seal Wall Maria. They're probably waiting for us there. It's walking right into a trap. And how do you know they won't find me and my squad there and kill us before we can get the information to you?"

"I don't. But I have faith that you'll–"

"You have faith in me?" Katrine gripped the back of her chair, trying to keep herself from raising her voice. "You have faith that I'll just do whatever you say and let everyone in my squad die?"

"I have faith," he said evenly, "that you will make the right decision."

Katrine shook her head. "I suppose you lie to us all the time, then."

"I do what's best for our soldiers, and what's best for every single person who lives within the Walls. At times, that means concealing the truth. Or lying. But I have never lied to any Scout out of malice or to solely benefit myself."

Fine, if that's what helped him sleep at night. "So you don't trust the Scouts enough to be able to make their own decisions with the information in front of them?"

"As their commander, they trust me to make the decisions for the group that are in their best interests. They joined the Survey Corps for the same reason I did–to retake what humanity has lost and discover the truths preventing humanity from flourishing. If one step toward that goal means dying in Shiganshina, then that's a worthy sacrifice. Or, if we succeed, they can live to see the reward of retaking territory once thought lost. Or, we could hide and die as old and decrepit cowards."

Dying old was exactly what she wanted, far away from everything and everyone that could harm her. "I think they should make that decision knowing that death is the most likely outcome." Do you know what would happen if we told you? Valeria had said. Your stumbles turn into falls and you're out the door. She'd meant well. But she'd also forced Katrine into a mold she desperately wanted to break, chained her to someone else's vision. Yes, there'd been food and warmth, a roof over her head. But it might've been worth it to trade all that to answer to no one but herself.

Erwin sighed, realizing his tactic was failing. "Elisabeth never talked to you about our family, right?"

"She said your father had died under mysterious circumstances, that it was likely by the MPs. And that it was your fault. But your mother died before that, thankfully."

"What did she tell you about that?"

"That she died of pneumonia when Elisabeth was a few months old. She said she didn't remember her."

"Correct. But it's not what really happened." He continued when Katrine raised her eyebrows. "She died in childbirth. Elisabeth's birth."

Understanding unfurled slowly in her mind. "So you…"

"My father decided. And he told me to go along with it. Even at that young age, I understood. Why let someone live with such a burden if there was a chance to lift it? Why crush her before she had a chance to grow?"

It must have been a heavy burden to shoulder for decades. But he chose to keep carrying it. "By that same logic, the Royal Council was right to keep everything they knew from us because they wanted to protect us from the pain of the truth. But they lied to us to control us. And you're doing that here."

"No," he said. "We kept it from her to set her free."

"You're not setting any of the Scouts free by sending them to Shiganshina. You're sending them to their deaths."

"I disagree. If we're successful, then we free every single being within these walls."

That day flashed in her memory again. Valeria, waiting for Katrine on the front steps of the Company, her hair a dull copper under the sickly morning sun. That pale yellow slip of paper was pinched between her fingers, so insubstantial that it might blow away in the wind. It hadn't set her free. But it had lengthened the leash.

"Alright," Katrine said, dropping her hand from the chair and straightening, a soldier accepting her mission. "I'll go to Shiganshina. But you can't blame me if I warn my squad that it's for a suicide mission. You wouldn't have told me all this if you hadn't considered that possibility." She'd take as much as the leash allowed her, tug on it, fray the rope. She turned, reaching his closed door in two long strides, grabbing the cold brass knob.

"Wait," Erwin said, and she stopped. "I need to apologize to you."

"For what? All this?" She waved her hand.

"No. For something else. A while back."

Her stomach soured. "What?"

"I told you once that I'd received a letter from an Emile Kaiser, regarding your status in the Scouts. I recall it made you uncomfortable."

No, that. Every time she entered Erwin's office she'd scanned every loose scrap of paper for it, even snuck in and went digging for it a few times when he was away. She'd never found it. But the threat of it, and the fact that Mr. Kaiser had followed her all the way to training and cornered her, was a noose around her neck that never loosened, not even with his death. "I remember."

Silent, he folded down a corner of the map, smoothing the crease over and over again with his finger, his eyes refusing to meet hers. Time oozed by as she waited, the doorknob now warm in her hand. "It was a lie," he finally said. "It never existed."

In an instant, the room contracted around her. The air thickened into cold cement, preventing her from breathing. He'd pulled the pin from the grenade of emotions bottled within her and they threatened to explode: rage at being lied to, that this man considered her so easy to manipulate; that she was stupid enough to believe him; and, worst of all, shameful disappointment that Mr. Kaiser hadn't wanted her back, proof that she wasn't good enough. She must've looked dumbstruck, mouth gaping like an idiot, and even he was so pained by the silence that he had to speak. "I'm sorry."

"You?" Katrine squeaked like a child. "But– why?"

"I was afraid."

"Afraid?" Her voice turned high and mocking. "Afraid of what?"

He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting hers. Any inking of regret was demolished by calculating coldness. "That you'd disappear into the ether. I wasn't going to let a cadet of your caliber slip out of my hands; that would be foolish. That memory, that spatial recognition? But after the incident with Captain Silas, I suspected you'd try. You wanted to get out. But you were cagey; didn't want the promotion. For whatever reason, I still don't know. So I had to cut off any exit strategy and make the Scouts your best option. Make sure you were responsible for lives other than your own." His smile was rueful, but it was still a smile. "Since you were so insistent on the truth."

"You said Zackley was a stickler for rules and would court-martial me," she said, desperate for anything to prove it wasn't true.

Erwin chuckled softly. "He doesn't care. Doubt he reads beyond the first sentence of our monthly reports. A court-martial is time taken away from his other…pursuits."

She hated him. Her fingers itched to draw the knife at her leg and bury it in him, something excruciating but not fatal. She could burn down his office, sprinkle arsenic on his dinner, cut the cables of his ODM gear. Anything to make him regret it, make him rue the day he decided to ensnare her, make him wish he were blind so he couldn't read her anymore. "I have a vial of Titan serum," she said. "And I'm not giving it to you."

Erwin's brow furrowed. Victory. "You do?" He nodded, solving his own question. "I assume you got it from the laboratory."

"I did."

"Keep it." He leaned back in his chair. If she'd had the vial in her hand, she would have smashed it right in front of him. "Don't tell anyone else. It's best that way since the brass already knows we have one. If they know we have two, that's too much power in our hands for their comfort. Though, I'm sure you'll make the right decision when it comes to using it."

"You know what I'll do? I'll go to Shiganshina. And maybe I'll find one of the enemies, and I'll turn myself into a Titan and eat one of them. There's my best chance of leaving here and finding whatever's beyond this. Doesn't matter how far away. I'd have the power to do it."

"You're the only one who could do it." He cocked his head. "Though I hope you'll come back and show us the way."

She yanked open the door, wishing the woosh of air made a noise. "I would die for my squad. But I'd never die for you," she spat and stalked out the door, refusing to close it for him.

"I'd never ask you to," Erwin called out, and she cursed herself for not slamming the door and letting him have the last word. That patronizing bastard would be sorry. She'd make him sorry.

Katrine stalked down the stairs and burst out of the Scouts' headquarters. They could speed up preparations and leave tonight. Shiganshina was as good a place as any to lick her wounds, and there she'd decide what to do. Erwin could do what he wanted. But he couldn't make that choice for her, and not for Sara, Elisabeth, or Mila, either. She'd promised herself that leaving Mitras meant she was the master of her own path. Not even Erwin, the man who stole back his life from the grip of Titans time and time again, could rip that out of her hands.

Shiganshina, having been left untouched for so many years, had shaken off its humanity and embraced something wilder. The forced geometry of buildings and streets had broken down into swirling, feral chaos. Grass splintered pavement, carpeting the city in green, while ivy crept up the walls to consume the gray stone. Rain and wind had eroded the sharp edges of the two breaches, luckily still the only ones. But Shiganshina was far from dead; from the top of the wall, Katrine watched deer pick through the rubble and birds hopping from one caved-in roof to the next, unbothered by the few Titans meandering by or pawing at the wall, having noticed the humans above them.

Sara was the only one beside her, the two sitting with their feet dangling off the edge. The others were on the opposite side of the wall or inspecting the breaches; with them out of sight and the wind whipping around them, it felt like they were the only ones alive. The blur of green and brown in the distance beneath a vast expanse of sky far beyond the wall winked at her in the sunlight like a mirage, beckoning her. The risk was more tempting after what Erwin had said.

"You never told me you were from the Underground," Sara said.

Katrine dug the heels of her hands into the stone. "I didn't tell anyone." The consequences of attending the committee meeting with Levi were both what she'd expected and hadn't considered. Mostly it was pity, soft watery eyes turned down when she passed and stilted conversation whenever someone thought they'd complained too much. Thankfully, no one wanted to think about it too much. But if someone decided to let their thoughts wander where they shouldn't, make the connection between the Underground and the Mitras Company and her true purpose there, those consequences could turn catastrophic. It made her tense at every lingering glance, every hesitation that came before a sentence spoken to her.

"You could've, you know," Sara said. "It doesn't matter to me. And I wouldn't have told anyone."

"It's really not that important. It's not like I was there for very long." Five years, and little of it that she could remember. If she didn't think about it, then she was never there at all. "And you can't keep a secret for more than an hour."

"That's not true!" Sara folded her arms. "And it is important. If it wasn't, you'd have mentioned it."

"I almost stepped in horse shit this morning, but I didn't mention it because it's not important."

Sara screwed up her face in disgust. "That's not my point. But fine." She sighed, swinging her legs in the air more forcefully. "I just wanted to tell you that it makes me feel better. To know that you're just as scared as the rest of us."

"Scared of what?"

"Of what people think of you. At first I thought you didn't, like it was all beneath you. But then I got to know you better. And so much has happened between now and when we were cadets. We were young and stupid, like little kids."

"I'm scared of a lot of things," Katrine said. It was the truth.

"You're good at hiding it, you could teach me a few things!" Sara laughed, a sad, small laugh. "Remember, right before our first expedition? Us, and Charlotte and Larissa. Do you think they'd be proud of us?"

"I don't…" They were dead. If she'd been faster, smarter, then maybe they wouldn't. "I don't really know."

"I think they are. Because we've been brave. I was going to join the Garrison because it would be safer. But then I saw you. You were brave. Nothing stopped you. And you went straight for the Scouts. And I thought if I did the same, then I could be just like you." Sara rose to her feet, rubbing her arms against the sudden chill. "Sorry, I'm being weird. It's just when you went to Mitras…I didn't want to think you were abandoning us. And then the things you must've seen…" A shudder rippled through her body. "I think I'd have run away crying."

It hadn't seemed brave at the time. "I was pretty close to that."

"By the way, I think you're lying. You told him. You'd be stupid not to."

It was obvious to whom Sara was referring, but thankfully she didn't name him. "Why would that make me stupid?"

"Want to get a man interested? Start with what you have in common. The more horrible, the better." Sara tapped her forehead. "Misery loves company! That's elemental."

Katrine groaned, disguising her smile. "If it makes you think more highly of me, then yes, I did."

"Good. I didn't want to think you were completely hopeless." Sara extended a hand and helped Katrine to her feet. "Do we have to stay here any longer? This place gives me the creeps."

The maps, Katrine determined, were mostly accurate. The roads, despite being cracked and choked with bramble, hadn't slithered away when no one was there to use them. And though they'd all been keenly aware of the possibility of the enemy Titan shifters lurking in the forests or hidden beneath empty beds inside rotting houses, nothing burst forth to devour them.

Similarly, no opportunity revealed itself as the one to seize, the moment where no one was looking and she could grab the reins of the horse latched to the supply wagon and take off through the breach in Wall Maria, never once looking back. Doing so would make her a liar, a traitor, and free. To break her chains, she would break her promises. You need to take care of them, Valeria had demanded of her. I'm here to help you, she'd told the children in the cellars of Mitras. When did that duty end, if ever? There was no way she could suggest the idea to Mila, Elisabeth, and Sara. She could never ask them to follow her, put more of their faith in her.

Instead, she gathered the soldiers, informed them that the mission was complete and that they had all the information Erwin needed, and when she mounted her horse she turned her back to the breach and the endless golden horizon and looked at Mila, swiveling back and forth in her saddle and gaping at the crumbling district. She'd never seen it before and only had stories to help her imagine the district buzzing with life.

"Mila, I never asked you why you joined the Scouts." Katrine had never considered it her business to know why other people enlisted, just as it was no one's right to know her reasoning, but the expedition was turning her into a sentimental fool.

Mila's eyes lit up at the question, but just as quickly faded. "It's nothing like how you grew up! It was only for the money," she said, clenching her reins in her hands.

"It's not a competition," Katrine said, trying not to bristle at even more pity heaped on top of her. "I'm just curious."

"I'm the middle child of seven," Mila said. "I grew up in a little town outside Wall Rose, so we didn't have much to begin with. And it got even worse when Wall Maria fell and we had to find a place within Wall Rose. With my brothers needing to pay for apprenticeships and my oldest sister's dowry, it fell on me to find somewhere to house and feed me and give me a little each month to send back." Her smile was melancholy. "If your family promised someone to the military, then you were all safe from the reclamation operation."

"But why the Scouts? It's safer in the other branches."

"I know. That was the plan. But when I went home on my first furlough, it was…" She twisted her reins. "It was like they'd all forgotten about me. Like I'd never even been there. They were worried about my brother's new baby, and how much wood Pa could cut down before the cold hit. It was all so…shortsighted. If I were in the Garrison, I'd only be managing lines at the pantries and pulling cats out of trees. No one would know I existed. But in the Scouts, we're actually doing something! Even now, Commander Erwin can't get his plan for Shiganshina set up without us!"

"That's true," Katrine said. "But if you saved someone's cat from a tree, I think they'd remember your kindness."

Mila shrugged. "I suppose so. But I want my family and everyone at home and all the way in Mitras to know that Wall Maria was fixed, and Mila Schon helped."

For a moment Katrine saw Victoria on that horse, dark hair flying behind her, beaming with hope and pride. Wall Maria was fixed, and Victoria Radfield helped. Maybe if Katrine had kept her mouth shut that night, had said nothing when Victoria begged her to tell her what the patrons did, then she'd still be alive. It was what Valeria had done. She was right, that knowing made you think too much, dredged up crazy thoughts that grew claws and tore through your head, driving you mad. Being kept in the dark meant you never knew there were monsters lurking in the shadows, never imagined that something could swallow you whole.

They returned to Trost as the sun set, the sky a single red slash amongst clouds swollen with rain. Katrine cornered Elisabeth in the stables, grabbing her arm as the rest of them rushed back to headquarters to avoid the inevitable downpour. "I need to tell you something," she said in a low voice. The image of Elisabeth as a baby, swaddled in blankets with no mother to hold her, sent a chill through her.

"What?" Elisabeth continued attending to her horse, not stopping on Katrine's account.

"I have a vial of Titan serum."

She halted, her saddle halfway off her horse, lips parted in confusion. "The same kind that Erwin said Captain Levi found?"

"I think it's the same. I found it when we were in Mitras."

"I see." Just like her brother, the confusion on Elisabeth's face quickly dissipated to blankness and she returned to her task. "Did you tell him?"

"Yeah. He told me to keep it. He's not telling the Scouts because the government can't handle us having two."

She nodded, accepting that reasoning. "What do you plan to do with it? And why are you telling me?"

"Because if one of us gets hurt, then we can use it. I didn't tell Mila or Sara, though. If I did, they'd get too nervous about me holding on to it. And you won't tell."

Elisabeth hummed in agreement. "Good to have, then." Looping her reins and setting them on the brass hook next to her horse's stall, Elisabeth left the stables as if they'd never spoken.

Katrine hung back, finding things to pick up or put away, moving at a glacial pace. Her tongue had twisted at the thought of telling her squad what Erwin planned. There wasn't a point in making them needlessly nervous. Was that the way to protect them?

It could work. Erwin had lived longer than she had with twice as absurd schemes, had blazed a path further than anyone else could. Trusting him was never a foolish decision, even if unpalatable. And if his plan didn't work, she had the serum. That, combined with her squad's skill, might be enough to save them.

She stepped outside the stables just as the rain began to fall, ready to prove that she wouldn't abandon the people she'd promised to protect.

With the maps corrected and munitions gathered, instructions given and repeated dozens of times, and the troops rallied with a feast of meat and mead, the Scouts' preparations were deemed complete; they would embark on the mission to retake Wall Maria the following morning. Katrine had fulfilled her tasks quickly and made herself scarce until the sky drained of color and the shuffle of footsteps above her closet faded. When everyone else was feasting, she took the opportunity to slip away from headquarters to her stage.

Returning to Trost after the mission to Shiganshina made the district entirely foreign to her. Noises she once ignored were deafening, and windows she'd passed before without a second thought suddenly held multitudes, miniature landscapes begging to be explored. People streaming out of houses and shops and alleyways, previously obstacles to dodge, now brimmed with energy, their banal conversations entrancing. It was like the first time she'd lifted a rotting log during her time in the Corps and found life teeming beneath it, a tiny world hidden at her feet. The distractions caused her to nearly stumble over Armin, Mikasa, and Eren, who sat on the stone steps a few blocks beyond the Scouts' headquarters, their arms wrapped around their legs and bodies coiled like springs. Their anticipation was palpable.

"Katrine!" Armin exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "How was Shiganshina? What does it look like?"

"Probably the same as how we left it," Eren said, burying his head into his knees. The stench of ale floated off him.

"Yes, but it'll be ours to take, and fix it up so it's better than it was before." Armin's enthusiasm refused to be sunk.

Katrine tried to put it into words. "It looked…" Like a broken city choked with weeds. Like the gateway to the rest of the world. "You're right, it didn't magically repair itself. But it's still there. And the way the earth grew over it and melded with the buildings… Well, it looks like something out of a fairy tale."

Armin laughed, the sound both giddy and terrified. "Imagine, Shiganshina looking like something out of Brother Peter's Tales! Like the clock tower that spews out rabbits every hour!"

"With the number of rabbits hopping around, that might be true," Katrine said.

Eren groaned, clutching his head. "Armin, you're giving me a headache."

"That's your own fault," Mikasa said.

The three fell into bickering, the kind that only friends who'd known each other for ages could keep up, so Katrine left them with only a wave. She'd reached the bottom of the steps when Mikasa caught up to her. "Wait," she said, reaching out to touch Katrine's shoulder, but then withdrew her hand like she'd begun to regret herself. "That book. About the Ackermans. Do you think it's really true?"

"I don't know. I can't say for certain it's all true, or even partially true."

"But it felt true. And even though Captain Levi acted like it wasn't, I think he feels the same. And if it is, then we're no better than cattle."

"You're still human," Katrine said.

"But my father…" Mikasa's eyes darkened as she gnawed on her thumbnail, lost in memories. Suddenly she shook her head to scatter them. "Never mind," she said, stiffening back into a soldier. "Thank you for translating, Captain Casimir."

"Oh, it's…" But Mikasa had already turned and strode back to Eren and Armin. Useless, Katrine let her retreat and made her way to the northern gate of Trost. She'd only seen brief glimpses of Levi and hadn't spoken to him since she'd read aloud what the Royal Council had written about the Ackermans; the silence between them could be easily be blamed on preoccupation with the mission. But there was nothing she could say about it that could be even remotely helpful, nothing that would cure the bitter poison she'd given him.

More silence waited for her at the stage, silence for her to suffocate under; all she'd been over the past few days was silent. She'd said nothing to Mila, Sara, and Elisabeth about the upcoming mission, the one that might be doomed to fail. She'd said nothing to Levi about that book, because who was she to assure him that the sins of one's ancestors didn't spatter onto their children? Some of it made sense. Too much of it. But it didn't explain the brute confidence that entranced and infuriated her, the effortless disregard for trivial opinions that slid off his back to be trampled at his feet, or most mysterious of all, the kindness he kept locked away behind countless doors but had revealed to her. That report may have thought that his very existence was a curse. But to her, it was both as calming as a cool wind on scarred skin and as enticing as the rumors they chased of mountains of fire that lay beyond the horizon; a bird soaring through the sky to remind her it was possible.

She took off her boots, placed them at the edge of the stage, tied on her slippers, and sat cross-legged on the cold wooden floor, waiting for inspiration to strike. It didn't. Dancing, or even attempting to dance, felt pointless after Lucian's death. The entirety of it was pointless. Was it to fill the nighttime hours when she couldn't sleep, fearing being woken by wandering hands? To hone a skill that could come in handy in that new world? To shake loose the forbidden thoughts that filled her mind? Nothing was right. Her limbs were heavy and the steps in her mind came slowly as molasses. Good thing Mr. Kaiser was already dead, or he'd take a knife to his throat at the sight of her.

A weak flash of anger flickered within her at the thought of him, and the reminder of how Erwin had lied. She hadn't wanted the promotion for this very reason: lives dependent on her, resting in the palm of her hand for her to drop! She twisted the pink ribbons of her slippers in her fingers, picking at their fraying ends. He was right. He was always right! But she had the syringe of Titan serum. It was hers and hers alone; she'd risked her life for it. If Erwin decided not to take it, that was his own fault. And if he was so desperate to die, that was his own decision. If she used it to help Sara, Elisabeth, and Mila, then it would serve its purpose.

But Erwin was nothing if not methodical. There was a reason why he'd planned the mission the way he had, a reason why he kept his doubts hidden. If she hadn't told Victoria what awaited her, then maybe things would be different. The girl was smart. She'd have bided her time, waiting for the moment to slip away and make her way to the Scouts. Katrine revealing the truth might have been the death knell. Victoria had been scared. Scared animals bite before they're killed and consumed.

But Mila, Sara, and Elisabeth hadn't seemed scared. They had no reason to be. They were excited, proud, wanting the best for the people they served. Maybe Katrine cared too much for the people that existed only within her mind, the ones that lived beyond the walls and in the place she imagined was better. Girls like Anya still existed, flesh and blood before her eyes and hands she held in her own. There were thousands just like her that were born Underground and brought to the surface with her help. Who was she to abandon them just as soon as she'd rescued them? Levi wouldn't even waste his thoughts on this. He was selfless, rescuing those who didn't even want it, concerned with the lives of his comrades before his own. Even hers, when she hadn't deserved it. If the report found that to be a flaw, it was mistaken.

You're selfish, and when that doesn't kill you, it'll kill someone else. She hadn't forgotten the words Levi had said, painful searing words that hurt because they were true. She didn't want to be selfish, or remembered that way. Not by him, especially.

Katrine reached into her pocket and pulled out the small silver mirror, turning it in her hands. The edges had tarnished to a dull brass, and the smooth surface of the mirror was marred by a hairline scratch. She remembered Victoria when no one else did. The walls no longer reverberated with Katrine's screams as she lay crumpled before Victoria's cold body; the men who'd harmed her were cold and dead as well. In the years to come, no one would remember Katrine if she disappeared into the horizon, but someone might if she didn't.

Moonlight reflected off the mirror and flickered before her as she closed the mirror and put it away.

The cold night air did little to soothe the angry heat simmering on Levi's skin, flush the scent of spices and meat from his nostrils. It was clear what Erwin was pulling with the feast, and the fact that the obvious distraction was working infuriated him.

Erwin was an idiot. What did he think was going to happen when he played soldier at Shiganshina, an empty sleeve fluttering behind him as he failed to fell a Titan with a single arm? Yes, he was smart. Too smart for his own good. But leading them to Shiganshina was suicide, and what could the Scouts do without him but wither and die like flies trapped between windowpanes?

Levi should have made good on his word, snapping Erwin's remaining arm and knocking him upside the head, leaving him comatose for a few days. But the purpose drained out of him when faced with Erwin's resolve. That Ackerman curse, no matter how farcical it sounded, chained him again.

Everyone's a slave to something.

The words of a dying man held true. Even Erwin, the man who shattered every obstacle and outfoxed every trap, was powerless to his desires, even in the face of death. That basement, a dank, mold-infested room destined to be trampled under the feet of Titans, was his master. The truth brought him to his knees, turned the man who'd towered over him that day in a corpse-strewn field into a whimpering mess. It'd serve him right if the only thing locked in that basement was a dust-covered stack of medical tomes filled with detailed diagrams showing how to attach leeches to your asshole.

The rest of the Scouts, too; they had to know they were helpless against four Titan shifters, maybe more, but they guzzled ale and gorged themselves on meat while cheering and belting out off-key battle hymns. He couldn't stomach it. So instead he'd skulked in a corner, eavesdropping on Eren, Armin, and Mikasa, the unbridled hope in Armin's voice when he spoke of the great endless span of water making Levi wonder if the boy had drunk his weight in ale. But a small part of him wished he was the same. They all looked forward while he stood with his back to the sun, searching desperately in darkness for meaning, a cold black abyss that stank of blood. Maybe there was the sea. In water, you could swim. But you could also drown.

What about you, he asked Katrine silently from his perch within the trees, shadows concealing his presence. When he'd heard her speaking to his three troublemakers, he'd known immediately where she was heading. She'd said something to Mikasa out of earshot. Was it that Mikasa was an Ackerman, a dog, and to never speak to her again? Or that it wasn't really true, it was some disgusting thing she'd made up to get back at him? Nothing felt right.

Ever since they'd returned from Mitras she'd come to the platform, tie on those odd pink slippers and make a half-hearted attempt at stretching, and then lie down and gaze up at the sky for hours. No movement, no sound. It was both a waste of his time and the desperate thought wriggling at the back of his mind whenever he couldn't find her in the dead of night. He always knew where she'd be, but he always had to check.

None of his guesses at her master made sense. Not her dancing, her intelligence, her beauty. Her reputation? Not anymore. No family, long gone like his, but without a lineage traced by outsiders and marked as subservient. Nothing shackled her, no leash chained to a collar around her neck. Beyond the endless chasm of differences that separated them, beyond his attempts to shove her even further away, the way she looked at him lacked the fear or disgust he'd come to expect from people like her–those who were free.

A rustle in the leaves caused both of them to jump; Levi flattened himself against a tree while Katrine sat up to meet the Scout bounding out of the woods and into the clearing.

"Hey, hey! Guess what we got!" It was her subordinate, the tall, dark-haired one. Mila? She still had the bright sheen that had been scoured off his own squad members' faces with the events of the past few months, even though they were about the same age.

"How'd you find this?" Katrine demanded.

"I got curious," Mila said casually. If it were Levi, she'd be on the ground for push-ups with that tone. "Guess!"

"A goat?" Her tone was resigned, like she'd decided against shooing her off. "Diamond earrings in a box with my name on it? A pair of Jean's sweaty underwear?"

"Ew, no," Mila protested. "Sherry! And it's Braxton's, the good kind."

Katrine made a show of surprise. "That stuff's expensive. What fool did Sara weasel it out of?"

"No, it was Elisabeth! She stole it off some high-ranking MP when you were in Mitras."

"Well, then," Katrine said, pride evident in her voice.

"You weren't at the feast," Mila said. "You missed out."

"I had some things to finish up." Katrine fiddled with the ribbons on her shoes. "How was it?"

"There was roast beef and spiced pork and ale!" Her excitement was obvious. Erwin sure knew what he was doing when he burned so much money on that. "And then Eren tried to beat up Jean but totally overestimated himself. He was going to get his teeth knocked in, but Captain Levi broke it up."

"Huh. Now I wish I'd gone." If breaking up a pointless argument between two hot-tempered drunks had turned out to be the highlight of the feast, then Levi was thankful Katrine hadn't been there.

"Might be some potatoes left. We can stop by on the way to Sara and Elisabeth."

"Oh, no, you three enjoy it." Katrine stood and lifted her knee to her chest to stretch her leg. "Sherry makes me nauseous."

"Come on," Mila whined.

"I have to practice."

"Practice sitting as still as a statue?" The girl wasn't wrong.

"I'm thinking."

"Fiii-ne." Drawing out the word, Mila exaggerated walking away. "We're going to gossip. About you and–"

"Wait," Katrine called out. "Do me a favor." She waved for Mila to join her on the stage. When she did, Katrine motioned for her to stop a few feet away. "Look at this. Tell me what's wrong with it."

And then, it happened. The cold stalk of her body bloomed. Her arms spread wide, one leg swinging behind her and she was aloft, silver hair catching the moonlight, defying the heavy hand of guilt that had smothered her ever since he'd stumbled upon her outside of Orvud. Levi found himself straightening, leaning forward, breath expanding and catching in his throat. His eyes remained peeled open, unwilling to miss any moment because this was what he was waiting for, hours of stillness and furtive breath waiting to witness the moment she raised her hand and stopped the flow of time.

And, just as quickly, her movement stilled, water frozen into ice. She bent over, wilting, resting her hands on her knees. "It's not right," she said, breath labored. "It hasn't been right for ages."

"What?" Mila squeaked, startling Levi. He'd forgotten she was there. "That was incredible!"

"No, the angle's off. If I had a mirror, I'd…" Katrine kneaded her forehead. "I can just feel it, something's off. Can't you tell?"

"I…I don't know what to tell you. I have no idea what to look for."

Katrine shook her head, her voice brightening. "Never mind. It's nothing. Don't get too soused, it's…it's a big day tomorrow." She knew, too.

"You sure?"

"Yes, yes." Her smile turned sly. "Use your liquid courage to tell Jean how gallant he was."

Mila mumbled a few weak protests, then dashed off the stage and onto the grass, her footsteps crunching into the dark woods. Levi's tensed shoulders relaxed. Never mind the fact that watching Katrine from a distance like a spider in a dusty corner was bad enough; eavesdropping was even worse. Checking and rechecking every supply list would barely be penance.

Katrine watched Mila disappear from view. Satisfied that she was alone again, she shook out her legs and raised her thumb to her mouth, gnawing at her fingernail. Levi settled back against the tree he'd chosen as his post. Her eyes narrowed, red lips tightening, and she bent her right leg, the left sweeping behind her in a grand arc. The trees fell away, along with the stage, tomorrow's mission, the earth.

A foreign gaze settled over Levi and his shoulders stiffened again, his body shifting toward the threat before he could realize what was happening. The world came into cruel focus again, sharpening around a single person. Mila. Standing amongst the trees fifty paces away, her eyes stretched wide, mouth gaping like a fish about to have its head chopped off. A curse bubbled in his throat. She was supposed to be too far away to see him, both her and Katrine! Mila's head swiveled to Katrine, then back to him. He could read the shock on her face morphing into understanding as if it were written in stark red lettering, the slight twitch of her smile a scream in his ear that she'd figured it out.

Levi screwed his face into the most threatening scowl he could manage and Mila jumped back a step, her smugness erased by fear, and she bolted away like a rabbit that caught sight of a wolf. His jaw clenched. Probably sprinting back to Trost to tell her squad.

He looked back at Katrine. Oblivious to his silent skirmish with Mila, she'd returned to sitting on the floor, bent over her legs and picking at the ribbons circling her ankles. He hadn't missed anything. His relief was shameful.

With a sigh and a quick shake of her head, she rose to her feet again. She lifted one hand above her and dipped her head, bent one knee, swept the other leg behind her. Her chest rose with her breath and he forgot it all, his mind cleared of cobwebs and the spiders lurking among them, that report and Kenny and the mission. He stepped forward, foolishly. A twig snapped beneath him.

Katrine's head shot up and for a hideous moment her icy blue gaze bore into him, through his shelter of trees and shadows and she knew, too, the reason why he waited with bated breath to watch her fly and remind him it was possible. He froze, stilling his breath, curling his hands into fists and digging his fingernails into his palms.

The tenuous hold shattered; Katrine hissed a curse and threw herself back on the floor, yanking at the ribbons on her slippers. Levi felt no relief at being unseen. He'd ruined it, again. He'd been right, all those months ago. He'd have crushed her, shards of glass scattered beneath his fist, pulverized into dust beneath his feet.

Silently Levi retreated into the shadows and slipped away to Trost. He'd already decided to trust Erwin's judgment. He should trust his own judgment, too, accept the decision he'd made to push her away, not succumb to her spell. That was all it was: an illusion, a distraction.

Kenny had always said to the only memory to keep was a grudge; anything else would sink you with its weight. Katrine was a rock tied to his back, ready to drown him. One day a torrent of cold water would rush around him, toppling him and dragging him down to its murky depths. It could be the end of him. But he wouldn't, or couldn't, find it within him to sever the ropes.

Anticipation crackled in Trost's cold morning air, shouts and commands floating over the Scouts rushing to complete their final preparations and settle into their ranks. To Katrine, it seemed like they were more excited about the mission than the coronation parade. Finished preparing her horse, she scanned through the list in her mind of everything she'd need. Maps, blades, grenades, serum–

"You don't think the snow caused any flooding, do you?" Reese, the quartermaster, appeared beside her, eying the bright blue sky as if his words would tempt it to dump rain on them. "Can't risk the carts getting stuck."

"Probably not," Katrine said. "But if it did, there's a way around." She moved to dig through the rolled-up maps in her saddlebag.

"Katrine!" Mila was suddenly hissing in her ear. "I need to talk to you about something!"

"What?" Katrine withdrew a map and unscrolled it. Wrong one. "You have all your supplies?"

"I'm fine. It's, uh…" She looked around nervously. "Can we go inside?"

"We're about to set off." Katrine shoved the scroll back and took out another. "Is it about the mission?"

"No, but–"

"Captain Casimir!" A young soldier, one of the new ones from the Garrison and obviously proud of how his voice carried, loomed over her. "Commander Smith requests your presence!"

Katrine thanked the boy, then assured Reese that the roads were going to be fine, and waited for the two of them to rush to their next tasks to turn back to Mila. "Sorry. It'll have to wait. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"You were busy!"

"I'm still busy!" Katrine cursed silently when she saw Mila's crestfallen face. "Look, you can tell me later. On the way back, after we've completed the mission. Can you do me a favor and bring my horse to the others?"

Mila muttered something under her breath but took her reins. Katrine pushed through the crowd to find Erwin stepping into one of the lifts beside the wall, Levi at his side.

"I'll give Eren, Mikasa, and Armin to you," Erwin said, waving her into the lift. "They're familiar with the surrounding terrain and will be able to recognize it in the dark."

Katrine nodded stiffly. He acted as if their conversation a few days ago had never happened, and she was content to leave it that way.

"Once we get to the outskirts, Eren needs to keep his hood up. He can't be seen," Levi said. "Make sure he doesn't take it off. He'll be like a damn horse who can't handle its blinders."

"Right," Katrine said, the lift shuddering beneath her as it began to move upward.

"Quite a crowd," Erwin said. "I don't think we're used to so many eyes on us."

He was right – most of the Scouts' expeditions drew a paltry crowd with little fanfare. But what seemed like the entire district had turned out for them. Their voices wafted up to her alongside the rest of the soldiers standing on the lifts. Some in the crowd stood with their hands pressed to their brows to shield their eyes; others pointed or waved. It was unsettlingly familiar, like she stood on the stage before a thousand eyes expecting to be awed. But as she saw individual faces, heard the shouting and cheering, her apprehension faded. This wasn't polite applause; it was excitement, awe, and hope, warmth washing over her like finding a pocket of sunlight streaming through the clouds. Some of them shouted out their thanks to Erwin for his bravery, to Levi and Hange for their efforts in Trost during the coup, and to Eren for his strength. What would they say about her? Nothing at all if she ran, only curses spat under their breath, a name to be trampled under their feet until it disintegrated into dust to be forgotten. But if she stayed, if she fought, flew high enough to clear away some of the clouds and let a little more sunlight warm them, too: what would they say then?

Wall Maria was fixed, and Katrine Casimir helped.