Mikasa spent a lot of her time swinging through the air, so she felt that she had a firm understanding of mass and momentum, that sort of forward-weight one sensed as they threw themselves forward above a narrow cobblestone street. The same weight was felt by any body in motion, be it an errantly-dropped waste bucket or a feather. She had learned at those awkward weeks in the training camps that it applied to swords as well, and had quickly become versed in their operation through the principle. In her time at the Grand Combat, she had further learned of the subtleties of momentum in swordfighting- how to press an attack with it, and how to defend against it. She had seen swords far larger than her own be slowed by the invisible bonds of inertia, and had watched Honey's razor-thin rapier move with uncanny speed. She had felt fairly confident as a duelist; not an expert, but certainly skilled enough. Her new opponent seemed to operate by different rules.

The mercenary known as Cloud carried a very large sword, at least as big as Nightmare's, though certainly much cleaner. Maybe Ryuko's funny-looking weapon was longer folded out, but it was thinner. It was flat and plain, a bit like her Paring Blades, but it was not segmented for clean breakage. It was not a weapon that had been designed to break. Its hilt was as thick as a small tree, and as long as the fancy loaves of bread the banker's children would parade along the street. It was monstrous, yet it moved as if it were much smaller. He swung it two-handed, each strike violently transformed into the next. It hit with all the force of a blade of its size, too, so its girth was no illusion. Mikasa only felt safe blocking the attacks behind both of her Paring Blades at once, crossed over each other just above the hilt. A shift in his shoulders was the only warning she received that the next attack would come from the left, which she barely managed to repel with her crossed swords. As soon as his gigantic weapon began to move away, she decided to test his defenses. She opened her right arm outward, guiding her sword to his undefended abdomen. Cloud responded swiftly, and planted the broad side of the huge sword between the Paring Blade and his body.

"Clever," he grunted.

Mikasa did not need his compliments, she needed him to die. His lips had not yet finished forming the word when she began to move her left-hand weapon around the far edge of his shield-like sword, intent on digging the sharp end into his side. But Cloud again demonstrated the unnatural speed at which he could convince his blade to move, using a circular motion of the wrist to knock both her right and left swords away. He followed this by hopping a short distance backward, which the scout found an odd response for someone who probably held the upper hand between them.

"You've lost something, haven't you?"

It was not the sort of thing Mikasa had expected him to say.

"Excuse me?"

"There's something you're missing. I can see it, in your face. You don't look angry, just… bitter."

"What?"

"I could be wrong." He lifted his sword over his shoulder and clipped it to a harness along his back. Mikasa would have taken this as an opportunity to attack, but she was stunned by his words. "I've just seen myself with the same look in my eye."

"M-maybe," she said. "But I'm past that. I'm fighting for the good of humanity."

"Are you? That's a tall order." His eyes glowed under the shadow of his stupid-looking hair. His mouth didn't fold up at the sides like he was making fun of her. "It's not that I don't think you can, it's that I don't think your heart's in it."

"What are you talking about?"

"To have your number one motivation be helping others, that's great. But you can't really do that when you're caught up in a struggle inside yourself."

"Eren," she whispered. "I want to fight for humanity... and I want Eren back."

"But to fight for humanity? That means putting yourself last. Whatever it is that you want… it can't stand in the way of that. In this mixed-up place the only thing you can count on is a halfway-decent motivation. So you've got to pick one or the other."

"But… how am I supposed to figure that out?"

"Spend some time soul-searching, or something. No kid your age deserves to have that look on your face. You're too young to be uncertain like that."

"Why are you talking to me about this? How is this your problem?"

"Because that's my motivation," he answered. "To make sure nobody else needs to live a life as messed-up as mine."

Mikasa's grip on her swords tightened. "I can make my own decisions. The reason I have for gutting you won't make a difference. You'll die either way."

"If that's how it has to be," shrugged Cloud, lifting his arms from his sides and curling his fingers into fists. A pulse of green light traveled from his sword's hilt over his shoulders, down his body and into his waiting arms. He pushed forward on the air, opened his hands, and from between them leapt a white-hot, jagged arc of electricity. Mikasa's swords were like lightning rods, and proved to be excellent conductors. Her body convulsed and fell backwards, awkwardly suspended by the 3DMG's long boxes.

Cloud unclipped his sword from his back and swung it to his side as he approached the limp girl. The Lightning Materia had been very effective, as he had predicted. He did wonder if his own sword would also have made him vulnerable to a spell like Bolt. Most probably, he concluded. He was lucky that he had not seen many others use lightning magic.

"Are you awake?" She didn't answer.

He didn't like his team spreading out like this. He was used to fighting in a small, tight group- there was strength in numbers. But Poppy must have had a reason to let the other team split off and fight them one-on-one. She had a reason for everything. Though the way she had acted after meeting the other team would seem to indicate that she might have moved beyond reason. Whatever the case may be, he should do as he was told. He raised his sword above his head, closed his eyes, and brought it back down. Nothing slowed the blade as it plunged into the earth.

Silently, Mikasa shoved a Paring Blade into the man's side. He had made his potential weaknesses obvious- he clearly stated that he cared about others, and had expressed concern for her. Underneath his cold exterior, he was compassionate to a fault. Mikasa knew that a weakness left unexploited was a crime against survival, and she intended to survive. Getting struck by lightning had hurt immensely, and still did- her swords had burned themselves into her hands. She had not lost consciousness, and had spent the last minute suppressing any signs of agony. Her muscles had clamped down over her heaving lungs, forcing them into slow, steady movements instead of the gulps of air they so desperately wanted to take. Her willpower had paid off, as Cloud had closed his eyes before trying to kill her- an opportunity to escape. She had hopped to her feet, a difficult task considering how numb they were, and stepped to the side. He missed, and she stabbed him. Having accomplished her task, she allowed her screaming lungs to suck in air as they wanted.

"Erk," coughed Cloud. Mikasa tore her sword back out, and actually collapsed, falling forward onto her knees. She could not feel them, nor her arms, but she could feel the ebbing, aching pain from her seared skin, fused to her weapons' hilts. It had been a costly victory, but worth it, she surmised. She could still fight, even if not well; she could help her team as a distraction or a corporeal shield. Mikasa felt tears involuntarily gush from her eyes. She carefully guided a numb arm towards her face and wiped her cheeks clean. Though her cleared vision, she saw that the man had not yet fallen.

"Still… alive?" she gasped.

"Yeah," he grunted, pulling his hand away from his bloodied side. "I'm not… going down just yet."

Mikasa felt her uncontrollable tears burn against new scars on her cheeks, briefly distracting her from the sinking feeling in her chest. Her opponent was not dead, and likely could take much more punishment. She, on the other hand, felt as though she was dying, and she probably was.

I can't give up. My team still needs me. And I won't let this guy tell me what to do. Even if I can't feel my limbs, they still work. I will kill him.

Mikasa unsteadily rose to her feet, aiming her swords toward her opponent with stinging hands. Her fingers, melted over her 3DMG's triggers, squeezed shut. The gas turbine strapped to her waist spooled up, propelling her forward. She was not ready to let her journey have gone to waste.

Cloud was surprised that the girl had any energy left in her. He was also surprised that her harness' machinery still worked after an electrical attack like that. It must have been analogue. His Buster Sword knocked her thin blades away again, and he prepared his counterattack. He resolved to finish the fight quickly, for both of their sakes. He swung his weapon back down with his full strength, but Mikasa miraculously failed to falter. Her swords, however, did, shattering against the weight of the gigantic blade.

Upon her swords breaking, Mikasa saw Cloud's eyes light up, more so than they already did. He thought that victory was close. He was wrong. She smacked the hilts against the sides of the 3DMG's boxes to rid them of excess bits of metal, before shoving them into the rack of spares that protruded from the front of each box. Even without the nerves in her arms, muscle memory did not fail her, and she drew her fresh blades in time to block another strike from the gigantic slab of steel that the mercenary called a sword. Stress marks began to crack along the surface of the Paring Blades, as Cloud was evidently hitting harder than he had before.

Wait… that's it. That's how I can beat him.

Instead of blocking Cloud's next attack, Mikasa rolled sideways. She clamped down on the triggers of her 3DMG and fired the gas fan, letting her dart behind her opponent. She jammed her left Paring Blade into the ground to cut a tight turn, letting her face Cloud's back. With a squeeze of the other triggers, she fired the system's anchors through the back of Cloud's elbows.

Cloud out a surprised snarl as he tried to turn around, but he was too late. Mikasa flicked back on the triggers, and the 3DMG drew him backward by the arms onto her waiting right-hand sword. She ripped her hand off of her left-hand weapon, and guided her bloody fingers to the straps and buttons that locked the device onto her body. Eventually, she peeled her hand off of the second blade, and slipped out of the system. It continued to retract, binding Cloud's arms to his back, unable to remove the sword protruding from his chest. Mikasa staggered backwards, the pain in her hands overwhelming. She had won.

"N-not… bad," wheezed the man, falling backwards. "But… I… could keep… going…"

"No," hissed Mikasa, wrapping her bleeding hands in her scarf. "You won't."

"Yeah… you're… right," he sighed, slumping to the ground. "What's with… the moon?"

Mikasa looked up, and found the satellite hanging conspicuously large in the sky for the middle of the day.

"It's big," she replied. She walked to his side, and wrenched the massive sword from his hands.

"Hey… where… are you going… with that?" he called as she walked away. "Could… you just… let me out… of this? I… give… up!"

"No," she called back, dragging the Buster Sword behind her as she walked towards the town.