Verity

The sunset was breathtaking. Blood-red hue mixed with deep blue of the clear skies and the saturation of the fading light broke through the rare wisps of white near the horizon. I would've stopped to appreciate the beauty were it any other day. I would have closed my eyes, as I lay in the tall grass and breathed in the clean forest air, enjoying the scents of the late blooming flowers, and the rare yellowed leaves that have covered the ground over the course of the past few weeks.

But it wasn't one of those days. And as I stared at the bleeding horizon, all I could think of was my betrayal. Of Kenny, of the Scouts Corps, of my deceased teammates, of Captain. My Captain.

The guilt swamped me, and I could feel myself falling with no bottom in sight. The need to fix this felt more necessary than air in my lungs. It burned like venom running through my veins, straining every muscle in pain. I wish it would have numbed me to the point where I could think clearly. Instead, my heart raced and my thoughts mashed together, indistinguishable from the clear desperation I could practically taste.

It hurt. Realizing what I'd done struck me with each breath I took, stinging pains spreading over my chest. I couldn't look at the Captain. I couldn't face Hange, or Eren, or the rest of my team. All I could do was stare at the setting sun and a group of MP soldiers storming into our cabin.

I'd done it. It was all my fault. I followed Kenny's commands and in doing so, hurt so many people. Was I the reason behind Petra's and others' deaths? Was I the reason for Trost to be crushed to debris by the Female Titan? Was I the sole reason for my misery?

Yes. And I couldn't even regret doing so.

I was helping the only person who had ever cared for me. He took over the role of my father, in the good meaning of the word. I was simply keeping my promise to him in return for so much good he'd done me. I did the right thing, didn't I? Following his orders and standing by him even when the opposite side showed enough care for me to doubt my reasoning. They were deceitful. Kenny'd warned me about that. And I thought I was ready. That is until Petra and the rest had won me over. Until the Captain had pushed me to fight back and called me a friend, while my heart went a million miles per hour with the burning need to please him. Similar to how I'd felt with Kenny before.

But it was somehow different with the Captain. The heat that settled in the bottom of my stomach and the tingling in every inch of skin he'd touched were nothing I'd ever felt before. It was intoxicating and painfully strong, leaving me wanting more. Like a sting of the knife breaking my skin in my lowest of lows, it brought a sick pleasure to my heart, putting my mind at ease. Captain's closeness was something I should've never played with. Because now that I'd known that feeling, I couldn't just forget it. I should have kept my distance. I should have been smarter than this.

I should have never fallen for an enemy.

I grabbed my head with both hands, running fingers through my messy braid. I didn't know what to think anymore. I didn't know what to do. The urgent need to scream scratched at the back of my throat and I swallowed hard, shutting my eyes against the silly wish. A warm touch landed on my shoulder, and it took everything in me not to flinch away. I instantly knew who it was — it couldn't have been anyone but him.

"You alright?" He asked in that raspy voice of his, and a shiver I couldn't fight ran down my arm from where he'd touched me. Removing my hands, I nodded, planting a fake half-smile on my face, hoping it would look at least somewhat believable. I met his gaze, and he squinted, studying my face. I knew he could tell something was off.

"That was close," Conny interrupted, coming to stand close to us, and Captain's hand fell off my shoulder, leaving a cold spot in its stead. "What if they had caught us? Would they rip our nails off too?"

I flinched at his question. I didn't want to think what Kenny's accomplices would do if they caught us. But I would be lying if I said that it wasn't possible.

"How did Commander Erwin know they were headed here?" Armin asked, aiming his question at the Captain.

"The government's passed down some new orders. There's been a freeze on all Scout activity outside the wall. We're to hand over Eren and Historia," Captain's voice sounded serious but constrained, tired more than angry.

"Captain, I didn't have time to tell you," Nifa — the red-haired girl from Hange's team — started, "some MPs came for the commander right after I left him."

"What?" Hange yelped, twisting to face her. "Like he is some kind of criminal?"

"They're bringing this fight out into the open. No more working from the shadows." Captain said, frowning.

"They're going to protect the Walls' secrets at any cost. But why? And what exactly are they after Eren and Historia for? They don't want them dead, so what are they planning?" Hange asked, exasperation filling her voice.

"Who knows? But they want these two, and they're not being subtle about it. Which makes lingering here dangerous. We'll move Eren and Historia to Trost," the Captain said and everyone gasped.

"We're taking them to the same district where Pastor Nick was just murdered?" Moblit — another guy from Hange's squad — asked, voicing everyone's concerns.

"Heading toward the interior would be worse. With Trost in a panic, it should be easy to slip in. And if things go all to hell, we can use these in the city," Captain opened his cloak, gesturing towards his ODM gear, tightly secured to his thighs. "We don't know the identity of our enemy yet. I have an idea of how we can change that. Hange, I'll need you to lend me some of your squad."

"No problem," she replied, rubbing her chin, deep in thought. "All right, I'm going after Commander Erwin. Moblit with me. The rest of you will go with Levi."

"Roger!" Her team saluted, and Hange gave me a small nod before turning away and mounting her horse.

My gaze shifted from her to the cabin. We left just hours ago. My decision would hurt her, too. It would sever all the ties with these people I've come to trust and rely on. It would ruin everything but the one thing I'd treasured since I murdered my captor back in the Underground.

My loyalty to Kenny.

We were walking for hours now, and no matter how I usually enjoyed a casual stroll or a run through the woods, this felt anything but that. My stomach twisted at every moving shadow between the trees. Every crunch of a tree branch or a rummaging through the underbrush made the hairs on my arms stand on end. It was as though I was waiting for Kenny himself to jump out and point his finger at me, calling me a traitor and successfully ruining this charade I'd been playing for weeks.

As if sensing my unrest, the Captain walked by my side. His hand occasionally brushed against mine, and no matter the gloves I wore, the bitter-sweet shiver spread over my arm every time. Everyone kept quiet, except for the episodic bickering or a swear when someone tripped over a sticking root or got hit by a swinging twig. Yet the silence never weighed more. I could practically feel it pressing on my chest, making my breathing shallow. I was wheezing by the time we finally reached the outskirts of Trost, and the first street lights finally evaporated the deep shadows, playing tricks on my mind.

We made it through the inner gates and just about two blocks into the city, when the Captain pulled at my sleeve, jerking me to a stop. He nodded to everyone else to continue walking, and once they were out of earshot, he leaned in and spoke in a quiet voice: "What's wrong?"

I gulped, unnerved by his closeness. I couldn't meet his eyes, but avoiding his gaze would seem suspicious. So I forced my eyes to travel his face, stopping at his chin. "Nothing is wrong. Outside of us being chased out by the government, of course."

"Then why won't you look at me?" Air froze in my lungs at his question. Did I dare to? I didn't feel like I deserved to look at him; to stay close; to call myself his friend. Forcing my eyes up, I met his gaze. His expression was what most would describe as scowling, but I knew better. The usual angry frown he wore was deeper when he worried about something. His mouth was tight, and his eyes, no matter the tired look, spoke of concern. A stub of guilt that drove through my chest could've killed a 10-meter titan.

I didn't answer his question. There were no words that would've fixed everything. I'd already betrayed him, and he was yet to find that out. I'd already chosen sides, no matter my inner turmoil. There wasn't anything that would undo my actions. Some decisions were just that irreversible; some pains — unforgivable; some doings — inconceivable.

I shook my head finally, slowly coming to terms with what awaited me. Us. Giving Captain what I hoped was a reassuring smile, I stepped away, forcing the edge of my sleeve out of his grasp and following the rest of my team, while I tried to sign off the stinging in my eyes to the road dust flying in the air like the first snow.

The crowd wasn't big, but it definitely seemed unusual for this hour. As we made it through the square, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, cheers sounded all around, people drowning themselves in drinks. I could hear a few yells praising the king, which made little sense to me. Did we miss some big news or something?

Dispersing through the groups of people, we walked in a line; the Captain leading our squad. I pulled my hood lower hoping to hide away from all the drunk stares. Men were everywhere. Their laughter and occasional disgusting comments made my skin crawl. I had to remind myself that I was strong now. I could fight back.

Just when I was avoiding a group of drunks standing around a metal cocktail table, crooked to the eye, someone crashed into my shoulder. Before I could panic and shove the intruder away, something round and heavy slid into my palm, and his hand forced mine closed. I jerked my head up, staring at the smirking stranger. He raised his hands in surrender and said, his words overly sluggish and slurred: "I'm sorry, milady. I've lost my balance. Maybe it was because of your stunning beauty." He winked then, and walked away, easily making his way through the crowd, not once stumbling on his feet.

Tearing my gaze from his retreating form, I looked forward, watching the rest of my team making it farther through the crowd. Fisting my palm, I walked the other way, hiding behind one of the drinking groups. There was a small scrunched-up piece of paper in my hand, tied with a linen cord to a pebble stone for additional weight. I pulled at the paper, freeing it from the thread, and straightened it.

Keep them in Trost until noon.

Good job.

K.

Clumping the note in my fist, I closed my eyes. I had to push against the doubt and follow his orders. There was no way back now.

No matter how much I wished otherwise.

The warehouse was deadly silent. The occasional snore or an overly loud snuffle sounded like a gunshot. My nerves were so tight that with every subtle noise, I grabbed at the rifle, coming dangerously close to pulling a trigger at my own shadow in the dead of night.

Taking a deep breath, I forced my muscles to relax and moved the rifle to the side. The hangar doors were a left ajar, so I could perfectly hear what was going on inside, while staying on the lookout in the street. I'd volunteered for it, knowing too well that I wouldn't be able to shut my eyes even for a second. So instead, I was left alone in the street coated by deep shadows and battling my thoughts; all the what-ifs driving me crazy.

I unsheathed my hunting knife, playing with it as I contemplated everything for a millionth time. Turning it in my fingers, just as I saw Captain do before, I got momentarily lost in the sparkling moonlight dancing on the polished metal of the blade, that I nearly missed the approaching footsteps. Glancing up at the Captain, I watched him take a seat on the pavement near me. His eyes bore into mine and I had to look away, afraid of losing all sense and just telling him everything I never could. A long moment passed, and no matter my nerves, I felt myself relax into the brick wall of the warehouse — Captain's presence doing that magic of his.

"I know what you want to ask, and I'm afraid the only answer I have, you already know," I offered him, my eyes glued to the dagger dancing between my fingers. He reached over then and snatched the knife, his hand just barely brushing mine. My skin sang in anticipation, hot shivers rushing up and down my spine.

"You are more closed off than before. Almost like when you'd just joined the team," he said, twisting the blade in his hands. It spun just over his knuckles, doing turn after turn, effortless and captivating. It almost took away the sting from his words left in my heart.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing again?" He stopped the knife, grabbing it by the handle in a backwards grip. I could feel his eyes on me again, and a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I was so tired of lying. I just wanted to come clean and be done with this. I wanted to leave all this behind and build myself a future. Walls, did I want one specific future…

"We should leave Trost," I said, and instantly cringed. Was I really making this decision now? Was I going to come clean and put this all behind me? Betray Kenny?

"We can't. The plan is in place. We will exchange Eren and Historia with Jean and Armin tomorrow morning. We need to know who we are against." He sent the blade spinning again, and my eyes glued to the sparkling metal.

I couldn't tell him anything. Yet, I could convince him to get out of Trost and then lie to Kenny that I couldn't keep the team here. A tinder of hope burned in my chest and I faced the Captain, catching his gaze. "Please, I don't like this. I just… I have a feeling everything will go south. We have to leave Trost. Now."

He studied my face intently for a long moment, his scowl deepening. He twisted the knife one more time before catching it by the blade and offering me my weapon back. I grabbed the handle, inwardly pleading for him to listen to me, to read between the lines. To forgive me.

"And where would we go? Scout's regiment is effectively beheaded. We can't operate, our HQ is probably swarmed by MPs. If we don't face this now, Eren and Historia will end up in our enemy's hands, and the rest of us…" He trailed off, tearing his eyes away from mine, and looking into the starry night sky. "You have to trust me, Verity. This will not work without trust."

My chest contorted in pain, and I leaned my back against the brick wall again and stared into the sky just as the Captain did. There was no hope. And there would soon be no trust.

If only I could go back in time and change some things I'd done. If only I knew which of those should I be changing.

Levi

"King Fritz has heard of the hardships in Trost. He is donating the royal family's reserves," a soldier yelled from a small podium in the middle of a square. I rolled my eyes and continued forward. The hypocrisy of this offer was not lost on me. "Form a line. There is plenty to go around."

"Oh, thank goodness!" someone in the crowd yelled. "Long live King Fritz!"

"All that food and he's just giving it away?" Sasha asked from behind me.

"It's not as if he needs it all." I glanced at the crowd, fighting to get to the give-aways. Like a pack of starving street dogs. It would be pathetic if it wasn't sad. "Easier to control people when they're not starving."

Glancing behind me, I spotted Verity at the very end of our formation. She looked jumpy, and kept swinging her head around, as if searching for someone in the crowd. I knew she was worried about this plan. She'd grown close to Eren, and I knew she would protect him with all her might. Funny how I used to distrust her in the beginning. I guess even the best of hounds can lose the right trail. Watching her so on edge, looking out for the entire team, trying to spot an enemy in every stranger in the crowd, made me feel ashamed. I should've trusted Hange from the very beginning. Four-eyes was never wrong about these things. Not that I would ever tell her that.

An approaching rumbling caught my attention, and I strained my neck, looking in the direction it was coming from. A carriage was running our way at full speed. No doubt with a goal in mind. "Behind us! Look out!" I yelled, and everyone jumped out of the way. Two men leaned out of the carriage and grabbed for Eren and Historia, shoving them inside, just as the vehicle speeded through the square and onto the side street.

This plan would work. Now we just needed to follow the wagon.

Mikasa landed softly on the rooftop of a warehouse a couple of feet away. She looked somewhat distraught, but quickly collected herself upon seeing me.

"How's everything going inside?" I asked, moving my gaze to the streets below.

"If we wait very much longer, they'll see through Armin's disguise. He's… getting pawd at."

"I see."

"How's your leg? Any better?" Mikasa asked after a brief pause. I rubbed at my thigh, where only a sprinkle of pain remained.

"I can move well enough." Removing my hand, I looked at her. "Now then, did you notice? These kidnappers are obviously rank amateurs. Why wouldn't they use professionals for a job like this?" This question had gnawed at me for the last hour. It just didn't add up. I had to go check on the real Eren. This could indeed go south, just as Verity'd predicted. "You can handle the rest on your own. I'm gonna make my way to Eren. Come and meet up with me when you're done taking out the trash here."

I stood up just as Mikasa saluted and readied to jump from the roof. "There is one more thing you should know. Just in case. Tell Armin and the others too," I said, standing on the very edge of the rooftop. "As of now, it's not just titans. We are fighting humans, too."

They were positioned on the roof of the tallest house, both watching the stuck carriage with a real Eren and Historia inside. The driver kept yelling at the people blocking the street, occasionally waving at them with agitated gestures. I landed on the roof and kneeled close to Verity, nodding to her and Nifa in greeting.

"Well?" I asked, watching Verity drop her face and hide behind the strands of her hair.

"The road's crowded, but we've seen nothing unusual. It's not far to Commander Pyxis' from here, so I think we're good, but how's the body double mission?" Nifa asked, her eyes jumping from me to the carriage and back.

I faced the street, frowning at the gathered people. "A success."

"You don't seem very pleased about that," Nifa noted.

"I'm not."

Watching the driver wave his hands angrily, I couldn't help the feeling of wrongness that struck me. Something was definitely off. Military police couldn't be behind this abduction. They were too careful of their reputation to use amateurs like these. It felt more like if they'd known the wagon would be followed and the support team wouldn't be far behind.

This rang a bell in my head, long forgotten memories coming in hot. Kenny teaching me how to break someone's jaw and how to operate a knife. Him explaining and showing different ambush techniques, highlighting pros and cons of each. The man was a mad fucker, but I was still grateful for some of the stuff he'd taught me. Somehow, this abduction maneuver seemed familiar. As if it was a foggy dream I couldn't quite remember.

"Captain, the wagon's almost on the move again," Nifa said, jerking me out of my thoughts. Verity leaned forward, closer to the ridge, frowning at the starting carriage.

"Have you heard of Kenny the Ripper?" I asked no one in particular, mostly just placing this thought out in the open. As if it could help me solve this dilemma. Verity jerked her head to me, and her eyes found mine. The look of pure shock took over her face, and her eyes searched mine, as if looking for answers to some questions I didn't know I should be asking.

"That mass murderer in the Capital? The one who slit the throats of over a hundred MPs? I thought he was just an urban legend," Nifa interjected, chuckling slightly. But my eyes didn't leave Verity's. Her bottom lip trembled, and she bit down on it, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Have you?" I pushed, studying Verity's face. She averted her gaze, looking at the wagon again, and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear in a comforting gesture. She shut her eyes for a moment, as if readying for something unpleasant. "I have. But I don't see how this situation can be related to him," her voice sounded clinically emotionless. I frowned. She'd lied to me just now. I could tell.

"I lived with him, back when I was a kid," I offered, and Verity took the bait. Her head snapped in my direction once again, her mouth hanging open.

"What?" she asked, breathless.

I didn't reply, mulling over her reactions and the whole situation. Kenny wouldn't care about using amateurs. If he had been behind all this, he would have had the team trailing the wagon from both rear angles. They'd choose a spot high up. Somewhere with a clear line of sight.

But if he had really been behind all this, he would do all in his powers to have someone on the inside.

Please, tell me I'm wrong.

"Captain, I…" Verity started and paused. Taking a deep breath she removed a glove from her right hand. She then reached over, and her cold as ice fingers interlaced with mine. She looked scared, and when her eyes met mine again, I could see the deep hurt burning behind the shaky facade. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice quivering. But before I could confront her, footsteps sounded at the farthest edge of the roof's pitch. I twisted, facing the intruder. And just like that, a ghost from my past had shown its ugly face.

Kenny stood there, looking smugly and pointing his guns at us. Before I could come to terms with what I was seeing, he shot. I leaned down, pulling Verity with me as I went. But there was no need, as the bullet was not meant for one of us.

Nifa's lifeless body sprawled over the ridge, a single bullet hole at the back of her skull, the blood spilling from it and onto the shingles. Her limbs still trembled with a leftover impulse. Drops of her blood covered my cloak, and I could feel some on my face as well. Rage boiled inside of me.

"Long time, Levi. Still a runt, or have you grown some?" Kenny asked in a mocking tone, stepping closer and recharging his pistol with what looked like a small gas canister. His eyes moved from me to Verity. She was staring at Nifa's body, with the back of her head to me, unmoving. "Great job, Verity," Kenny praised, and she flinched at his words. Nodding, she slowly got to her feet, holding her head low, and avoiding my eyes.

I'd known what he was about to say even before he did. I'd finally put two and two together. Verity's sudden wish to transfer from MP her attempts at keeping everyone at arm's length; her occasional disappearances; all the lies that came spilling out of her mouth. She'd played everyone: Hange, Erwin, my entire team, myself included. She'd played victim this whole time, while working for Kenny and providing him with all the information I'd entrusted her with. She'd fooled me like a fucking baby.

The cracking pain in the middle of my chest dimmed in comparison with the burning rage. My eyes glued to her down-turned face. Tears streamed freely, dropping from her chin to the Scout's uniform that she didn't deserve. And her act had never felt hollower. How could I not see it before? Fake vulnerability and her quiet reserve, running away and cutting her own arms — it all screamed deceit. How could I have been so blind? How could I fall to trust someone so fake? Call them a friend?

Grinding my teeth, I watched Verity finally raise her head and meet my hating stare. Her eyes clouded with tears, still running freely down her face. I might have felt a pinch at my heart if only I didn't know it was all an act. "All this time?" I rasped, stalling on the decision I didn't want to make. I had to kill her. She was my enemy. Always had been. Even when my heart had different ideas.

She closed her eyes, choking on tears, and swallowed hard. "I never meant for everything to end like this," she said, but there were no words that could fix this. There was nothing that could undo what she'd done. Nothing that could regain my trust. To soothe the hurt of betrayal.

"You've got to be joking," I croaked, discarding her and shifting my gaze to Kenny. His smile widened.

"Go, darling. You've done what I needed you to. Now let the two of us settle the old score," Kenny's voice dipped to a low rumble, like a purring of a happy house cat. It disgusted me. I felt nauseous as I took a last look at Verity.

"I was right after all," I said, and she flinched at my words. Her shoulders slumped and more tears ran down her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, barely audible, and jumped off the roof, leaving me alone with Kenny the Ripper.

"Don't look like you've changed much at all, boy," Kenny said, jumping forward. He pulled another trigger on his gun, and the cords, much like from my ODM, flew out, sending him into the air. He aimed at me while he twisted in his flight.

I unsheathed my swords, steeling my blazing fury and faced him, screaming at the top of my lungs:

"Kenny!"