Year 850, Spring

"Pay attention, since this is going to be the new standard issue for the cannons," Norman said.

Members of the Engineering Corps had been gathered onto the rooftop courtyard to get their first look at the cannon modifications to be installed. Norman would be selecting a few of these members to load up the required parts and head to the outposts along Wall Rose to update the cannons in and around Trost District. Even those who weren't going to be selected had to take a look since they (in theory) needed to be familiar enough with the cannons to fire them if necessary.

"The smallest modification, but the one that makes the biggest improvement, is the addition of a sight," Norman said. He used a pencil to tap the tiny glass and metal object atop the barrel of the cannon. "Artillery soldiers will now be able to fire with approximately 40% more accuracy than before. This will bring the Titan's kill rate up substantially, so keeping the sight in proper adjustment is paramount. The outposts will be equipped with a number of replacements; soldiers there will be trained on how to properly alter the sight. You can see here it's designed to slide up and down by turning this knob – this allows soldiers to make adjustments based on the height and distance of a Titan. Any questions so far?"

The group remained silent. There was one member who almost always had some snide remark or another, but thankfully said soldier was standing toward the back of the group without making a peep.

"Right then," Norman continued. "There'll be more detail in the diagrams and your individual scheduled training. Moving on – you can see the cannons are being transferred onto entirely new bases. These bases have three major improvements – they're easier to take on and off the track, can swivel all the way around, and the barrels now have a range of motion of ninety degrees either up or down. You can imagine how useful this'll be when it comes to targeting Titans which get right against the wall. The Technical Department has also taken into consideration the ability to fire on a Titan taller than the wall itself, or ones that may make it through the wall."

The expressions of Norman's subordinates were grim. They shared sideways glances as if uncertain if they'd missed some crucial piece of information concerning the likelihood of another wall being breached. It was a concept Norman didn't like to linger on.

"I'll make my selections for the maintenance crew based on your skill sets," Norman said, reining in everyone's attention. "However, if there's anyone who'd like to volunteer, I can also take that into consideration. Be aware this is an assignment which will take you atop the wall in areas of active Titan activity. You shouldn't be in any imminent danger, but keep in mind there is risk involved."

It came as no surprise when no one raised their hand. Anyone with a desire to fight Titans landed themselves in a division which couldn't be more than opposite the Engineering Corps. Members of the Engineering Corps were happy to be branded cowards if it meant actually making it to old age.

"Alright," Norman said, "myself or Officer Jansden will inform you shortly of your one-on-one training slots. This cannon is going to remain here for future training purposes. You are permitted to inspect it at any time, but anything other than an inspection will require authorization. I suggest familiarizing yourselves with the reports beforehand. Dismissed."

Norman joined the tail end of the crowd as they turned toward the only door for the stairs. His gait slowed as he regarded the one person who hadn't moved an inch.

Celine was staring at the cannon. Blood flowed over the fingers she had balled into a fist, forming a pool at her feet.

The sight caused Norman to come to a stop and look down with a furrow to his brow. Officer Jansden was holding the door, but Norman signaled him to go on ahead with a wave. Celine and Norman were soon the only people left on the rooftop.

"I'm sorry, Bodt."

Like many times he spoke to Celine, it was hard to say if she was listening.

"Not every improvement they made was an idea of yours," Norman said, following Celine's gaze back to the cannon. "I certainly recognized the diagrams they copied for the reports. The sight and the barrel rotation … those were yours. I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm very impressed."

"I should kill them."

Norman raised an eyebrow as Celine bared her teeth.

"Those bastards," she continued. "Those modifications were over a year of work. Observing, designing … me getting tossed up and down the side of that fucking wall … When I heard nothing back, I figured they'd tossed our proposals. This is worse."

Placing his hand on Celine's shoulder caused her to flinch.

"The members of the Technical Department are certainly at fault for not recognizing your work," Norman said. "Keep in mind your effort was seen by someone ; multiple someones. In the future, one of them may be in a position where you can properly be recognized, so don't go around burning every bridge you see. In the end, you still contributed to helping humanity as a whole. Every life saved because of the modifications made to the cannons can be attributed back to you."

Norman took a step back when Celine suddenly threw her head up to the sky.

"I'll make you see me!" she shouted. "You won't have a choice! I'll prove to you I'm worth more than you thought!"

An amused smile was stuck to Norman's face when Celine glanced his way. It was the first time he'd ever had the notion that she wasn't an eyesore.

"Let's get you cleaned up, Bodt," he said with a tilt to his head. This was met with a sigh, but there was no resistance as Celine followed him inside.

A mug of ale was set before Celine with a clunk. She didn't raise her head from the table. There were other patrons in the crowded bar who also had their heads down; Celine was the only one that was stone-cold sober.

"This just means the next proposal needs to be flashier!" Hange said. She plopped down on the long bench beside Celine with another mug in hand. "The Titan baiting traps look eye-catching enough – no one could say no to a cluster of giant spikes over six meters high!"

Celine only groaned.

"You should volunteer to maintain the cannons," Hange said, unperturbed. She took a swig of her drink and let out a satisfied exhale. "I'll take you up there with my patrols and we can strategize."

"I don't want to ride up there with you," Celine said. The thought of past times she'd ridden with Hange was enough to leave her dizzy. "I'm not going to die because I leaned over the edge of the wall to vomit and then tumbled into the mouth of a Titan."

Hange shook her head and took a sip of her drink. "You're so sensitive."

Celine sat up with a frown. "I'm not sensitive – your piloting just sucks."

"We'll agree to disagree!" Hange said as she tossed an arm around Celine's shoulders.

It took nearly a year to get to the point where Hange could commit this gesture without Celine fighting her off. Celine possessed a higher-than-average tolerance for Hange's quirks due to her innate curiosity to unpack the puzzle of why Hange was … Hange. However, this tolerance had initially reached a limit when it came to Hange's tendency to try to foster a sense of kinship through physical contact and unexpected visits. Some would say Hange's tenacity over the months had been like a sculptor chipping away at a block of marble to reveal something splendid; Celine would say she'd been selected as a subject in a science experiment.

Over time an arrangement had been struck – Celine would endure the occasional embrace and the not-so-occasional unexpected visit, and Hange would (sometimes) talk about something other than Titans. It was a balance about as stable as a calf on a frozen pond, but the pair made do.

Today Celine was in a particularly bad mood; Hange was certain the equal-and-opposite reaction to her action would be Celine shoving her away in a grandiose display. It came as a surprise when her companion reacted in an uncharacteristically docile manner as she dipped her head and leaned into the embrace.

"Now, now," Hange said, feeling a little guilty for trying to get a rise out of Celine. "This isn't the end by a long shot. We'll come up with something that'll force them to acknowledge our talent for sure! We already went through the process of creating a notable proposal – with the outline already built, getting our next idea out won't take half as long!"

"Can we not talk about work?" Celine mumbled.

Hange let out a sigh in disappointment. She gave the crown of Celine's head a pat in an absent-minded manner as her eyes wandered around the bustling establishment. It was a little difficult to think with so much distraction, but she eventually landed on a topic that brought an eager smile to her face. "Do you remember what I was telling you the other day when I came across–"

"If this is about your theories on Titan reproduction," Celine said, cutting her short. "I'll drown you in your cup."

The sound of Hange clearing her throat wouldn't have fooled anyone as being genuine.

"That wasn't it," Hange said. "And I'm surprised you're uninterested – the members of the Special Operations Squad found it captivating."

Celine lifted her head. She leaned forward to pick up her mug, "You can't fool me into believing there's anyone else who will listen to your ramblings."

"They listen!" Hange said, prickling. "Levi told them it was important to hear the lecture. They'd been having issues coordinating their new formation, and he–" Hange paused. Her gaze dropped to stare at the table in contemplation. "He had them listen to me as a punishment, now that I dwell on it."

Bubbles appeared in Celine's ale as she chuckled. It became her turn to give her companion a reassuring pat on the back. "I'll hear your theory later. I'm too close to wanting to throw myself in the river to process much beyond my own self-pity at the moment."

Hange lifted her head. She was generally quick to recover from any sort of letdown. The only time Hange had been rattled in any way was when her experiments on some captured Titans (who had affectionately been dubbed Chikatiloni and Albert) accidentally led to said Titans' demise. It was a grief none of her peers had been able to empathize with in the slightest.

"How dull," Hange said, scratching her head. "You have better things to do than feel sorry for yourself."

"Like what?" Celine said. "Listen to you talk about Titans?"

"Sure," Hange said with a shrug. "Who else would you be spending time with?"

A pout touched Celine's lips as she watched Hange toss back her head to finish her drink.

"On that note," Hange said with a glint to her eye. "There's a scouting party scheduled in about a month. I should be back around a week after that with more theories to throw your way."

A sour look was still stuck to Celine's face; the tight grip on her cup was the only sign of any underlying distress. "Don't do anything stupid while you're out there," Celine said. "Moblit has a higher chance of dying from the stress of putting up with you than by being eaten by a Titan."

"He objects to my actions at every turn, yet doesn't ask for a transfer," Hange said with a nod. "I think he's a masochist."

"Probably."

"He must be," Hange said, her smile widening. "Since he seems to have taken a liking to you."

Celine choked on her drink. She turned to regard Hange in disgust as ale dribbled down her chin.

"Hey now!" Hange said as she leaned away. "That look has me offended on Moblit's behalf."

"He's nice enough," Celine said, using her sleeve to wipe her face. "But too bland for my taste. I like a man who's assertive – sees what he wants and takes it. Someone who doesn't pull any punches and doesn't bend to the will of others just to be a people pleaser."

Hange laughed, doubling over and wrapping her arms around her torso in merriment.

"Hey!"

The first slap to the back of the head did nothing to quell Hange's laughter. Nor did the second. The third strike was harder than the last, but did little more than make Hange's hysterical laughter only increase in volume.

"That's it!" Celine said, her cheeks burning as heads turned in their direction. "That's the last time I'm ever telling you anything personal about me!"

"That's such a lie!" Hange said, banging her fist on the table as tears began to pool in her square goggles. "You love talking about yourself! Just as much as you love yourself, since apparently you want to court yourself! It's the funniest damn thing!"

"Shut up, you asshole!" Celine said, now using her mug as a means to hit Hange repeatedly until the howling of laughter came to a stop. She slammed the mug down and looked away with a huff. Her face burned from a combination of the alcohol and the gaggle of onlookers laughing behind their hands.

The overall mood of the pub quieted down some during the minute Celine took to brood while Hange lifted her goggles to wipe the moisture from her face.

"I haven't laughed that hard in a while," Hange said as she adjusted her goggles back into place. She shook her head to flick Celine's ale from her ponytail. "Ah … I'll miss you while I'm gone, Celine."

Celine grunted. She turned in her seat to regard Hange from the corner of her eye.

"Just don't die out there, asshole."

"Marco!"

The streets of Trost District were as crowded as the day Marco had come riding into town five years prior. He'd been on an exhausted horse with a boy slowly dying from blood loss strapped to his back. Even though today's occasion bore an atmosphere on the opposite end of the spectrum, the clamor of people pushing their way around him still elicited a low level of anxiety. Those memories of streets lined with rows of prone figures shrouded in white cloth lingered in the back of his mind even as his eyes took in flamboyant performers and colorful food stalls. Things were very different than five years ago, yet Trost still put him on edge.

"Marco! Marco, here!"

A smile grew on Marco's face as he spotted a pair of gloved hands waving above the crowd. It was easy enough for him to leave his spot and move away from the sidewalk toward the courtyard. All the action would be along the main street running through the city and everyone wanted to get a glimpse of the Scout Regiment as they headed out on another excursion. The Scouts had been successful in gathering resources and slaying Titans for the past few years, turning their large-scale journeys outside Wall Rose into something to be celebrated. Marco had been keen on seeing them off as well before he needed to meet up with his squad. Yet all thoughts concerning the Scout Regiment fell away when Marco opened his arms and his mother ran into his embrace.

"You're a giant!" Rosie said. She left a wet spot on her son's jacket when she pulled back. Her tears were roughly wiped away as she looked up at Marco with a loving expression.

"Hi, Mom," Marco said with a chuckle. He looked up to see Samuel making his way through the crowd, balancing a baby on his hip. The child had a mess of black curls and was wearing a purple dress with so many ruffles Marco mused she looked more flower than person.

"We heard the news," Samuel said. "Seventh in your class; what an amazing feat! We're incredibly proud, Marco."

"Thanks, Dad," Marco said. He returned Samuel's smile and gladly accepted the child being handed off to him. He bounced his baby sister up and down until she let out a happy gurgle.

"You said I'm getting big, Mom," Marco said. "But look at Suzy! She's holding her own head up now and everything."

"All the better for her to look about," Rosie said. "She's the oddest thing – hardly makes a peep. She's happy to just take in the world around her. The only time she cries is when it's bedtime and she has nothing to look at but the back of her own eyelids."

Marco laughed. The sound was absorbed by a rumble of hoofbeats. The Scout Regiment had arrived, Marco immediately recognizing the straight-backed posture of Commander Erwin from a distance.

"Ah, there they are," Samuel said as he watched the procession. "I admire them for their bravery, but I guess they didn't graduate at the top of their class like you did, hmm?"

The smile on Marco's face wavered. "I don't know about that," he said. "My friend Eren graduated fifth in our class, and he's planning on joining the Scouts."

Eyebrows rose above square lenses as Samuel turned his head. "Is that so?" he said. "I don't believe I've ever heard something like that before. Well, not since the Commander himself, but he's a special case. I couldn't imagine turning down an opportunity to serve within the safety of the interior for such a risk."

Victoria Bodt's face flashed before Marco's eyes – a trickle of blood running down her bruised lip as she smiled.

"It takes someone special," Marco said. "You have to be willing to stand your ground, even when you're afraid."

A sharp whistle snapped Marco from his daze. He turned to look over the cheering masses and spotted Jean standing atop a barrel. Jean motioned for Marco to come over, and with a start Marco realized it was time for him to find his squad.

"Sorry Mom; Dad," Marco said. He gave Suzy a swift peck on the cheek before handing her off to Rosie. "I have to go. Will you be staying in Trost for the day?"

"Oh, no, we're headed for the ferry," Samuel said. "We only stopped by for the chance to run into you here since I heard the graduating class would be on duty doing patrols today."

"We're expecting you to visit for dinner as soon as you can," Rosie said as she gave Marco's arm a squeeze. "Rebecca and I will make something really special to celebrate you getting into the Military Police!"

Marco pulled his mother into as tight of an embrace he could get away with while keeping the baby in mind. He held her for a moment before letting go. It was astonishing how different she looked from the last time they'd been in this district – well dressed, plump, and happy. He hoped he looked better in her eyes as well.

"Oh!" Marco said, his eyes widening. "Please invite Celine, too! Is she doing well?"

Rosie's mirth slipped for a moment before her smile returned. It wasn't quite the same.

"Celine is the same as always … we assume," Samuel said. "I see her every now and again when she stops by the factory. It's been a few years since she's been by the house."

"Oh, I see," Marco said with a slump to his shoulders. "Let her know she's invited, alright? I'll see you all at the ceremony, I promise."

Marco shot them a final smile before turning and dashing into the crowd. He rubbed the back of his head in a bashful manner as Jean hopped down from the barrel and began berating him for taking too long.

. . .

"Oh, that must be Jean," Rosie said as she regarded the young man with choppy, light-brown hair speaking to Marco. "Marco writes about him so much I feel like I know the boy. I'll make sure Marco knows he can invite him over for dinner, too."

"As long as he isn't one of the nutjobs looking to join the Scout Regiment," Samuel said as they began to walk away. "I respect them, but I can't say I've met a single one that isn't insane. What little I can get out of Celine doesn't sound good, either … It'll be better when Marco joins the Military Police and doesn't associate with people like that."

Samuel and Rosie walked toward the river in silence for a block before Samuel regarded his normally talkative wife with a raised brow.

"Rosie, dear – are you alright?"

Suzy began to fuss in Rosie's arms. The baby was handed off to Samuel, his eyes widening in alarm as he noticed the shake to Rosie's hands.

"Darling, what is it?" he said. A gentle yank guided the distracted Rosie to stand under the overhang of a nearby building as they slowed to a stop.

"I don't know," Rosie said. She lifted her hands, failing to fight back the tremble to her fingers. "This place … something isn't right here. It makes me want to run to Marco and drag him back to Stohess with us."

Samuel regarded his wife with a warm expression. He placed a hand on the small of her back as he urged her forward.

"There's no need to worry. Marco isn't the one leaving the walls. He'll be just fine here in Trost – I promise."

A/N: Comments and feedback are welcome!