A miss is as good as a mile.
He's heard it before, countless times in his case. He's no stranger to failure, Ymir knows he isn't, but if life's taught him anything it's that it shouldn't be a reason to stay down, keep moving forward as the others say, even if you expect nothing but failure. You keep moving forward even if your commander ahead of you gets torn to shreds, you keep moving forward even if your friends beside you are turned to mist, you keep moving forward even if the one man you thought could be the devil turns his back on you and your people.
Yeah, he's quite familiar with that concept.
But sometimes, it's easier said than done. Whatever it is they would set out to do now didn't sit right with him, he never felt comfortable with the thought of leaving the island, not when he knew what was on the other side. But it was his duty regardless, and at this point he wouldn't hesitate to do anything for the sake of Eldia's future.
Mischievous green eyes pierce his thoughts.
Live.
The advice, so deceptively simple, reverberates through his mind. How foolish it seems, he muses silently. What worth is there in living if these lands crumble into smoldering ruin? A bitter chuckle escapes his lips as he stands alone amidst the hollow halls of Stohess' military headquarters. His hand reaches into his coat pocket, retrieving a worn pocket watch, its face reflecting the disapproving frown etched on his features. They are running late, he realizes, a surge of urgency coursing through his veins.
Right on cue, the doors to the conference room swing open, and Hange and the rest of their squad pour out, followed closely by the higher-ups. Floch stands at attention for a moment, facing forward, paying no mind to the nasty glares shot his way by some of the Military Police officers as they trail behind commander Hange, Premier Zackly and commander Pixis. He swiftly drops his salute and falls in line with the rest of his crew, walking shoulder to shoulder with Jean as they break away from the others and gather in a huddle outside, by the courtyard.
That's when his gaze locks with Armin's, and the blond's eyes widen ever so slightly. Armin gives him an uneasy glance but nods in acknowledgment. Floch realizes he must have been staring intently, his brows furrow momentarily before his features soften, and he nods back. Ignoring the conversation between Sasha and Connie beside him, Floch scans the courtyard. He looks up and spots Captain Levi observing them from one of the windows before he disappears from view.
His mouth opens and closes, hesitance hanging in the air, but after a couple of minutes he goes for it anyway. "So... Any idea what we're supposed to do?"
The four scouts turn to him, and Floch resists the urge to grimace at how quickly he killed the mood. "Honestly? No idea. Commander Hange said she'd fill us in once we're on our way," Sasha responds, frowning. "My head was spinning in there. They were all speaking in riddles."
Connie chuckles. "That's what happens when you try to use that head of yours, Sasha."
"Like you understood anything," Sasha retorts, sticking out her tongue at him as he smirks in return.
"Hey, heads up, it's time to move," Jean warns as Hange, Levi, and a few more scout officers join them.
The group prepares their horses for departure, and the gates ahead open in anticipation. Just as Floch is about to mount his horse, a voice calls out to him from behind. He turns around to find Hitch running toward him. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise as she finally reaches his side, bending over out of breath. She looks up at him, still trying to collect herself. "Hah, I... I caught up just in time..." She huffs and pants before straightening up.
"Hitch? What are you doing?" He furrows his brow, curiosity evident in his eyes.
"What does it look like I'm doing?!" She scowls, then notices the stares from nearby scouts, suddenly becoming self-conscious. Floch looks at her unimpressed before turning to Jean who rolls his eyes. "You've got one minute." Floch nods and turns back to Hitch as the others move ahead. "So?"
"Sorry, I should have found you earlier. I had a lot on my plate this morning. Ahh, I'm wasting time. I just wanted to see you off before you left," she explains, looking somewhat guilty for holding him back. "Since... you know, you'll be heading off the island and all... and I don't know how long you'll be gone for, it's better that I do this than regret not to right?"
Floch stares at her expresionless for a moments. "Not what I was really expecting, Is that all?"
She looks down at the ground, her jaw clenching. "I suppose so."
"Then thank you, Hitch. I really appreciate it." He says, giving her a genuine smile—a gesture he hasn't been accustomed to in the past couple of years.
She looks up at him, wide-eyed and stammers a bit. "W-well, don't let it get to your head, you hear me? And don't forget what we agreed on!"
He mounts his horse and gives her one last look. "Never in a million years, until then your highness." He quips sarcastically.
Her face lights up with a huge grin. "That's the spirit! Go get 'em, Forster!"
He gives her a mock salute before nudging his horse forward, leaving Hitch behind as the gates close. He catches up to the rest of his squad, immediately noticing the devious grins he was receiving from the two clowns on his team. Floch glares at the two of them, silently daring them to say something but they don't bite, instead they giggle to themselves and focus on the road ahead.
Floch simply sighs, what a headache this is turning out to be.
He figures that wherever they're heading, their uniforms won't be necessary. The group of twelve moves south, now traveling in a group of three carriages after changing at the HQ in Ehrmich. Floch and three other officers sit together inside one of them as it makes its way through the gates of Shiganshina. He inspects his clothing—a simple gray suit and trousers, complemented by a black tie, a white dress shirt, and black leather shoes. It's nothing fancy, but it'll do. He doubts those barbarians on the other side of the ocean would care much for fashion anyway, as long as he doesn't stick out like a sore thumb.
Floch's gaze drifts back to the window of the carriage. Jean wasn't kidding—the further south they go, the heavier the concentration of soldiers becomes. Soon enough, they arrive at the southern port, bustling with soldiers going about their business. A steamship is docked on the pier, presumably their mode of transportation. Floch and the officers disembark and he rejoins Jean and the rest as Hange, Levi, Armin, and the few officers engage in conversation with Kyomi Azumabito.
"Damn, I haven't seen this place this packed since we were building it," Connie remarks with a whistle, Sasha nodding beside him.
Armin nods, his expression filled with discomfort. "The government's taking all these precautions to be ready for the worst, considering the circumstances," he states with visible unease.
"No kidding," Sasha adds, observing a couple of officers handling a crate filled with ammunition.
"Is it going to be enough?" Jean says the silent part outloud, and none answer.
Floch's eyes narrow, a frown etching onto his face. Contempt taints his gaze as he watches the soldiers around them dutifully going about their tasks. Deep down, he knows it's all happening way too late—that those in charge took things for granted in the past. This is just a feeble attempt at catching up after getting caught with their pants down. But well, it's better than nothing, he supposes.
Captain Levi calls out to them, and the group turns to find Hange excitedly waving from the top of the massive steamboat. They soon board the vessel as it sets sail from the Eldian shores, or... sets whatever it is that drives this massive lump of steel forward, he corrects himself. Floch stands by the railing way back at the rear of the ship, watching the coast slowly vanish over the horizon. He lets out a sigh and leans forward, studying the waters below with a mind flooded with questions.
What exactly is their mission? Are they off on some diplomatic venture? Some kind of reconnaissance? His eyes widen briefly. Could it be that they've found a lead on that bastard?
"That's gotta be it, right? Why else?" He muses.
The Azumabito made it clear that they wouldn't allow them to establish relations with any other nation—an attempt to preserve full rights to the island's resources. So, that's out of the question. And what purpose would reconnaissance on the mainland serve? Yes, that must be the reason. There's no doubt in his mind—they may have a lead on Eren's whereabouts.
If he ever gets the chance to confront that bastard again...
"Whatcha doing all the way back here, Floch?"
Floch's body jolts, caught off guard by Sasha's sudden appearance. Her voice cuts through his thoughts, snapping him back to reality. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure as he turns to face her. "Just doing some thinking, Heard that isn't your strong suit." He can't help but take a playful jab at her.
"Hey!" She playfully punches him on the back of his shoulder, clearly offended. "Contrary to what Connie might've told ya, I ain't just some airhead." She proudly defends herself, standing next to him by the railings, overlooking the sea. "I'm damn reliable when it counts, and that's all that matters! At least that's what The Commander and Mikasa kept tellin' me..." She trails off sheepishly.
He chuckles. "Oh, so you're not as confident as you seem. How reassuring." His expression turns serious. "But then again, with all the shit you survived, luck can only take you so far before it decides to screw you over."
"Something along those lines, yeah," she awkwardly adds."Sooooo, first time leaving the island then?"
"Sasha, this is the second time any wall Eldian left the island in the last one hundred years, you were part of the first." He says in a deadpan.
"Oh yeah, right."
He rolls his eyes and gazes back at the ocean before he begins to feel her eyes on the side of his head. He notices her staring from the corner of his eye, clearly itching to ask him something. "I won't bite. If you've got something to say, spill it." He turns to face her, watching as the hesitation in her eyes fades away.
"Well... I just wanted to know how you're holdin' up?"
Surprise flickers in his eyes for a brief moment.
"Jean ain't the only one who's noticed, y'know? We've all seen how tough these past few weeks have been for you. It's been rough on all of us. Just 'cause you weren't always part of the Scouts doesn't mean we care less about you, we're all from the One-O-Four remember? You're more than just a comrade, Floch." She looks down to the side, avoiding eye contact. "And, well, it's hard talkin' to someone who's as lively as a corpse, no offense."
His brows furrow. "None taken."
His eyes roam around their surroundings, eyes flickering towards the sun as it slowly descends, before settling his gaze back on her. "Something about this feels oddly familiar." Sasha looks back at him with confusion, before he sighs. "Regardless, I guess I'm fine, I just don't think this is something mere words can fix. I can't even put my finger on it, I suppose it feels like I'm down there." He begins, lazily pointing at the ocean beneath them without taking his elbows off the railing. "It feels like no matter what I do, I'm just stuck below the surface, drowning."
"What's keeping you down there in the first place?" She tilts her head.
Floch contemplates for a second, keeping all those feelings bottled up was slowly killing him, he glances at the side of her face and sees the genuine curiosity etched on her face. He feels slightly at ease knowing she cares to this extent, and it gives him the extra push he needs to come clean with the thoughts he's having. He takes a deep breath and allows his eyes to roam over towards the horizon.
"Fear of failure, or just failure in general, I suppose. People never really had high expectations of me growing up. I've always coasted through life, doing the bare minimum required. And then one day, when It truly mattered... I just... failed, over and over again. And now, with what's happenin' around us? I can't help but feel like it's somehow my damn fault." He confides, eyes heavy and half-lidded.
"That... makes no sense."
"Yeah, figured it wouldn't. Was worth a shot, I guess." His shoulders slump as his head drops down, he couldn't exactly tell her what he's been up to before Eren turned tail and fled.
"Not that. I meant this, this whole thing you're doin' now. Ya've resigned yourself to your fate, repeatin' the same mistake over and over. If ya go into everything expectin' failure by default, then that's sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy, ain't it? From where I'm sittin', it just looks like ya've thrown in the towel and given up before ya even tried. No wonder ya feel like ya're drownin' if ya ain't makin' any effort to kick your feet and swim up." Sasha leans back and gazes up at the sky, the stars slowly emergin' into view.
Floch turns toward her, studying the side of her face, his eyes wide with realization. "I... never thought of it that way..." His grip on the railing tightens, his jaw clenches. "It's not that simple though, my future is beyond the point where it's in my hands... or feet."
"Well, that's why we're out here, ain't it? We're tryin' to snatch that future back into our grasp." She posits and places a hand on his shoulder, her touch offering solace. "Ya ain't the only one, believe me. We all have our own way of dealin' with things, but the difference between you and the rest of us is that we're still clinging to hope. And maybe you should too. We ain't no strangers to hardship, after all!" She offers a weak smile, her eyes reflecting a flicker of optimism, and he nods in return.
"I can try, if nothing else."
"That's all I ask!"
They lapse into a comfortable silence, filled by the symphony of sounds from the steamship and the gentle rhythm of the waves below. A soothing breeze brushes past them as Sasha breaks the silence again.
"So, about you and Hitch..." She trails off.
Floch sighs again. "There it is."
"I mean, how did it happen? We're all surprised that's all." She asks, leaning in with curiosity. "We thought she hated your guts for... you know." She nudges him in the elbow playfully.
"Must you all remind me about that everytime? And do you seriously have nothing better to talk about? First Jean, now you? Who else is in on this?"
"You're better off not knowing, besides! If we did have better things to speak about we wouldn't be pesterin' ya in the first place now would we? And come on ya have to admit! Hitch is a cute girl, I can see why you'd go for her." She giggles as she pokes him with her elbow teasingly. "So what did you? How did you get her to fall for Mr. Grouch over here?"
"For the last time, I'm not going for anybody and nothing happened between us, I just walked up to her one day and apologized for the things I said during the ceremony. Stop making it a bigger deal than it is." He scowls, but Sasha doesn't seem convinced. "It's already creepy enough to think you're all talking about me that way with some girl I barely know."
"Hmm, a likely story, but you're not spillin' all the beans." She smirks, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Connie claimed he saw you two strollin' together in Trost yesterday, and he said you both looked like the happiest people on earth. And the way she ran up to ya earlier this morning doesn't do ya any favors."
His lips press together, a flicker of anger igniting within. "Well, Connie's dead wrong! We just got back from visiting the memorial site, and... we talked, one thing led to another, and I sort of-" His eyes widen as he realizes he almost incriminated himself before backtracking. "I sort of agreed that I'd make it up to her by taking her someplace nice..." He explains cautiously.
Sasha grins mischievously, a teasing tone in her voice as she wiggles her eyebrows. "So, it's a date then, ehh? Looks like Jean lost the bet."
"Not a date, she made it very clear we're going as friends, or as she put it 'acquainted comrades who share a hint of sorrow.'." He sighs before leaning back on the railing, feeling the weight of it all, before his head snapped in her direction in bewilderment. "You guys are betting money on this?!"
"I see, I see!" She nods sagely ignoring his outburst before leaning closer. "So, where exactly is this 'not a date' takin' place?"
Floch glares at her before shifting his gaze back to the sea. "I don't know, as soon as we get back home I guess. She had her eyes set on some fancy Marleyan restaurant in downtown Ehrmich, I haven't even looked it up yet."
Her brow raises with curiosity as she narrows her eyes. "You mean Niccolo's restaurant? That's the only Marleyan place in town, on the whole damn island, even." She supplies before holding her chin in thought. "Hmm, she sure knows how to pick 'em. That place is super expensive, and gettin' reservations is like tryin' to snatch a needle from a haystack 'cause all them rich snobs from the capital dine there now."
"Oh great, so you're saying I'd have better luck finding Eren and Mikasa at the bottom of this ocean." He scoffs, chuckling to himself in bitter irony.
"Yup, but in your case I'd stay away from the water for now! Don't worry though! Niccolo's a cool guy, and we're good friends! I'm sure I can call in a favor for ya!" She slaps him on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of him as his eyes widen from the impact. He wipes some spit from his mouth with his sleeve before looking at her skeptically. "And you'd do it out of the kindness of your heart? No strings attached?"
She grins mischievously. "Yup! Consider it my way of helpin' ya break free from that shell!"
"My hero.." He rolls his eyes.
"Sasha, Floch! Get over here! Commander Hange's callin' for ya both! It's 'bout to start!"
The two teenagers turn around to see Connie in the distance waving at them. They share a knowing look and nod before making their way inside. Soon, they find themselves seated in a conference room aboard the ship, surrounded by their fellow Scouts, as well as Kyomi Azumabito and her entourage. Hange stands at the head of the table, holding a folder in her hands. She nods to one of Kyomi's men, and the lights in the room dim as a projector lights up a blackboard behind Hange.
"Now, I'm certain you're all curious about the sudden expedition overseas, just as I'm certain most of you are piecing together the purpose behind it." Hange begins, her keen eye scanning the individuals seated before her, while the projector illuminates the front page of a newspaper behind her as the room fills with anticipation. "Two days ago, thanks to Ms. Kyomi's exceptional spy network, we came across this news article from the southern territories of Marley on the Afrinian continent."
Astonishing! Young Woman from the East Overpowers Four Men in Ferocious Brawl, Leaving Onlookers Stunned!
The headline blares, accompanied by a black and white photo capturing the aftermath of the incident in front of some tavern named "The Luna Rossa", with police officers and a stunned crowd surrounding the fallen men. Floch's eyes narrow as he reads the words, realizing his suspicions were spot-on. Hange shoots him a knowing look, recognizing that he remains oddly unfazed by the revelation.
Floch grits his teeth, figures she'd leave it till now to tell them about this, guess he wasn't off the hook just yet.
"This incident alone wouldn't have raised our suspicions. However, it was the description of this girl that caught our attention. Eyewitnesses described her as approximately 175 cm tall, with short, dark hair and a scar adorning her right cheek. She also wore a distinctive black scarf." Hange's gaze intensifies. "Without a doubt, this article is referring to Mikasa Ackerman."
"You've got to be kidding me," Jean mutters under his breath, his disbelief evident in his voice.
"Well that explains it," Connie mumbles, his voice tinged with both anxiety and determination.
Floch spares them a brief glance, his keen eyes observing the tense atmosphere. Jean's body trembles with a fire burning deep within him, Armin looks like he has seen a ghost from the way his face pales. Floch turns his attention back to the projector, where Hange resumes her briefing.
"After conducting further investigations, our informants have managed to narrow down the possible whereabouts of both Eren and Mikasa. We will be embarking on a journey south traversing Marley's eastern coastlines towards the Celestia Canal until we reach our destination." The projector transitions to display a detailed map of Marley's territories in the Afrinian continent, with Hange pointing to one of the coastal regions. "We will find ourselves three hundred kilometers east of the Canal in a small, picturesque town named Rosetta."
She turns around, as the projector switches again. "Something to note is that a new railway system has been recently opened in the area, capable of transporting passengers through the Azarian continent and into Euronia. We believe that they will be attempting to use this railway system to make their way deeper into the other continents, and possibly settle somewhere far from civilization." Hange sighs, as the projector finally stops. "Given what we know so far about the tools the outside world uses to weed out disguised Eldians, they're more likely to avoid large cities, but that is only a theory on my end."
"So, any questions so far?" Hange asks as she sets the folder down.
"A few, how do we know they haven't left yet?" A skeptical Jean asks.
"We don't, but as I said, the train station has only been open to the public recently, I'm afraid we'll have to head there to investigate if we wish to know for sure."
Armin speaks up with a trace of unease. "Could you clarify the objective of this mission, Commander?"
"The search and apprehension of Eren Yeager," Levi responds, causing some of the scouts to jump in surprise, momentarily forgetting his presence behind them.
Armin hesitates, he turn to face the stoic man and ignores his choice of words. "And Mikasa right?"
"No, just Eren."
Sleep eludes Floch throughout the night, tormenting him with restlessness. After futilely tossing and turning for nearly an hour, he resigns himself to the fact that slumber will not grace him tonight. Abandoning his room, he navigates the ship's narrow corridors until he reaches the deck, emerging into the embrace of a bone-chilling breeze. As he steps into the open, he surveys his surroundings, the only illumination provided by scattered, faint lights. It is then that he spots Armin Arlert leaning against the ship's railing, fixated upon the abyssal expanse of the ocean.
Quietly, Floch joins him, choosing not to announce his presence. Armin's disinterested gaze briefly grazes Floch, his distant expression indicative of deep contemplation. Floch lazily steals another glance at Armin, noting the detachment that cloaks him.
"Can't sleep, Arlert?"
Armin remains silent, his focus shifting downward to the restless waters, his lips forming a tight, grim line. Recognizing Armin's taciturn response, Floch refrains from probing further, allowing silence to envelop them. Suppressing the urge to sigh once more, Floch realizes the futility of expecting a restful night for Arlert after receiving the grim revelation that his childhood friends are now marked for capture or worse.
However, he muses, it's not as though their actions were unjustifiable. Eren and Mikasa made the conscious choice to abandon them, leaving the people back on the island to face an uncertain and cruel fate. Floch ponders whether Armin and the others would hesitate if they stumbled upon their former comrades by chance. Perhaps that's why he finds himself here too—a realization that the commander understands his unwavering commitment, knowing that his ties to Eren and Mikasa are not as profound as those of the rest.
What a mess, honestly.
Armin's voice, heavy and barely audible, ruptures Floch's contemplation. "When I was young, I used to be the target of relentless bullying by a group of kids from my neighborhood just because of what I believed in. This was before the walls fell. I had no one to rely on back then, except for this book my grandfather had given me." Floch's attention is captivated by Armin's narrative as he turns to face him. "I always believed that if one had to resort to violence, then their beliefs were inferior. Still, I was weak, incapable of fighting back, so I endured their torment. Until one day, another kid intervened, single-handedly confronting all three of them. He didn't come out on top, but he pushed them back. From that moment on, we became inseparable, to the point of sharing the same dreams."
Armin pauses, furrowing his brow as he rests his elbows on the railing, cradling his head as though it might tumble away. "Eventually, our duo became a trio, forming an unbreakable bond or so I thought. After the walls fell, we became a makeshift family, orphans navigating a ruthless world. Never did I fathom a life without them, and I cherished every moment we spent together. It was my closest taste of heaven in this wretched existence." Floch can hear the tears quivering in Armin's voice. "So, to think that after everything we endured, they would abandon me without a second thought, as if it all meant nothing... I struggle to comprehend it."
"That's rough, buddy." Floch offers.
"I've been asking myself this question a lot recently, why did they go to such lengths to bring me back from the brink of death in Shiganshina, only to end up like this a few years later? Did I overlook something? Why? Just... why?" Armin poses the query rhetorically, his voice teetering on the edge of emotional collapse. "You were right, Floch. It really shouldn't have been me that day, It should have been Erwin, he'd know what to do with all this shit that's happening around us."
"Stop that." Floch interjects, his tone laced with an icy edge.
"Why?! Isn't that what you believe? Isn't that what you hammered into me all those weeks ago?!" Armin straightens himself, turning to face Floch, his eyes wide with a tinge of madness. "Wouldn't you have preferred the commander's presence instead?! He would have handled this far be-"
Floch wastes no time, swiftly backhanding Armin, snapping him back to reality. Armin stands there, a mixture of shock and pain etched across his face, his cheek throbbing and inflamed. "Do not tread down that path. I won't engage in this futile back-and-forth with you, and I certainly won't indulge your self-flagellation, not you." Floch states firmly.
Leaning back against the railing, Floch continues, his voice tinged with frustration. "I've always been frank and direct with you, so here's the unvarnished truth. Armin, you infuriate me. Even now. Yes, you're absolutely correct—Commander Erwin would likely have handled this situation better than any of us could. But you know what truly irks me? You could have, too." Floch's back remains turned, his face contorting into a sneer. "But you didn't."
Turning around to face the stunned Armin, Floch takes a step closer, casting a towering presence. "You waste your time holed up in that basement with that deranged psychopath, neglecting our meetings, relying on information filtered through others. You've grown accustomed to evading your problems and expecting authority figures to resolve them. Not once in the past four years have you displayed the brilliance everyone raved about, those accomplishments your cherished childhood friends used to justify choosing you over Erwin. That's what infuriates me, Armin. Not you, but your inaction, your complacency. I yearned to be proven wrong, desperately! But alas, what's done is done."
"I..." Armin mumbles, his head hanging low as he fixates on the floor, lost in contemplation.
"When I lashed out at you back in Stohess, it wasn't because I hated you. Do you know what I saw back then? Three selfish kids who took everything we sacrificed for granted. I saw Gordon and Sandra die in vain, I saw Marlowe bravely charging into hell for nothing, I saw Erwin Smith's legacy tarnished. It was never just about you, but everything we gave up for that chance to bring you back."
Floch firmly grasps Armin's shoulders, his grip tight. "But this is your moment, damn it! We've stumbled upon what could be our final chance to salvage this fucking disaster, Arlert! This mission will determine whether it was truly worthwhile to bring you back from the brink. It's your opportunity, and nobody else's! Can you grasp the weight of my words?" Armin looks up, peering into Floch's eyes, searching for meaning in their depths. "The truth is, for some inexplicable reason, your friends no longer value you. They've discarded you and left you for dead, just as they have with the rest of us. Any reasonable person would act decisively in your shoes. No more hesitation, no more complacency. The fate of our people rests on your shoulders, Armin. Do you comprehend the magnitude of this?"
"Nobody is coming to save that little boy anymore, no one will defend his beliefs, he has to man up and do it himself."
Armin remains silent, maintaining his lowered gaze. Floch locks eyes with him, a penetrating glare passing between them. They stand motionless, neither budging from their positions. It isn't until Armin gently removes Floch's hands from his shoulders and straightens his disheveled shirt that the blond finally breaks the silence.
"I do. I understand perfectly," Armin solemnly declares, his voice laced with determination. He meets Floch's eyes, a fierce resolve burning within him. "I will retrieve them both, no matter what it takes. They'll return, even if it means they're bloody, screaming, and kicking."
A faint smile tugs at the corners of Floch's mouth, his features softening.
"That's what I like to hear."
By the second day, the ship nears the canal, and on the evening of the third, Floch awakens from a brief nap to discover the sight that unfolds before him—the coast of their intended destination. He rubs away the remnants of sleep from his eyes, his senses sharpening as he takes in the panorama. The ship's bow glides over the azure waters, the tang of salt permeating the air. They all disembark at the naval port of Rosetta, dispersing into small groups and making their way to a hideout owned by the Azumabito. Night has already enveloped the surroundings by the time Floch, Jean, and Sasha arrive at the gated mansion nestled by the coast. An Azumabito guard swings open the door, granting them entry into the premises, where the rest of their comrades await.
"Good, you're all here," Hange exclaims, clapping her hands together in anticipation before adopting a serious tone. "Now, without further ado, let's delve into the details. Time is of the essence." Hange unfurls a map of the city, and the group leans in closer, their focus centered on her markings. "As you can see, our current position is marked here on the map, just four hundred meters northwest of the downtown area. Fortunately, Rosetta is not a sprawling town. It's roughly twice the size of Ehrmich, for instance, so we can divide it into three major sectors. We will employ a systematic approach, assigning each group a sector to cover."
"Levi, Connie, Sasha, and Pavel, you will be responsible for the western sector. Jean, Armin, Hugo, and Floch, the downtown area falls under your jurisdiction. The rest of us will handle the east. We must extend our reach, leaving no stone unturned," Hange declares, scanning the determined faces before her. "Explore residences, local establishments, transportation hubs, community centers, parks, and recreational facilities—everything that brings us closer to locating Eren and Mikasa. I don't care who you approach or what methods you employ; we need to find any leads we can."
Her gaze hardens, emanating a cold and steely determination. "But always remember, this is no longer walled territory. We're in hostile country. Avoid raising suspicions at all costs. If our cover is blown, we're on our own." A palpable tension fills the room, causing Floch to inhale sharply. Hange reaches beneath the table, revealing a small crate, which she opens to reveal an assortment of small arms and fake Identification papers. "However, that does not mean we are defenseless. Each one of you will be provided a personal weapon for defense as well as forged identification papers. They may prove invaluable in moments of confrontation or as bargaining tools while navigating the town. Nonetheless, discretion is paramount. Use your weapons as a last resort."
"That's all for now. Tomorrow morning I'll be handing each of you your weapons and documents before we leave, Get some rest, all of you." Hange concludes as she seals the crate, before offering a salute. "Dedicate your hearts."
Levi, the exception, simply nods, while everyone else in the room instinctively returns the salute. With that, they disperse to their respective chambers, leaving Jean and Floch to share a room together.
"At least these beds look more comfortable," Jean remarks as they step into the room.
Floch hops onto one of the beds, claiming it as his own. "Yep, and it seems like there are fewer rats too."
"Perfect," Jean replies, his tone dry.
"So, big day tomorrow, huh?" Floch comments, perching one leg over the other.
"Tsk. Like we'll accomplish anything. We'll probably just chase shadows and come up empty-handed, to be honest," Jean scowls, placing his bag down and opening the window to let in some fresh air.
"So much for holding onto hope, or at least that's what Sasha told me," Floch murmurs.
Jean sighs, leaning his back against the windowsill. "Look, I'm just being realistic here. It's been what? A week since they were last spotted? At best, we'll find out they hopped on that train and escaped to some other place." Jean's expression darkens, catching Floch's pointed look. "And I know what you're thinking. Cut it out."
"Cut out what?" Floch feigns innocence.
"Floch."
The redhead ignores him, narrowing his eyes. "You're afraid we might actually run into them, aren't you?"
Jean's brows furrow, a troubled flicker passing through his narrow eyes, but he remains silent. Floch sits up. "You don't know how to handle it if we do find her, because you haven't moved on yet," Floch accuses, leveling a judgmental gaze at Jean. "But she has, and so has he. I told Armin the same thing, and I'll say it to you too. They've made it clear they don't care, so why should you? If we do cross paths with them, there's only one thing you should be focused on." Floch stands up, tapping Jean's chest lightly to emphasize his point. "Who do I neutralize first to subdue the other?"
"I'm done discussing this," Jean grits out with a fierce glare, and he turns his back to Floch, heading for bed.
"Whether you like it or not, Jean, this is our mission now. It's not about you and them anymore. The fate of Eldia hangs in the balance of the choices we make tomorrow. For your sake, as well as ours, don't hesitate when it matters most," Floch says as he lies back on his bed, sparing Jean a final glance.
"Because I won't."
The following day, Floch rises early and joins some of the officers for a quick breakfast before arming himself and collecting his papers. He dons an underarm holster, securing the issued pistol within, and conceals both beneath his gray suit jacket. He takes a badge and a paper, featuring his photo, a fake thumbprint, and falsified records.
"Dietrich Faust, hmm... Works for me," Floch mumbles to himself with a nonchalant shrug, glancing over his new identity before tucking the badge and ID paper into his pocket.
By eight in the morning, their squad is ready to venture into town. Floch finds himself sitting on the edge of a fountain in the mansion's front garden, Jean standing before him, the two acknowledging each other with minimal gestures. As Levi's squad passes by, both groups exchange nods, and they proceed to their respective areas of investigation. A few moments later, Armin and Hugo emerge, and the entire group sets off on their journey. Before Floch can reach the gate, Jean suddenly halts him.
Floch turns around, his wrist encased in Jean's grasp. He looks up to find Jean placing a fedora on his head, obscuring his vision. Floch removes the hat, giving Jean a piercing glare in response. Unfazed, Jean offers a neutral expression.
"What are you doing?" Floch demands with a hint of irritation.
"You should probably cover up your hair. Not many redheads around these parts of the continent; you'd be an easy target from afar," Jean calmly explains before walking past him. Floch remains dumbfounded for a few moments. Reluctantly, he puts the fedora back on and joins his group as they exit the estate, making their way toward the downtown area to commence their search.
"Alright, everybody remember who they are?" Jean asks, and the three men nod in agreement. "Good, then we should split into two teams to cover more ground. Hugo's with me. We'll check out the marketplace near townsquare. Armin, Floch, you guys search through the nearby streets. Afterward, let's regroup at the park at Twelve sharp. Got it?"
The three nod, and they disperse to explore their assigned areas. Armin and Floch navigate through the narrow cobbled pedestrian streets, with Armin meticulously scanning the facades of the elegant buildings. Meanwhile, Floch listens intently to the townsfolk's muted conversations, even though it doesn't yield much information. They reach the end of the narrow street, facing a bustling road filled with various establishments and countless bystanders carrying on with their daily lives.
"Floch, you take the right side, and I'll handle the left. Check if any of the vendors on the sidewalk know anything. I'll start with the bookstore at the far end of the street and work my way back," Armin instructs, and Floch nods in agreement.
Floch, ever the smooth talker, interacts effortlessly with the townsfolk. He walks from vendor to vendor, flashing them an easing smile and coaxing forth morsels of information with the help of his badge. Unfortunately, it leads to naught but disappointment. Every time he shows them Eren's picture, it appears as though recognition flickers in their eyes, only for them to shake their heads and claim ignorance. Further down the street, Floch encounters a band playing soulful tunes on a street corner, entertaining a captivated audience. He waits patiently for their performance to end before approaching them, photo in hand, but the outcome remains unchanged.
Sighing in frustration, he leans against the wall by the sidewalk, observing people going about their lives with a sneer. Was this how they had lived all these years while they cowered within the walls? It wasn't fair, and he detested it. Disgust churns within him as he witnesses the hypocrisy. All the cheerfulness and kindness, a mere façade, instantly dissolving when they suspect the presence of an Eldian among them.
The aroma of freshly baked pastries beckons from a nearby patisserie, and the tantalizing perfume of flowers fills the air as he passes a flower stall. He pauses to look up at the wrought-iron balconies adorning the ornate buildings. Jasmine vines cascade from terraces, their delicate blooms releasing a heady fragrance. The man reaches out to touch a flower, letting the soft petals brush against his fingertips.
At least not everything here is ugly on the inside.
Minutes later, Armin returns, equally unsuccessful in his search. He sits next to Floch on the stairwell leading up to someone's home and becomes lost in thought, while Floch impatiently taps his foot on the pavement, keeping an eye out for any sign of Eren or Mikasa in the passing crowds.
"There's nothing on this entire street; nobody knows a damn thing," Armin says, furrowing his brows, his arms folded over his knees. "I wonder if the others are having any luck finding them?"
"Tsk, knowing Connie and Sasha, they probably got themselves into a fight with the locals." Floch scoffs, kicking away a pebble in frustration.
Armin's eyes widen in realization. "Wait, that's it!"
"Huh?"
"The newspaper from earlier, it mentioned Mikasa getting into a fight with some men at a tavern, right? Do you remember the name?"
Floch pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes to think. "Uhmm, damn, what was it?" He snaps his fingers as his eyes light up. "The Luna Rossa!" he exclaims.
Armin promptly stands up, giving Floch a hopeful look. "We should have went there first! Come on, let's not waste any time!" Floch immediately takes out his pocket watch, seeing that they only had thirty minutes to get to the park and regroup with Jean. "We have to let the others know first." He reasons but Armin shakes his head.
"You said it yourself, this is our last chance to salvage this. If we wait around it could be too late!" Armin argues, Floch looks into his eyes for a few moments before conceding with a sharp breath.
"Lead the way."
With the assistance of some locals, the duo ventures deeper into Rosetta until they arrive at the front entrance of the tavern. Sharing a quick nod, they step inside, finding themselves amidst a dozen or so customers scattered about the place. Some glance curiously at the newcomers before returning to their own business. Making their way to the bartender, who has been keeping a close eye on them, they are greeted with a polite smile.
"Welcome, gentlemen. You seem eager for a drink. How can I assist you?" The bartender says, still wiping a glass in his hand.
"Oh, we're not here for the drinks," Floch replies smoothly, reaching into his inner breast pocket to retrieve a photograph. He slides it across the counter, and the bartender glances down at it, feigning a lack of recognition. "We're looking for the person in this photograph. He was supposedly here about a week ago. Recognize him?"
The bartender maintains a poker face. "I'm sorry, but faces come and go here, some come just for the drink, some to celebrate, others to drown in their sorrows, it's certainly hard to remember them all."
Floch's eyes narrow, and he doesn't miss the subtle shift in the bartender's demeanor. "Well, how about this one?" He pulls out a photo of a woman, and the man's eyes betray a hint of recognition. "I believe you know her, given the recent incident."
A chilling silence fills the room, and the bartender's attitude takes a sudden turn. His gaze becomes cold, and he retorts, "Apologies, gentlemen, but who exactly are you? I'm not one to divulge customer information so readily."
"Allow us to introduce ourselves." Floch responds with a confident grin, displaying their fake badges and identification. "I am Agent Dietrich Faust, and this is my partner Adrian Schiffer. These two are wanted criminals by the Marleyan government. We would really appreciate your cooperation."
"We can make it worth the trouble." Armin adds to the pressure by placing some coins on the table and leaning forward to reveal his handcuffs underneath his jacket. "Alternatively, you can accompany us to the local station for obstruction of justice and the aiding of suspected Eldian spies," he states calmly. "Such charges could easily lead to treason and execution for working against the interests of the Fatherland."
The bartender's face pales at the gravity of the situation. "My apologies, gentlemen, I had no idea," He stammers, becoming increasingly cooperative as a sneer twists his features. "I should have known they were Eldians. That girl was a monster, those men didn't stand a chance against her. Damn it, they haven't even compensated me for the damages caused."
Armin interrupts firmly, steering the conversation back on track. "Enough digressing. If you have any relevant information to share, please do so."
The man snaps out of his stupor. "R-right, my bad. They showed up exactly eight days ago. The moment I laid eyes on them, I knew they weren't locals, especially with one of them being an oriental, and all the questions they were asking. Seemed like decent kids, so I helped them get familiar with the town. That one kid was particularly interested in that newly opened train station down south." The man pauses, torn by conflicting emotions.
Floch's ears perk up at the mention of the train station. "And what happened after that?"
"I directed them to a nearby guesthouse to lay low until the station opened to the public. After that... well, you've seen the newspapers."
Frustration boils within Floch, and he slams his fists against the counter, drawing everyone's attention. "Where," he grits out, causing the bartender to jump and quickly fetch a pen and paper. He scribbles down the address and hands it over, his face pale. "That's where I told them to go, I swear!"
Floch glances at the address and passes it to Armin. "Thank you for your cooperation, sir. Have a pleasant day." He tips his hat to the bartender before turning to Armin. "We're getting close, let's move."
Ten minutes later, they arrive at the specified location, passing a man with his carriage near the entrance. Floch and Armin discreetly approach the reception desk, repeating their successful routine on the woman working there. Within seconds, they secure a room and a spare key. Taking positions on either side of the door, they silently count down before barging in, guns ready, only to find the room empty.
"Where the hell..." Floch hisses, frustration evident in his voice as he scans the vacant bedroom. Armin reemerges from checking the bathroom, shaking his head in disappointment. "Damn it!" Floch exclaims, picking up a vase and smashing it against the wall in frustration.
"Let's head back down to that lady," Armin suggests.
While leaning against the window, Floch observes the street below. Suddenly, his attention is drawn to the carriages and the man they had encountered earlier. An idea forms in his mind, and he motions for Armin to join him in investigating further. The man greets them with enthusiasm, thinking they may be potential customers.
"Hello there, good sirs! Going somewhere? Could I interest you in my services? My horses here are fast and reliable, you'll find yourselves-" Before he can finish his sales pitch, Floch shoves him against the carriage, pressing a gun against the roof of his mouth. The man starts hyperventilating, realizing the gravity of the situation. "I'm gonna ask you some questions, and you'll answer, unless you want me to redecorate the side of your carriage."
The man nods frantically.
"Do you work with the guesthouse?"
The man nods again.
"Have you seen these two?" Floch shows him the photographs, and Armin reluctantly cooperates.
The man looks at the pictures and nods once more.
"When and where?"
Floch lowers his gun, allowing the man to breathe, and he answers quickly. "J-just earlier this morning! I took them to the new train station-" Floch cuts him off, pulling him to the front seat of the carriage.
"Take us there, now."
The duo hurtles through the city streets, urging the driver to push the limits of his carriage much to the chagrin of the other cars and carriages going about their day. With a hint of desperation, they arrive at the train station in record time, a few pedestrians move out the way at the last moment and hurl insults at them. Floch springs off the carriage, swiftly followed by Armin, who tosses a pouch of coins to the trembling driver. Money for his troubles, but neither has the time nor patience to offer comfort.
As they dash through the bustling station, Armin's sharp eyes scan the crowd. Panic and determination etched across their faces, they frantically search for any signs of the deserters. "We need to find them before the trains depart," Armin says, taking in a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart.
The two head off in opposite directions, slowing his pace to scan the area, Floch's eyes dart left and right in search of Eren and Mikasa. The desperation in him grows as he realizes they are so close, too close to lose them now. His heart pounds, this is his chance, his opportunity to save Eldia from ruin.
As he pushes through the crowds, he suddenly freezes in shock, spotting a familiar face a few feet away – none other than Eren Yeager. Floch's eyes widen, and he cautiously moves behind Eren, retrieving his weapon. It seems Eren hasn't noticed him yet, and Mikasa is nowhere in sight. This is his chance to make a clean move.
Floch smoothly removes his jacket, holding it casually over his arm to conceal his weapon. Stepping forward, he presses the cold barrel of the gun firmly into the small of Eren's back, causing the man to tense up. Eren shifts his head slightly, stealing a glimpse of Floch's face from the corner of his eye, his expression a mix of surprise and recognition. Floch leans in, his voice a low whisper in Eren's ear.
"Long time no see, huh? Where have you been hiding, Eren?"
Eren's features soften somewhat as he glances back at him. "Floch."
"You're coming with me, leave your luggage behind you won't need it. No sudden moves now, just follow my lead," the redhead commands, pulling Eren away from the station. He spots Mikasa in the distance, searching for the titan shifter he knows she won't let go without a fight.. Floch presses the gun deeper into Eren's back. "There's no way out of this, Yeager. I won't hesitate like the rest of your friends." He sneers at Eren, who remains remarkably composed.
"And I sure as hell won't miss,"