"So, what is it you remember?"
Effectively capturing the flood of words pouring forth from people's mouths in response to that question proved to be daunting. Those who accepted the invitation to share their version of "the truth" felt profoundly appreciative when they recognized that they were being taken seriously by the officials. Crafting coherence from their narratives required a meticulous approach involving structured inquiries and careful probing to unveil the essential details. Recognizing her own limitations, Zoë enlisted two assistants to aid in the undertaking. In just a week, they had amassed hundreds of pages chronicling "nut-case" stories.
"Is that all for today, Commander?" Florian, an earnest, blond young man with glasses, asked politely after the last interview for the day. He had tidied up his desk already while she had sat staring into the void. The other assistant, an energetic young mother, had already left. Zoë hadn't even noticed.
"Yes," she smiled at him apologetically and waved goodbye. "You did well."
After he had left, Zoë's gaze fixated on the stacks of documents sprawled before her. The system she and Armin had devised was straightforward; they organized the narratives based on the most frequently recurring themes. Subsequently, they adjusted the interview questions to delve deeper into areas where more information was needed.
What genuinely unsettled her was the striking similarity between the stories.
Essentially, she faced two options: Either she could hold onto the notion that what they were confronting was a manifestation of mass hysteria, or she could entertain the unsettling possibility that Levi Ackerman had spoken the truth. Somebody had wiped the collective memories of a world haunted by monstrous creatures, leaving only a select few with memories intact, either due to a mistake or by design.
The second option made no sense.
Wiping the memories of an entire population was scientifically implausible, downright impossible. Levi's account of such a plan - in which she herself had been involved! - seemed preposterous. Executing something of this magnitude was beyond feasibility. No, it defied all reason — and yet, paradoxically, it made a chilling kind of sense.
It was many things, really: Annie, for example, suddenly walking out of prison one day, with no clear recollection why she had been in it and no records to tell them the reason either, certain that she had come to Paradis from Marley years ago on a secret mission she couldn't recall. Or the walls and their inexplicable, simultaneous collapse. Sabotage? Not likely. Also, the concentration camps in Liberio, for a population who were, they claimed themselves, much hated refugees from Paradis. Only that nobody had any notion of when they had left the island to live on the mainland nor what the reason for it had been.
All of this? easily explained by the outrageous claim from…
"Hey," a gravelly voice said from the door.
Zoë's head snapped up. Her treacherous heart started a telltale gallop at the sight of the man leaning leisurely against the door frame. He looked very handsome in a dark brown suit and snow-white shirt. He was never far from her thoughts but she preferred having him near in person.
"Hi," her lips curled into a smile. "Should I scold the guards for letting you stroll in, or did you manage to sneak past them?"
He shrugged and entered the room. "They're getting used to me."
His black hair gleamed like the wings of a raven in the lamplight, eliciting a tense anticipation in her stomach. He was an enigma. His presence carried a predatory aura, and the proximity to him sparked a peculiar excitement within her.
"So… you are 'humanity's strongest'?" She indicated the documents on the desk. Three people had called him that today. Three! He was a legend among the crazies. A demi-god. In a weird way, it made her jealous that others knew this about him and she didn't.
"Tsk," he scoffed. "I never liked that title."
Zoë pondered his response. Despite the greatness attributed to him by others, there was a discernible humility in his dismissal of the title. It hinted at a man not entirely comfortable with the pedestal upon which others had placed him, a quality that spoke volumes about the complexity of his character.
"Then I want you back in the military," she confronted him. The thought had been brewing in her mind for the past few days. Having him by her side… It felt natural. Necessary.
Levi stilled. His intense gaze locked onto hers. "What happened? Do you...?"
She shook her head, reluctant to witness the disappointment that might cloud his face. No, she didn't remember. Yet, all the signs pointed in a direction that troubled her: The ones deemed "crazy" seemed to be the sane ones, and the delusion, she suspected, did not belong to them.
"I see," he quipped. "But you are ready to believe the crazies who talk about me."
Could he really blame her? She grasped the offense, perhaps hurt, evident in his reaction to her inability to recall anything he claimed had transpired between them. Not that Zoë couldn't envision being with him — he was undeniably attractive. But he had to comprehend the peculiarity of meeting someone for the first time only to be informed in that very meeting that she was pregnant with his child!
"I'm sorry," she sighed in frustration, her hand sneaking to her belly. Of course, she had started to wonder about the night during which this child had been conceived. Had it been… good? The thought started a warmth in the lower part of her body for which she had no use right now.
"I'm not rejoining the military," frowning, Levi looked to the right, where the portraits of the previous Commanders adorned the wall. "I'm done."
And he had moved on quickly. Beneath their feet, Levi Ackerman had fashioned an empire. According to what people shared with her, he had laid the groundwork years ago—money strategically placed in the hands of individuals who transformed his modest investments into substantial returns. The cycle continued: more funds to the right people led to even greater gains. Presently, the Underground was a destination for leisure, with dark corners still lingering but destined to fade with time. Queen Historia, so she heard, was greatly pleased with the transformation.
"Ready?" He asked.
"Yes, we should go," Zoë said after throwing a glance at the clock.
Levi held up her coat so that she could slip into it. Despite his gruff exterior, there were many attentive gestures from him and they all made her feel girlish and giggly.
"So… How do you know my father?"
Imagine her surprise upon learning that Levi Ackerman had received a dinner invitation to the Hange mansion. She was curious enough about the reason to endure sitting at the same table with her dad and had told Levi to pick her up on his way so that they could go together.
"In this life, it's about business," Levi said curtly. What kind of non-answer was this?!
"And in the previous one…?"
"You don't want to know, Hanji."
Wrong, she did. She wanted to know everything about him.
"No need to dwell on some aspects of the past," he added, casting a glance her way. Clearly, nothing pleasant lingered there—though, considering her father, pleasantness wasn't to be expected.
"Will you pluck him?" she inquired as they descended the stairs together.
"Tsk," Levi chuckled. "If you want me to. It's about overseas investments. It would be easy to cheat him."
He had disclosed that he invested in Marley too, which had begun when he had lived there. When they had both lived there. Partially together. When they had made a child.
Again, Zoë's hand sneaked to her belly. She hadn't believed she was pregnant, not even after Felix Grütter confirmed Levi's suspicion. Maybe she still didn't believe it. Someone like her? With a child?! It was a terrifying thought.
"Should have realized it earlier, I'm sorry," the Doctor had said, embarrassed that he had missed the signs. It was even more embarrassing to her, walking around in the world completely ignorant of her condition! But then again, she wouldn't have thought it possible. Sure, she had bled, but not regularly and only after Ernst von Bergmann, may he rest in peace, had given her something against her hormonal imbalance. So, either Levi was very, very virile or they had done it many, many times… she swallowed. Not helping with the tingly feelings.
"Does something bother you?" Levi asked, his eyes following the movement of her hand, lingering on the little bump that had formed above the rim of her trousers.
"No, no," she was quick to assure him.
But of course it bothered her. A child. In this world? They needed to talk about it, but that was easier said than done.
Levi and Zoë strolled through the almost deserted streets of Mitras, the city's majestic architecture towering over them like silent sentinels. The evening had draped the urban landscape in a gentle darkness, intensified by the glistening sheen of moisture on the cobblestones from an earlier rain. The air carried the crisp scent of wetness and woodsmoke. Gas lanterns flickered to life, casting a warm glow that painted the surroundings in a soft, amber hue. And yet, their shared journey became a silent corridor of missed conversations, each step carrying the weight of unspoken words.
And it suddenly seemed to Zoë that this felt familiar: That in another life, another time, they had equally missed the opportunity to say what needed to be said. That it was a mistake. What was she afraid of?
He was here. He was with her. Maybe she should make sure it stayed that way.
###
The enormous Hange mansion, sprawling along the entire side of the largest square near the royal palace, commanded attention with its sheer size and architectural prowess. Its presence was an opulent statement in the heart of the city, a testament to both wealth and influence.
To Levi, it was a thief's paradise. The first time he had stepped into it, that thought had crossed his mind, and the memory elicited a subtle twitch of his lips. Levi easily recognized kindred spirits, and in the form of Zoë's father, Council Hange, he found one. Only a cunning thief could have emerged virtually unscathed, wealth intact, from the tumultuous pages of Paradis' history like he had.
The passing years had left their mark, visible in the aging lines on Hange's face, but the nobleman retained an aura of pride and stature. With centuries of nobility coursing through his bloodline, Hange weathered the changing world with the resilience and arrogance of one who had long been accustomed to calling the shots.
"Mr. Ackerman," he extended a hand in greeting and frowned in apparent confusion the next moment. "Have we met?"
"Yes, we have," Levi pressed the offered hand with little warmth but great satisfaction, "but you likely don't remember the details."
"You know my daughter?" Council Hange's puzzled look shifted to Hanji, whose presence here seemed to be a surprise.
"Intimately well," Levi replied with a smirk that gave the nobleman the intended pause. Before Council Hange could decide whether to ask how that was meant, a rasped exclamation made everyone turn their heads.
"Is this my Elior?"
Here we go again. Levi braced himself, turning towards the tottering white-haired figure hobbling towards him with the help of an elegant cane.
"Mother," Council Hange hurried to her side to take her arm. "You shouldn't walk around unassisted."
"How do you do, Dowager Duchess Hange?" Levi dipped his head in greeting. Now this was interesting: Grandma Clothilde also had her memories intact, if one could call it that, given how senile the old lady had already been years ago. Eren, Levi decided, had been sloppy. But what else could you expect from an over-excited teenager?
"Call me Clothilde!" The ancient woman winked, trying to bat away her son's hand on her arm. "I am so glad to see you!"
"Who is Elior?" Hanji whispered into his ear as they made their way towards the dining room.
"The dashing Ackerman groom who lived on the Hange estate about ninety years ago," Levi smirked. "Hange women are into Ackerman men, they just can't help it!"
"Huh," Hanji said with a frown.
How he enjoyed surprising her with facts about the past. Her eyes took on a faraway look when she tried to sort the new information into what she thought was true and inevitably failed. She was still resisting, of course she was - but she had started to believe him, Levi had clearly noticed the change in her behavior. Hanji, the smartest person he knew, was connecting the pieces, completing a puzzle whose original picture eluded her understanding. There had to be a point where her mind could no longer deny the evidence - and then, he hoped, she would finally remember everything.
They ate well in Mitras - there was so much food Levi could hardly keep up. The dining experience began with a selection of fine cheeses, stuffed grape leaves, and smoked salmon canapés for appetizers. The main course featured a centerpiece of succulent roast lamb, a seafood paella reflecting coastal influences, and stuffed bell peppers. Sides included creamy mashed potatoes with truffle oil, grilled vegetables, and a refreshing salad. For dessert, there was a decadent chocolate fondue, assorted pastries, and the sweet layers of baklava. All of this was accompanied by a fine wine and aromatic herbal infusions.
Grandma Clothilde babbled happily, but Hanji was very quiet, quite unusually though. Maybe she wasn't feeling well, that was normal during the first months of a pregnancy, the Doctor had told Levi and he had tried not to worry too much about it. Or maybe she was put off by the riches her father displayed so lavishly and he couldn't blame her. It had been years since hunger had plagued more than half of Paradis' inhabitants, but money still made a difference, and so did the availability of delicacies for those with the means to pay. Delicacies that his trading company provided.
"So, Mr. Ackerman," after they had been served coffee - urgh, he hated the foul brew - Council Hange dabbed his napkin against his lips before folding it neatly and putting it on the table, "I understand you are looking for a business partner? Tell me more about it."
Easy: The more money the better. People wanted to be fed and he had learned from Sasha's cook that they liked to be fed well.
"I see," Council Hange nodded, a greedy sheen to his eyes. He'd be perfect in a scheme to keep the grabby Azumabitos at bay, a patriot despite everything, a man ready to fight for his and by extension the island's interests. "What are the conditions for a partnership?"
Levi told him. It was a simple profit-sharing arrangement, nothing complicated. Given how little Levi liked the man, co-ownership was out of the question. Council Hange haggled over the percentage he would receive for a bit until Levi offered a tiered structure - a fairly low percentage until a certain profit threshold and a considerably higher percentage beyond that threshold. A good way to ensure someone's sustained devotion to a business idea.
"It is a deal."
The nobleman extended his hand across the table to shake on it.
Wasn't it ironic that Levi was in this house that smelled faintly of lilac and starch, alive and well, and finally knew with certainty that his mind was entirely his own? Moreover, he had been given a second chance to live his best life yet. And even better, he was in a position to make many people's lives equally good.
"Not quite," Levi leaned back and couldn't help but grin in anticipation of the mayhem that would follow his next words. "To seal the deal, I ask for the hand of your daughter in marriage."
###
She should have cut his fucking head off, Zoë fumed. With the steak knife, for lack of a better weapon. What the fuck kind of right did he think he had over her life?! Marriage?! She would never get married!
"I can walk by myself, shitty-glasses," the most hateful man she had ever known grumbled. Yet, he wasn't resisting being dragged along the corridor. Actually, she was pretty sure he was enjoying himself immensely judging from the smug expression on his handsome face. Where was she even headed? Zoë noticed the library door up ahead. Good enough. Just away from her father and her insane grandmother who had behaved like a teenager in love around Levi, it was quite embarrassing to watch!
As soon as she had slammed the library door shut behind them, a cascade of sensations assaulted her and something shifted in her brain. An ephemeral veil almost lifted, and a scene almost unfolded before Zoë's mind's eye. It was like a dream, yet more tangible, as if reality itself were reaching out from the recesses of her subconscious.
"Here?" Levi scoffed, lifting his eyebrows in apparent amusement. "Alright, let's do this."
Do what? He went to the shelves, his hand danced over the wood briefly and with a soft click, a part of the wall shifted, revealing the secret room behind. Fuck this. He had been here before. They had been here before.
He pushed her inside and closed the passage behind them with a click. Darkness engulfed them. The space behind the shelves was very narrow, meant as a hiding place for one person, not two. So close. Levi radiated heat like a furnace and yet she was quivering: It was from nerves and because of him. She realized she had held her breath, now that she didn't, her brain noticed that he smelled very nice. Nice and exciting. A sweet, sweet ache started in the depth of her belly. Oh great. This wasn't exactly the kind of punishment she had had in mind for his insolence.
He inhaled sharply and her knees went weak. It was exactly what he had had in mind, was it? His hot breath touched her neck – oh, she wanted this! - then his lips followed, hesitant and searching, making a violent shiver race from her head to her toes.
"Levi…," she whispered, putting her hands around him. Her brain was beginning to fog over. He made a sound in his throat, like a deep sigh was wrenched from his very core, and he slung his arms around her middle too like a man drowning and holding on for dear life.
"Hanji, my Hanji," he groaned.
In the past weeks, he had taken her on many little outings, to places she remembered and yet did not. Admittedly, she had had the hots for him for weeks now. He was just too sexy to resist, all that cocky, gruff manliness, he was exactly her type, and a woman had needs, dammit, her body felt parched like a desert, and she wanted this and probably more. Yes, more. Her lips went to his, met their firm, inviting heat. Daringly, her tongue traced the contours of his mouth. A soft growl from his throat made the hair on her body stand up. Her nipples stiffened when his demanding tongue entered her mouth first. Her tongue answered his, stroking it hungrily. More. More of this. The taste of him… it left her suspended in a temporal limbo where the boundaries of past and present blurred. Was she falling? It sure felt like it.
"Levi…," she whispered again, with a shudder that shook her entire body.
Now what? She wanted to touch his skin, her hands were already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. She nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth as she pulled his shirt out of his trousers with one hand. There it was. His silky, scarred skin. The landscape of his body was much too familiar. A haunting sense of a lost connection hit her, a symphony of emotions lingering like whispers on the edge of her consciousness. In that moment, she sensed a profound truth eluding her grasp, a memory almost within reach, slipping away like grains of sand through her fingertips.
"Help me remember," she begged, her hands roaming over his back, his hips, opening his belts, his trousers. She was rocking against him, sweet friction increasing her lust, he was big and deliciously hard.
He chuckled, his breath coming fast. "This is the kind of enthusiasm I hoped to get for such a proper proposal," he teased her, his hot mouth clamping over one of her nipples to suck through the fabric. The sensation was heavenly and she grabbed his hair with both hands for balance.
"Say my name," he commanded, skilled hands slipping underneath her shirt, circling her belly, dipping lower where she burnt for him.
"Levi," she moaned.
"I'm right here," he panted. "And I won't leave again, you hear me, Hanji?"
How undignified it was to rut in a tiny cupboard while her relatives were looking for them outside. How exciting. How glorious! Had she locked the library door? Who cares! Poor Grandma might get the shock of her life! His fingers danced over her sensitive nub, but no foreplay was necessary, she had been ready from the moment he had held her father in a figurative choke-hold, skillfully using the aging man's greed to further his own interests. Her pussy pulsed enthusiastically when it felt the hot tip of his penis at its entrance, it was, and that thought made her laugh, as if it welcomed a dear, old friend.
"Oh, damn!" She squealed when he pushed into her slowly, the height difference making it a perfect angle. Chasing the incredible sensation of perfect fullness, she circled her hips, faster and faster, shaking and moaning. Okay, now I know. It does feel good with him. Very good.
"Your pussy remembers?" His voice held amusement and need. "Better than nothing. Much better than nothing."
Laughing, she came, her whole body shook and shook, there wasn't enough room to fall, he held her upright, impaled, he grabbed her ass with both hands to push into her faster and more forcefully, his tongue chasing and finding hers.
"Actually, we are already married by the Law of the Underground," he panted. "But you will soon show and I don't want you to have a hard time. We should do it properly."
A pregnant Commander? Indeed, there would be questions about her fitness for office when that bump got bigger. As for doing it properly… a second orgasm was building, so yeah, they were definitely doing it properly.
"Besides," he growled when she began chasing it with fast movements, "I don't want other men sniffing around you. You are mine."
With a grunt, he spilled himself deep inside of her, her pussy walls clenching around him happily. In an unexpected surge, fragments of a lost life surged forth like a long-lost melody, wrapping around Zoë Hange's consciousness. There but not quite there, faces of enemies and friends, laughter that echoed in her ears, and the scent of a distant breeze that carried whispers of shared moments.
Zoë felt the warmth of Levi's presence, the strength of his arms, and a quiet understanding that defined their connection.
Home. I'm home.
###
Their daughter was born in the summer of 856. She was, Levi was ready to fight and punish anyone who dared to disagree, the most beautiful child to ever grace this earth, with big, brown eyes, the cutest button nose and a fierce, cunning cry that spoke of intelligence and willpower.
To name her Ymir seemed appropriate.
It was out of thankfulness: The goddess had granted him another chance. Perhaps his actions had forced her hand, perhaps it was all part of her plans, he didn't know for sure. But he felt grateful for the life she had made possible. Sometimes, during quiet moments, he also felt afraid of what she might still do. So yeah, appeasing her seemed like a good idea too.
His daughter was an Ackerman. Her blood, just like his, held fragments of Titan power.
Hanji remembered fragments, but not everything. The memories might all return, or they might remain emotional fragments. It was good enough for him. They were making new memories, just like all the others. Armin and Annie, Sasha and her cook, Jean and Pieck, Connie, the ex-Warriors in Marley minus Zeke who had died, good riddance. Levi, finding a magnanimous streak within himself, sometimes included him in his thoughts when he prayed for lasting peace and prosperity in front of his little shrine, erected to commemorate the dead.
He was still the only one alive capable of mourning all they had lost, and the only one who understood the sacrifices Eren and Mikasa had made. They would not be in vain, Levi had vowed. He would make sure Eren's legacy wasn't forgotten. He would write it all down, every single moment in the past that had led to this. It was going to be a warning for future generations. But also a testimony of hope.
They were living their best life and he would make it count.
The End
