"In order to maneuver it decently, you also have to support your weight. Make sure to generate enough force to propel yourself forward using the gas tanks," he lectures. At this point, I wonder whether I'm dumb or if he's just yapping. Either way, the information isn't registering. "You shoot the hooks like this," he says, expertly firing the hooks into the top branch of a nearby tree. "Then press the trigger to activate the gas and propel yourself. Did I lose you yet?"

Yes. "No. Sounds easy," I lie, my voice betraying the tremor in my hands.

"Good. Show me."

"What?", I blink, unsure whether I've heard him correctly. "It's the first day. Aren't you supposed to teach me the theory before the practice?"

"You learn by practicing, not by me shoving a bunch of information down your throat on the get-go," he argues. "Now, watch and follow." His hooks are still buried into the tree, so all he does is activate his gear and faster than my eye can see, he's already moving through the air and gracefully lands on the branch. "Your turn," he calls down.

I grab my shaking hand in an attempt to still it and nod. I can do this.

My hooks are initially aimed at the same branch Levi is waiting on. But in a second's panic, I redirect them towards the base of the tree rather than the top and press the trigger. The pull forces me to fall and instead of propelling me upwards, the force drags me along the ground. I can't react as I'm hauled through the bushes, twigs slapping my face in passage.

By the time I reach the base, I'm already done cursing the universe as a whole, barely noticing the tangled heap I'm in when Levi stands over me. "I didn't think you'd take the 'three dimensions' part so literally to include the horizontal axis."

"Go to hell. Your shit is defective." I sit up, my pride more hurt than my body.

"I think it's more of a user problem," he retorts dryly. "I'd help you up but I'm not interested in getting filthy."

Scoffing, I stand and brush off the dirt. "No need."

"Again. And this time, don't mop the ground. Focus on where you need to be," he instructs but that's not the problem.

"Please, I have a brother! He's waiting for me to come back, don't let go."

I unknowingly look up at the tree. It looks gigantic.

Levi observes with a slight frown, probably wondering what the delay is about. "You're hesitating. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I reply.

An exasperated sigh escapes his mouth. He's clearly not known for his patience. "You can't improve if you don't confront whatever's holding you back."

"I'm scared of heights," I admit under the reasoning that given his observational skills, he'd find out anyway. Originally dreading his reaction thinking he'd mock me, his face is rather examining me. "I just can't fucking do it. I think I can until I come face to face with a high platform and then I freeze."

"That's a problem," he states like he's teaching me something new. "How were you planning on killing any titan on ground level?"

"You haven't seen my aim," I mutter defensively.

He scoffs. "Swords are built to slice, not throw. What world are you living in? Get a grip or you're no use to anyone."

Normally, my instinct would be to lash out. His words should anger me. Instead, my anger is directed at myself. How am I supposed to execute my mission successfully if I can't survive? The prospect of death doesn't scare me, but dying a failure isn't something I'd accept.

"I don't do it on purpose," I say quietly. "And I'm not asking for any sympathy from you, just... a solution to this problem."

He pauses. "Alright." He picks up the equipment from the ground to place it back in its rightful place, "I have to get to a meeting. Erwin needs my help with those shitty formations for tomorrow's mission. We can pick up where we left off next week."

"Next week?", I frown, having a hard time believing that. Surviving outside the wall for a week straight is impossible. "Missions last a day at most."

He turns back, his eyes hard as steel. "A day for the mission, yes. The remainder of the week is consecrated to tallying the casualties and identifying what's left of them—if we're lucky enough to find anything at all."

He leaves and I instinctively stare down at my uniform's emblem, remembering something.

The badges.

The most boring part of my days is the theoretical classes about titans. Seated away from the adrenaline of the field, it's in these moments that I become aware of the gap between my knowledge and theirs. They are naively oblivious to the truths of the world beyond – and even of themselves. "Man-eating monsters", that's what they refer to titans as. If only they knew.

Thankfully, Instructor Kaito Vogel is more lenient than Shadis, allowing me to zone out without any repercussions.

"Now, based on everything I've explained so far, a Q&A may come in handy to review what we've covered. True or false, the utilization of cannons preceded the three-dimensional maneuver gear..." I'm jolted out of my thoughts by a sudden flicker of movement. A crumpled piece of paper, thrown from the back of the class, lands precisely on my desk.

Glancing back, I see Oruo gesturing towards Petra, who I assume is his intended recipient. Ignoring the frantic head shake he gives me, a clear warning, I unfold the paper. The messy handwriting reads: "If I were a titan, I'd save the best bite for last."

Try as I might, I can barely stifle my snort. Petra leans in to see what's so funny, and her face rapidly contorts into a grimace once she reads the note. Meanwhile, Vogel's monotone drones on in the background, totally oblivious. "We have yet to discover what drives titans to eat humans, Schultz. Some may even suggest that..."

She scribbles a response and passes the note back to me. "Try harder." With nothing else to do to pass the time, I flick the paper missile at Oruo, hitting him right on his forehead. He touches the struck spot with a mock hurt look, and I give him a shrug and a smug smile, as if to say, "Consider that free aiming practice."

"God, when is this gonna end?", Petra whines, though I'm unsure if she's referring to the lesson or Oruo's relentless flirting.

"Don't know. Wake me up when it's over," I slump forward, cradling my head in the crook of my arms.

"How the hell do you manage to score high on the trivia tests when all you do is sleep?"

Because I was taught all of this more than once. "Blame it on my inherent intelligence. "

"Now, based on our discussions," Vogel continues, scanning the room, "True or false: It is possible to survive outside the walls for an extended period."

One student raises his hand, "False, sir. Survival is impossible without the protection of the walls."

The instructor nods, "That's the commonly held belief," he remarks, glancing at the time. "Interestingly, history has shown us exceptions, though we don't have time to get into that. You're all dismissed." Exceptions?

The class empties and Oruo catches up to me. "Hey, you could've given me a heads up before launching that note at my head," he complains. "Lucky you, I have a high pain tolerance."

"Clearly not if you're crying over a paper ball," I reply, hastily packing my things.

"He's just not used to getting hit by anything other than his own ego," Petra chimes in.

Oruo, indignant, turns to her. "I'll have you know, my charm is irresistible to most. You'd notice if you weren't busy drooling over Captain lev-"

"Shut up," she silences him. "I don't drool, I respect him, nothing more. And you should too if you want to climb up the ladder in ranks."

Deciding to remove myself from their bickering, I head to the instructor. "Sir, before you go, can I ask you something?"

His face lights up, as if it's uncommon for anyone to ask him anything. "Ah, I knew you were more curious than you looked."

"You mentioned exceptions to surviving outside the walls. Could you elaborate?"

He adopts a thoughtful stance. "Ah, yes, the exceptions. It's not widely discussed, but there have been rare instances."

"How?" I counter. "I mean, I was always under the impression the world beyond was nothing but Titans. Could you provide any information on how they managed that? Or who they were?"

Glancing around, he says, "Well, it's not something we usually discuss openly, but..."

"I'm just fascinated by the subject, sir. Any insight would be incredibly educational for me."

He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "Well, it's a story from some years ago. A man was found at the gates, claiming to have lost all memory. He didn't know where he came from."

"That's... odd," I comment.

"Indeed," he nods. "But despite his amnesia, his medical skills were undeniable, earning him a valuable place in the community. He married and settled down inside the walls.

"Did anyone ever discover the truth about him?"

Vogel shrugs. "If they did, it's not public knowledge. Some say he might've been a survivor against all odds. But trust didn't come easily, especially from the Military Police. Initially, there was a lot of suspicion around him. It was Shadis' endorsement that turned the tide in his favor. Without his support, he would've likely been seen as a potential threat. And... well, you know how threats are dealt with."

I maintain a composed facade. "Thank you, sir," I mutter and walk away. He didn't have to say a name for me to know who he was exactly talking about.

That night, I don't eat. I'm too busy racking my head for a possible reason as to why he did what he did. Granted, he didn't have anywhere else to find shelter except in the one civilization blissfully unaware of the world beyond. But restarting a life, a family even, is cruel. Was destroying one not enough for him?

Now, like it or not, that kid is my responsibility.

Zeke said it. We don't abandon family.

I reach under my pillow for my piece of comfort only to grasp at emptiness. Panic fills me as I lift it, revealing not the armband, but a note in its place:

"Forest. -L"