Chapter 1

Destination: 2,000 Years Later

The vast, colossal tree (known as the World Tree or Tree of Life) is an archetype that appears all over the world from Native America to Siberia and aboriginal Australia. One of the oldest recorded accounts of the World Tree is of Babylonian origin and stems from about 3000 - 4000 BC and is believed to stand in the middle of the universe.

The Tree of life influenced much of the Celtic, Anglo-Saxon, and Nordic customs, as well as those in Southeastern Europe and Asia. In many pre-Christian religions across the world, trees have been linked to the journey to the underworld, with the gate of death and the soul's transition from this life to the next. Fascination with trees originates from various cultures in some form or another. Some find worship and a threat to their religion. Others the aesthetic beauty, utilizing trees as resources, as well as finding value in stories and lore.

Then there are the few that believe one tree holds the secret to a past forgotten. A history of grotesque annihilation that was a stain on mankind, forever scrubbed from books and human minds.

It is here that the story takes place, where one legacy ends, and another picks up the pieces in a hunt for the truth of Paradis.

The grit of loose gravel under his boot added a soothing texture to the unending sounds of air heaving from his lungs. Up ahead, Mike remained at a constant pace, breathing equally deep as they lugged their packs up the side of the mountain. Not that Erwin could necessarily hear over his own exhales and blood pumping in his ears. But the forward posture and curled shoulders of the taller man was enough to prove the exertion was not being felt by Erwin alone.

It wasn't the weight of the packs that made the trek verge on the edge of being miserable. They had packed relatively light considering being in such a remote location. The pair had made sure to pack only the essentials:

-MREs

-Water bladder and filtration

-Tarp for shelter and paracord

-Folded shovel and pickaxe

-Few sticks of dynamite

-Weapons (a rifle and handgun each)

-Spare clothes

-And a few Rubbermaid containers to hold smaller items. (The plastic containers also worked to preserve any artifacts the pair may find along the way and keep it safe.)

It was the bare minimum for what they hoped would be a few days of exploration. Severely under packed by normal archeologists' standards to the point that the pair would be viewed as naïve, amateur fools in scholarly circles. The butt of pompous jokes and snide remarks of how the Smith name was sullied by the surviving son of an esteemed Professor. Yet, in the end, it did not matter any.

Erwin had long since exited that world of academic exclusiveness and status, choosing to join the British Military after his father's death. When compared to the elite funding archeologists were supplied with, it made sense that they would baulk at the modest packs and chuckle. But again, it didn't bother Erwin Smith. He was adept at making the most with limited resources and not relying on outside funding to do so.

It didn't bother him one bit.

Overhead, the August sun was shielded by a thick swathe of clouds, offering reprieve to the panting men. Currently, the pair were traversing the Tarvagatai range, situated in the northern Khangai Mountains in central Mongolia. The country's weather was a mild welcome to the foreigners yet had the ability to change rather quickly due to its location between mountains, desert, and being just inland of the Yellow Sea. The steep terrain they were currently scaling was scattered with forest-steppe vegetation and large boulders from centuries of weathering against the cliffs, but the temperature remained tolerable.

Pausing to adjust the straps of his backpack, Erwin shifted his weight to observe over his shoulder the land they had scaled. The plains below were framed by smaller foothills where trees dispersed in favor of grasses. Somewhere hidden along the hills, their small, rented vehicle sat alone, but not abandoned. A strange object in a land where nomads and horses were common, and the nearest road was hours away. Just as out of place as the two Englishmen on the mountainside. But what really caught Erwin's eye was the large split in the earth that carved for kilometers across the land. Like a massive seam, it was a geological scar from a past earthquake. While he was not a geologist, hardly an archeologist, Erwin found it fascinating all the same.

"Are we taking a break?" a strained voice wavered ahead, pulling Erwin from his observation.

The man looked back at his friend who bounced his pack higher on his shoulders, rifle tapping across the top from the movement.

"What? You need a time out, Mike?" Erwin started up the slope again to close the distance between them. "Old age catching up to you already?"

Mike huffed with a mocking glare. "We're the same age, you pillock."

"Doesn't answer my question." Erwin patted him on the shoulder as he passed, continuing the journey toward the crest of the range.

Mike grumbled something under his breath before following, pulling the tube from his shoulder strap to drink some water from his camelback. "Don't think that I don't see what's going on."

"Hm? What are you referring to?"

"The good mood you're in. If this was any other assignment, you'd be taking a break right about now. Enjoying the misery with me."

"I'm not a masochist, Mike. I wouldn't find enjoyment in misery."

"You know what I mean, smartass. My point is, you're as happy as a kid in a candy shop, somehow immune to this dreary hike."

"What else did you expect? That I wouldn't be ecstatic at the news of a possible lead to Paradis after all this time?"

"I just didn't think you'd be in this good of a mood. We still haven't found anything yet, let alone the town's foundations."

"But we're close. We should start to see something once we reach the top." As if to reaffirm his assumptions, Erwin paused to lift the Suunto compass that dangled from his neck and angled it in front of him.

Tucked somewhere at the bottom of Erwin's pack was the handheld GPS device, idle as usual on his ventures. Having access to GPS was nice, however having relied on the compass since his navigation training left Erwin more comfortable with the skill. Not to mention, there was always some degree of inaccuracy with GPS regardless of where they were at.

Satellites, despite the numerous orbiting out of site above them, rarely mapped their location within 50 feet of their desired spot when moving at a steady pace. To most, 50 feet may not sound like much, though when searching for something in the middle of unfamiliar wilderness or on a mission in foreign territory, 50 feet could tip the scales out of your favor. At least with a compass, the only downside was human error. The wrong declination set, not properly calculating the azimuth, or putting it too close to a metal object.

Mike halted beside him, taking another sip of his water as he side-eyed the rectangular compass while Erwin took note of their bearing. Erwin felt his lips tug upward, waiting for a rude comment from his counterpart, but was a little disappointed when the taller man remained quiet. Mike was team GPS, usually eager to tell Erwin that he needed to "get with the times" and "make their lives easier with new technology".

Perhaps he felt like it was a futile argument to make at that point, or maybe he decided it was more important to try to regain control of his breathing. Either way, Erwin made a mental note that the GPS remained untouched on the shoulder strap of Mike's bag, so the man couldn't be all that concerned.

"Kind of wish I went to Egypt with the others now," Mike commented as Erwin closed the case and nodded in the direction they needed to go; a slight 15o adjustment to the left. The taller man took the lead as Erwin fell in step behind him. "At least it's flat there."

"Much hotter and sandier too."

"May be worth it if I don't have to climb mountains."

An impatient glare at his back went unnoticed by Mike before Erwin's thoughts drifted to the other half of their team. He had been tempted to take Floch with him to Mongolia instead, if only to shadow the young man's progress himself. The 23-year-old had served 6 years in the German military as an infantryman, earning high praise with his use of a rifle before being hired by Erwin. While he had proven a useful member of the team, Floch was still green with youth and needed a steady hand to redirect his efforts every now and then.

Still, the reason for deciding on Mike to join him was another issue altogether. Although Erwin trusted Mike to be his second in command, the job in Egypt was a relatively simple task that Nanaba and Floch could handle easily. The woman was a reason in itself to keep Mike with him rather than unsupervised. A simple mission with his sweetheart increased the odds that Mike would grow complacent and start to treat the assignment like a vacation. While he was reliable and clever, for sure, even the strongest willed men grew lax when tempted with their enamored fiancé.

Now, it wasn't an unreasonable assumption on Erwin's part. The very scenario had happened one time too many in Portugal five months prior, and Erwin was keen to prevent it from happening again, much to Mike's dismay. Nanaba was a good sport with the new restrictions and merely found it as ammunition to tease Mike with a sanguine smile and promise that it would make him miss her more.

"But the mission got completed and no one was hurt," Mike had argued, trying to defend his neglect to guard their client. "I don't see the issue."

"Just because you got lucky slacking off once, does not mean it will happen next time."

"There won't be a next time, Erwin."

"You're correct. Because you two won't be teamed on small assignments anymore unless there's a third member joining you."

It had taken Mike nearly the rest of the day to speak to him again after he had time to cool down. The taller man was loyal to Erwin but growing up with each other tended to create some animosity when reminded that Erwin was in charge of their group.

It was past noon by the time Mike reached the top of the slope, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees and catch his breath. Erwin was a few paces behind, picking his way across the slippery foothold that Mike had previously traversed.

"Holy hell… Erwin, you need to see this."

Spurred on with a renewed sense of eagerness, Erwin hastily pushed through the shrubs and loose rocks until coming beside Mike. Just below them was another narrow valley squeezed between the foothills. It was a relatively normal formation aside from the indentations along the floor, just deep enough to show through where some grass had recovered from the disturbance.

"What the hell is that?"

Huge imprints, each one large enough to fit their car into, were stamped into the soil heading west along the valley.

"Those look to be preserved footprints," Erwin explained, mind running through the unexpected discovery at lightning speed. Quickly, he knelt to the ground and shrugged off his bag to start digging inside before pulling out a worn leather journal. Flipping to the next available page, he produced a pen and started to take notes with a sketch of the prints and jotting their coordinates. "Take a picture, will you."

"Sure," Mike agreed, pulling his phone out to help document from their vantage point. "But… those aren't normal footprints. I feel like that's obvious, but you're not having the same reaction, so…. Just wanted to politely point it out. In case you didn't, you know… notice…"

Erwin didn't spare his partner a look, merely humming as his pen scribbled across the page. "This is fascinating…"

Mike took a few more photos before putting the phone back in his pocket. Glancing at his kneeling friend, his frown only grew. "Erwin… If you know something about this, I'd like to hear it."

"To be honest, I… I'm thinking this is connected." His pen stilled as his entire attention returned to the massive footprints.

"Right…" Mike had a feeling he was going to regret this. "You're going to need to explain to me more."

The bright shine in Erwin's cerulean gaze flickered toward him and Mike realized he was in for an informative lecture.

"What we're looking at are preserved footprints, also known as… ichnites—if I remember correctly from Uni. Anyway, it's a type of trace fossil that acts as vignettes. Usually, they are found in non-carbonated, sandier soils, but I suppose alpine soil makes sense too. Especially in higher elevation where permafrost layers can preserve the print over time."

Erwin vaguely recalled his father promising to take him to Bolivia to see the preserved dinosaur tracks when he was younger, but he had died before he had the chance to go.

"Trace fossils, huh?" Mike's frown shifted to the valley. "Well, sorry to break it to you but I doubt those are going to fit in a Rubbermaid."

"Hmm." Erwin put the book into his bag and stood back up, still deep in thought and missing Mike's sarcastic comment.

One would wonder how something so immense could not be discovered sooner. Well, the fact that Mongolia is the least populated country was a significant variable to that answer, hosting little arable land for agriculture and development. Another reason was that the country, as a whole, was significantly behind the rest of the world when it came to advancement and economic stability, but not for lack of want. The culture was steeped in tradition, therefore requiring little in need of improvements.

Charming and modest, Nanaba would dub it, if she was here and not in Egypt currently.

"If my assumptions are correct, I think we found the source of the town's destruction." Cerulean gaze finally pulled away from the tracks and toward the west. "We aren't far from the coordinates of the destroyed settlement, and it should be in the direction of the tracks."

"Sure, but Erwin." The ex-commander faced Mike expectantly. "What made those?"

The hesitancy in Mike's tone was enough to give Erwin a pause and cool down his excitement. As they made their way diagonally down the slope toward the west, his gaze drifted to the tracks below. The previous exhilaration he felt started to sour on his tongue as an uneasy knot formed in his throat, grounding him to the severity of the find.

His father had theories, each outlined in some way in the leather notebook in his pack. One such hypothesis was a place called Paradis that he believed to hold a great source of power that struck the world with fear. Years of research had led his father down a path that mentioned mystifying abilities that affected a race of people. Something that involved morphing or growing, but the translation was in pieces and undefinable. His father had suspected that the power or ability or whatever of Paradis and its people, was enough to cause great destruction. Hence the finding of the questionable demolishment of an entire historic town being announced on hushed radio channels between illicit comms. The same radio channels that Erwin's crew, the Scouts, had inadvertently been eavesdropping on in their free time to hear about new discoveries.

All Erwin needed now was to verify that the town was destroyed by the mysterious anthropomorphic footprints to know that it was connected to his father's hypothesis of Paradis.

"They look like the footprints of giants," Erwin finally confirmed aloud, eyes scanning the five-toed indentations. Majority of the prints were overgrown with plants or washed out, but there were still few in pristine condition.

The overall shape was different than one would expect, looking blocky and flat. Representing something that would have a strong base to stand supported, like a pillar, rather than the curved and arched foot of a normal human.

"Right… but giants aren't real. So, there has to be another explanation…"

"Like?"

"Could this be one of the wonders that has scientists thinking aliens did it? Or maybe past civilizations were bored and wanted to create the prints as a joke?"

"You're quick to justify aliens but not giants?"

"Don't get me wrong. I don't believe in either, but I'm still wondering what you think could have caused it."

"My father mentioned something in his journal that doesn't make the concept of giants seem so unreasonable."

An unhelpful comment.

"Alright, fine. I'm going to stop thinking about this until we find that town. Then we'll see if it makes any sense," Mike declared, hoping for blissful ignorance before adding under his breath, "Though I doubt it."

As they continued down the slope toward the valley, evening was approaching quickly. The sun was just hovering over the horizon and clouds were casting over the darkening sky. Erwin was lost in thought, replaying the notes of his father's book with the footprints below, trying to find that thread that connected the two more solidly. It unnerved and, yet, excited him to be on the trail of Paradis once more.

After his father was killed when he was 20, he had done all he could to pick up the clues left behind. Something settled deep in his bones, convincing him that the death of his father and the search for Paradis were related. But try as he might, his efforts to make progress to find who was responsible were impossible. As clever and talented as he was, Erwin Smith was not yet ready to take up his father's mantel and avenge his death.

Instead, he shifted gears and joined the military, learning skills, making connections, and climbing through the ranks to power. If he couldn't find answers as a student and civilian, he'd infiltrate government factions to squeeze his presence into desired circles. After 16 years, his hard work was paying off and the prospect of finding answers stoked his inner fire once again.

Before he could get further in his thoughts, Mike halted in front of him, causing Erwin to instantly freeze. Instinct was quick to trigger his subconscious to mirror movements that hinted a threat was nearby, and Mike taking the lead was one deterrent he used to avoid accidental run ins. With the man's heightened smell, he was likely to notice someone downwind before being spotted.

"Hey, are those lights I see out there?" Mike queried in the waning evening glow.

Recognizing that there was not an immediate danger, Erwin stepped to his shoulder, eyes promptly locking on the balls of yellow in the distant dusk.

"Who else would be out here?"

"Someone who, unfortunately, has a shared interest," Erwin muttered stiffly, brows dipping lower.

Any previous excitement he felt was drenched in ice water leaving him tense and cold. The effect must have been contagious because Mike's earlier complaints and sarcasm was tucked away in exchange for pulling his rifle forward.

Whoever was down in the valley would likely not welcome them to the site if they had already laid claim to it. And if work lights were on in the middle of nowhere, then it was answer enough for him that an operation was well in place.

Mike shifted on his feet, rifle settling across his arms.

"What's the plan, boss?"

"We see who decided to invite themselves. Then we'll decide."

"Right."

This time Erwin took the lead, careful to pick out a path among the rocks and spaced trees to use to break up their silhouette on the slope. The human shape was an unnatural thing to see in the wilderness and was known to draw the eye of other people or animals. He didn't want to attract anyone's attention, especially if the unknown group had guards looking for intruders.

Eventually, they get into a good position just as the sky darkened overhead and wrapped them in shadows. The breeze picked up, cooling their sweaty skin as the pair examined the camp below while tucked behind a small sapling and shrub.

The low hum of generators spilt the quiet atmosphere that powered the lights. Yellow beams illuminated various parts of the camp, some just outside a cluster of tents, others a spotlight by vehicles, and the rest highlighting the outline of foundations of what once was a town. Deep traces of the previous giant footprints were evidently the cause as rock and rubble pressed into the earth and foundation. The pleasing confirmation was lost on Erwin whose gaze only lingered briefly on the evidence before scanning the people bustling through the camp in brown and black outfits.

"I counted about 40-50 people," Mike diligently reported beside him. "No identifying markers that I can tell."

Erwin pulled out his set of binoculars from the side pocket and scanned the area below. "You're right. I don't see anything on their uniforms. If I had to guess, I'd say it has something to do with a government."

"Could it be contractors like us?"

"The only way a freelance contractor agency of that size would exist would be if they were supported by one government entity. And I've not heard of one like that. Plus, even contractors would have some identifying features to signify solidarity. It could be military working for a country and hiding their allegiance."

Erwin's hand brought the binoculars down as he surveyed the area. The pair of them were severely outnumbered to cause a conflict. Even if he had the others with him, it wouldn't make much of a difference. And going down to address them civilly was out of the question, regardless of the amount of charm Erwin wielded. The situation before him, while obviously proved a degree of politics were in play, hinted at illegal methods which were meant to keep hushed. If they went down there, they may be silenced.

Apparently, the original intel over the radio channels was picked up by a government branch, though he shouldn't be surprised. It was the Scouts, after all, that were equally unwelcomed on the radio frequency. If his calculations were correct, then in two days, the other two groups who originally discovered the town's location would be arriving. Only to find it already occupied or even stripped away with no evidence of its existence.

That meant he'd have to adjust his own strategy.

Taking a deep breath, Erwin hauled his pack in front of him, pulling out the journal once more and motioned for Mike's bag. The man didn't question it, passing it over before turning back to the camp, rifle still in a low ready. Stacking the two bags on top of each other, Erwin set his binoculars on the top, using a stick to get the angle right, before taking his pen in hand. For the next several minutes, he alternated between looking through the lenses and back to the journal.

Darkness was setting deep across the landscape, making it nearly impossible to see exactly what he was writing and sketching. Mike made use of his time keeping watch and taking pictures with his phone when something caught his eye. After 20 minutes, when it became hopeless to keep jotting notes, Erwin retired the book into his back and motioned for Mike to take his.

"Are you sure you're ready to leave?" He must have sensed the disappointment radiating off Erwin in waves because the darkness did not give anything away.

Taking a breath, Erwin held it locked in his chest before forming an answer. "There's nothing more that we can do. As much as I'd like to put hands on the foundations, I still got what I came for."

Confirmation.

His father had been correct, and it was all but confirmed that someone decided to silence him. If some power really existed to create something that would stomp out a town like a house of cards, it warranted fear of discovery. Not that it justified his father's murder.

"Let's get back home. We have work to do."

The flight back to London was not the smoothest, having to stop for a 33-hour layover in Dubai. Mike was fine with the delay, having the energy and favorable temperament to go out and eat an expensive meal, dragging an ill-tempered Erwin behind. When they finally landed in England, Moblit was waiting outside the doors with the black BMW sedan, greeting the pair with a warm smile.

"How was the trip, boss?" he asked innocently while pulling away from the curb, missing the cautioning shake of Mike's head in the rearview mirror.

Erwin propped an elbow on the window ledge, resting a sharp cheek on his knuckles. He was back to wearing a dark suit, opting for a button up, tie, and jacket rather than the three-piece. He didn't intend to go anywhere but to the Scout's base. No need to impress anyone. Mike was keen to dress even more "casually" in slacks and untucked button up with rolled up sleeves.

"Nanaba thinks its sexy," he had winked as they waited to board the last plane.

"The intel paid off. We found what we were looking for," came Erwin's impassive response.

Moblit's gaze brightened as his brows rose, not picking up on the inner turmoil of his boss. Mike sometimes wondered if Moblit's constant exposure to Hange dulled his ability to read the room.

"Really? That's fantastic! Hange and the others will be excited to hear all about it. Did you bring home any pieces?"

"No." A curt response. Bitter and sour, the taste extended to his mood.

In the back seat, Mike huffed a sigh and met Moblit's questions reflection in the mirror. "Other players on the board got there first. We documented what we could but didn't get a chance to explore what was left of the town."

"Ah." Moblit had enough sense to not press further.

For this, Mike was grateful that Hange had not accompanied him to pick them up. Then again, that didn't mean her deliberate badgering for answers would be dulled when they finally made it back to the warehouse. Perhaps the drive would give Erwin time to mentally prepare for the debriefing of the team.

Who was Mike kidding? If the two days of flying back didn't improve the man's mood, then a two-hour drive surely wouldn't.

It didn't take long to exit London's city limits once they squeezed through the traffic that was building up. The open rural roads awaited them as they travelled further north near Banbury. The soft rhythm of the radio switched between songs in the background as Mike and Moblit idly chatted.

Occasionally, the timid man would bring up some information to include Erwin in, such as Nanaba and Floch's success and how they were waiting for their return at the warehouse. Erwin would politely nod but that vacant look never was far from his gaze as he watched the fields pass by.

By the time they reached the old, abandoned warehouse, which was used for storage of freight for trains nearly 20 years prior, Mike was eager to get out of the stuffy car. He loved Erwin like a brother, but the man's mood could be intense when he was stuck plotting in his head.

As they parked inside a freight garage door, keeping the car out of plain view, the three men exited while Erwin and Mike pulled their bags from the boot.

"Have everyone in the conference room in ten minutes for debriefing." Erwin didn't wait for confirmation as he turned on his heels and headed to the office upstairs.

Mike and Moblit exchanged a glance and headed downstairs where the renovated basement had been turned into individual rooms. The main floor of the warehouse was usually the storage space for their vehicles and gear, a corner dedicated to gym equipment, card and pool table, a television, and sectional sofa. To the left, along the wall was a doorway that led to a staff kitchen and dining/conference room. It wasn't much, but it was home to them. One of the many bases the Scout's owned and by far the most frequented.

Erwin's office, on the top floor, was shielded away from the rest of the building. There were other offices that lined the hall, some used for Hange's lab and creations, others empty and amounted to nothing more than storage for forgotten items.

The lab being so close to his own office was unnerving at times, especially when strange smells and sounds began to interrupt him and his paperwork. Sadly, there wasn't a realistic alternative for a location for their experiments. Having it in the basement floor lacked the proper ventilation, and in the open warehouse there were too many flammable materials around. If something went wrong, no one in the building was safe. At least if it was down the hall from Erwin, he'd be closest to the blast zone and, with a little luck, his death would be quick.

Small, positive thoughts.

Opening the door, he flicked the light on and was greeted by a lone ebony desk with two leather chairs in front that rarely ever were used. Two bookshelves were pressed against the wall, packed to the brim of various texts and an entertainment stand with an electric fireplace was pressed to the right side of the wall. An indulgence seeing as any real fire was out of the question for lack of a stove, as well as to prevent drawing attention to the old warehouse.

Dropping his bag unceremoniously on the ground, Erwin sank into his seat and flipped open his laptop that waited patiently for him. He knew he should be taking the time to regain his equilibrium before meeting with the team, nonetheless he opted to look for a distraction instead.

Neither was an ideal treatment for the chronic fixation he was subject to. Having the tendency to fixate on Paradis had pushed his self-control into obsession in the past, leaving behind a messy trail to work overtime on cleaning up. The risk of falling back into those desperate habits was one he couldn't afford to do, leading to putting not only himself but the Scouts on the radar of unwanted attention.

Erwin Smith had spent the better part of the last 16 years trying to build a reputation, making those academic elitists who had worked alongside his father realize his worth through status, military fortitude, and politics. Now, when they cross his path, their hunger makes them eager to assist him in research, if only to feed their false hopes of eventually rubbing elbows with political affiliates through Erwin.

It never leads to that.

In fact, he simply uses them, and they have yet to realize the lack of reciprocation on his end.

Just as he uses contacts inside the police department and the government, though those contacts are compensated with pay. Some would say he uses his friends in the Scouts, putting them in dangerous positions with assignments to further relations or funding. He would argue it is part of the job description and they know what they are getting into. It is a cold and blunt outlook, but he counters that he does what he can to ensure they are best prepared to handle the job and come back safely.

It would be a shame if one of them did not come back one day. Truly.

But back to fixation, he had mild out over the years as he climbed the ranks of the military and became established with his contract company.

The Scouts were small. Elite in nature. Hired for various positions across Europe.

It kept his mind occupied and on the big picture, but with the historic town's discovery, the unknown government excavating it, and word getting out, he felt his mind shrinking in on itself and getting tunnel vision. Like an itch, he couldn't ignore it any longer and stole his focus entirely as if another being was housed inside his own flesh.

Others were going to be making major plays for the scraps of Paradis evidence in the world and it would turn into a full-on race. While Erwin had the advantage of his father's research, he still lacked the number of resources other groups would have at their disposal. Not to mention the unknown threat that likely silenced his father.

The realization only caused his foot to start bouncing as he fidgeted on the laptop.

It wasn't to say he was outmaneuvered, necessarily. Resources were such a materialistic concept. Anyone with money could find something to throw it at. He would know, being rather well off with family inheritance and his own success. Yet, what it really came down to was the amount of knowledge one had. Erwin could, and would, make sure he'd stay prosperous in that department and use his strategic mind to his advantage. In order to do that, he must first learn who the other opponents were and what their strengths entailed. Finding weakness would come from prodding their defenses and learning more about them.

Something he fully intended to exploit.

After numbly browsing and catching up on emails, he glanced at his watch before realizing he was running behind to meet with the others. Grabbing the small paper bag he got from the airport, he took a deep breath, settled into the familiar composure, like an old worn jacket, and made his way toward the downstairs room attached to the kitchen.

Voices carried down the hall from the room, getting clearer the closer he got. One of the loudest was easily, and unsurprisingly, recognized as Hange whose boisterous laugh was contagious to anyone. Well, perhaps contagious the people that were close to them. And not the topic of their jokes. Aright, so a select few then.

Erwin couldn't say he had the pleasure of being a target to their humor outside of a few one-liners. Likewise, he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"You're sure you didn't see a Bactrian camel? Two humps on it's back?" Hange probed as Erwin entered the room.

The sight before him had Nanaba sitting on the opposite side of the table and across from the door. She smiled kindly at him before her attention returned to their mad scientist. Floch hadn't noticed his arrival as his back was facing him and his fingers fluttered across the screen of his phone. Moblit sat beside him, watching his partner who leaned over the table at Mike with one hand holding them up, the other splayed out to represent "2" in front of Mike's face. He looked confused, likely not sure why he was being interrogated over a camel of all things.

"Nope. Only a bunch of horses, Hange."

"Boo, that's such a disappointment. Did you know they are native to Mongolia and can drink salt water?!"

"No. Is that why they're endangered?"

"Actually, it's probably why they are still around. Mongolia's climate is very unstable."

"You don't have to tell me. I was there for three days."

"Hange," Moblit interjected. "Why are you so fascinated with the camel?"

"Because, my gorgeous, clever partner-in-crime," Hange pushed off the table to look at Moblit, but stopped as their attention landed on Erwin. "Ah! Erwin! Welcome back! Ooops! Sorry, I'm blocking your seat."

"Evening everyone," he greeted cordially. Taking his seat, Hange skipped into an empty chair between Moblit and Floch, the latter who promptly put his phone away to pay attention.

A few replies of hellos, and "hi boss" returned as he set the paper bag on the tabletop. Hange's smile grew wider at the prospect of what was inside. Erwin wasn't sure why. It was the same thing as every other time they traveled to a new country.

"Ooh souvenir time!"

Erwin didn't waste time distributing the items amongst the group, eager to get it out of the way in favor of business. But he wasn't an unreasonable man. He knew morale was key to keeping everyone happy and his impatience was his own to deal with. It was irrational to skip on gifts just to debrief about his growing concerns.

Moblit gratefully accepted a tiny yurt figure, painted in white, reds and blues. Nanaba a country-shaped magnet with symbols of gold over top a blue background, Floch a country coin to add to his military coins collection, and Hange—

"My keychain! Look, Mob—it has a horse on it!"

"You act surprised every time, but you always ask for a keychain," Mike commented, his confusion never letting up since Erwin walked in.

"It's polite to act surprised, Mikey-boy. Besides, Erwin could always trick me one day and give me a magnet instead."

"What's wrong with a magnet?" Nanaba asked with raised brows.

"Nothing at all, baby-doll. I just like my keychains. What should I name it?"

"… You're going to name a keychain?" Floch questioned from his quiet seat, a full skeptical side-eye aimed at Hange.

"Sure, it has a horse on it."

"So?"

"So, it deserves a name!"

"I'm still not following… It's a keychain, not a pet."

"Just let them have it," Moblit subsided, trying to moderate Hange's energy before it got too sporadic.

Taking advantage of the pause in conversation, Erwin put the empty bag to the side and folded his hands over the table. The small gesture was enough to command the room's attention, and everyone fell quiet.

Mike must have warned them of my mood, he mused without an inkling of remorse.

Since leaving the military at an accomplished rank of Commander, Erwin had been selective of members he deemed worthy to have joined under the Scouts. Mike was there with him from the beginning, leaving the military with him as an enlisted Sergeant. They had known each other since Uni, just a year before his father was murdered. Having formed a strong relationship, Mike followed Erwin into the military shortly after.

Fast forward to forming the Scouts, Hange had been the second to join the ranks after only meeting Erwin one time. He had been looking for an engineer or mechanic, but his theory was to treat his team like a collection. Only wanting the best. Mike argued that it wasn't the best he wanted, but the most eccentric if the rest of the team were going to be like Hange. Fortunately for Mike's sanity, that wasn't the case.

Needing more members for field work, Erwin had selected two others to join their group. Gunther and Flagon. The two of them worked well with the group and Erwin felt pride in seeing his vision come to life. The success of missions began to spread to other parts of the government, then to alliance nations looking to hire the Scouts for protection duties. Things were looking up as Erwin's political circle grew. That is, until one mission in Italy.

It was a tough call, one that Erwin had to separate his emotions from in order to verbalize the order. Heartless, perhaps, but the assignment was to protect the client, which he made sure to do.

Flagon and Gunther did not make it out of Italy.

The loss was a hard hit. Despite successfully keeping the client safe, the request for jobs took a blow. You can't operate an assignment with just two people in the field and expect it to spur reassurance to the client after losing half your team.

So, Erwin began his employment search once more, scouring for those with keen skills that would be useful for the Scouts. Hange, not usually one for field missions, filled in where they could. In time, they earned enough sway in the debate with the two men to request, and gain, an assistant.

While Moblit lacked military training, he was quick to learn his way around a gun and acted as a counterbalance to Hange's energy. He was a well-rounded member, never specializing in one subject but could fill the role where needed seamlessly.

Nanaba's introduction to the Scouts was unexpected and on a whim. Mike swears it was fate. Erwin is convinced it was just dumb luck—if one would call getting accidentally shot by thugs walking out of a restaurant luck. The stray bullet had lodged itself into Mike's collarbone and at the prospect of Hange being the one to dig it out, Mike promptly, and colorfully, refused. Seeing as they weren't on a job and under the guise as simple citizens, they allowed the ambulance to take care of him when they arrived. Nanaba had been the EMT on scene to treat him.

Since then, Mike was smitten and repeatedly asked Erwin if they could keep her.

"She's so beautiful and sweet—Please, Erwin." The drugs were not kind to Mike's self-preservation.

Nanaba had taken it in stride and brushed off Erwin's embarrassed apologies with a laugh. At least until Mike's mouth became too loose and he began to spout off things like, "you always get to choose who you want", "We pay well, Nananaba", and "We could use a real doctor instead of a mad scientist—just look how good she gets bullets out. Didn't feel a thing!".

In which case, Erwin had to do damage control in the back of the ambulance as they sped through London. "He's referring to hiring employees." "He doesn't mean what you think he does.", and "We don't have a mad scientist."

The last one was a debatable lie, depending on perspective.

The next day, as Mike lay in the hospital, drugs and bullet out of his system, while conveniently unaware of his humiliating pleas, Nanaba had stopped by with a bouquet of daisies.

Both men had blinked in surprise, not having much to say as they stared at the unexpected appearance of the EMT.

"Do you always bring flowers to your patients?" Mike recovered smoothly, taking the daisies and sniffing the lovely aroma.

"Only to those who practically propose to me after I've had my fingers in them."

Color drained from Mikes face as he gawked. "…. What? Erwin—did I really-?"

After laughing and replaying the events for his friend, Erwin decided to indulge a little on the request. Seeing as Nanaba sought them out, it was a rational opportunity to humor. Come to find out, Nanaba was looking for a change in pace and after discussing pay, she was welcomed to the Scouts with open arms.

Floch was the newest addition, having crossed paths with the group on an assignment in Germany and warning Erwin they were being tailed. The Commander had been aware of the group following behind them on the street but found it interesting that this strange, young man had noticed and thought to bring it to their attention. Inviting him along and learning more about him had the assignment classed as successful in escorting a famous singer to their destination as well as gaining a new member to the team.

The Scouts found a strange home amongst each other. Personalities, fortunately, didn't clash and everyone had an important role to play. What was an unspoken rule amongst them, however, was that Erwin had two sides to him. The companion and the Commander. One did well to distinguish between the two because when the Commander was in play, any personal attachments were pushed to the backburners.

"How was the assignment in Egypt?" Erwin started as his attention shifted between Nanaba and Floch.

"Successful. To be honest, I think the Chairman was being paranoid. We had no evidence that anyone was out to get him," Floch reported diligently.

Nanaba nodded her agreement. "We suspected it was an empty threat he received to put him on edge."

"Talk about easy money then," Hange added.

Erwin was pleased to hear it. Really, he was. Yet, he couldn't help the feeling of going through the motions, not truly invested in what they had to say. He could feel it in the way he struggled to find more questions for them. Usually, he was eager to learn about all the details, any red flags, if the client had mentioned anything of value about other affiliates that could be used as blackmail, etcetera. Instead, his mind was full of frayed edges with restlessness that came with needing plan his next move for Paradis.

"Did you give the receipts to Moblit?" he managed to ask, playing the diligent leader.

"Yes," Moblit answered for them. "I've already filed it away and put it in the books."

"Good. I'm glad it was a clean job, even if you two may have been bored."

"I'd rather it be boring than a shit show," Nanaba waved off. "At least, I got a little bit of a tan out of it."

"And all I got was a pulled muscle," Mike mumbled.

Erwin collected his thoughts, recognizing the end of the brief with his team. Now, it was on to important matters.

"I'm sure Mike filled you in on our assignment?" Assignment was not the correct term for what it was. There was no employer expecting results or deadline for it. To call it the singular purpose of the Scouts was a more accurate description.

Confirmation from the group was quiet as they nodded their heads. Extracting a pack from his jacket pocket, he plucked a cigarette from the case and lit it. Inhaling, the flare of ash burned bright before he pulled it away from his lips and blew the smoke away from the group. No one really cared that he smoked, seeing as most of them partook in it at times, as evident with the crystal ashtray on the table.

"There are unknown groups making moves like us on anything related to Paradis. We're going to be shifting our focus from here on out to finding who they are."

"Are we still taking on other assignments?" Moblit asked, a little timidly than usual, "I got a call about a reconnaissance job by Pixis this morning."

"Pixis sure has been generous with tasks lately. What? Are his people in MI6 not pulling their weight?" Floch questioned as he folded his arms over his chest.

"Pixis is using us to his benefit. Just as I am doing to him," Erwin responded flatly then turned to Moblit. "Get the details on that and let me know. We'll still be taking some jobs on the side—we need to maintain funding and our image, after all. In the meantime, when we aren't working on that, Paradis will be the primary focus."

"Where would you like us to start?" Floch inquired.

"Mike, work on getting those pictures printed and send them to everyone here. Perhaps someone here can find something we missed. If not, we need to see who may have been listening to the same radio channels as us. The Mongolian government is one we can rule out as their presence was merely confirming access to the country. Reach out to contacts and let them know to keep an ear open for any work on Paradis and take note of names that come up."

"Understood."

Two stressful days later, Hange pulled their hands behind their back, a feeble attempt to hide their fiddling while Mike remained unmoved by the dark glare that warped Erwin's regal features. The man sat behind the desk with a hand mindless flipping an old skeleton key between his fingers as he mulled over the information presented pertaining to the unknown group in Mongolia.

British government, they reported.

Of all the organizations that would blindside the Scouts, the country they had pledged allegiance to was not expected.

But perhaps that was Erwin's fault.

Being too trusting was a rare occurrence, and he was by no means guileless to think the government would not play in the shadows with the rest of the world. However, that was the reason for having inside contacts; people to feed information and keep an eye on things behind closed doors and hushed whispers.

"Nile didn't say anything?" Mike questioned, braving the room enough to add a personal query, "Did you two get into another spat?"

While Erwin was close to Mike, the man was also his boss and a ruthless leader. Picking the time and place for humor was like walking through a minefield in the snow. Something Mike was brave—or dumb—enough to attempt for lack of preservation instinct. On rare cases, his attempts didn't completely backfire in his face and proved worthwhile.

"You know how Nile is a sensitive creature. It doesn't take much to upset him," Erwin retorted offhandedly, a touch too unemotional for comfort.

Mike decided to take a risk. "What was it about this time? Did you forget to send him a happy anniversary gift again?"

Not an unreasonable assumption, if Erwin did say so himself. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened. Despite Erwin's ex-fiancé marrying Nile mere months after breaking it off, Nile still expected Erwin to be supportive and remember the date as if it was his own. A little conceited and selfish, but Nile was far from a saint.

"It isn't until February, so not likely. But his silence is worth reaching out and following up on."

Can't have Nile shirking duties as his government contact and keep the pay he's receiving for the lack of intel. The fact that he withheld information pertaining to Paradis of all things was an egregious error on his end, which begged the question of why Nile was hiding it.

"We have other news," Hange added, tone unusually serious. Clearly, they understood the implications of delivering not one, but two unfortunate pieces of information to Erwin pertaining Paradis was equivalent to twisting the knife, so to speak. "With the announcement on the BBC news about finding that ancient town—or what was left of it—, it seems that some… objects of interest are coming to surface. I've ruled out fakes, of course, but there is one in particular that seems authentic."

Stepping forward, they produced a printed photo and handed it to Erwin. Sharp eyes gazed at the photo of a stone object in the shape of a shield, perched behind a thick plane of glass. There was a glare that covered the majority of the details in the picture, but what was visible latched its teeth onto Erwin's focus.

"Where is this?" he demanded, attention pinning Hange to the spot.

"It's currently under a Lord Tybur's possession. An old and elite family who are putting the item up for auction in two weeks' time."

Erwin tugged his attention back to the photo, thick brows pinching together. He'd not heard of that particular object existing, yet it was unmistakably connected to Paradis lore.

"How have I not heard of this before now?"

Hange shrugged. "I'm guessing it's been in the family for a while. I haven't found anything online about recent or old discoveries of it."

The image was blurry and faint beneath the glare but the inner beveling of the shield-shaped stone had what looked like four different emblems. One was a pair of roses, another a pair of wings. The same set of wings that happened to be sketched three different times in his father's journal. The same wings Erwin was inspired to put on their uniforms to signify the Scouts.

He had to have it. There was no other option for him.

"Where will the auction be?"

That fixation was surging up like an internal wave, sucking in more of his control and swelling with want.

"It will be at the Sky Garden in London. The lists are limited to exclusive members and invites… it will take some IT maneuvering to fake an alias for the event."

It sounded like a simple reminder, but Erwin was aware of what Hange was hinting at. While they were the Scout's Engineer and support, they lacked the technical knowledge to finesse forgeries. At least, in a timely manner. With Moblit's, equally green experience, the two could usually pull something together. Unfortunately, that meant they would need to start working on it now if they wanted to ensure everything was flawless by the time of the auction.

"Good. This is good," Erwin nodded, setting the paper on his desk and folding his hands, with the key, over the top. An unconscious possessive gesture as if a gust of wind could blow it away at any moment. "Go ahead and set up Nanaba and Mike's alias for the event."

"Wait. You're not going to attend?"

"I'm recognized in those same circles. If I attend and the piece goes missing, I'll be one of the first suspects."

Mike let out a breath of air, exasperated at the new task. "I'm far from fitting in with that proper crowd, Erwin. You sure you want me to go?"

"Nanaba will keep you in line. Besides, you'll manage if you can stay professional."

"I'm pretty certain there wasn't a compliment in anything you just said."

"Perhaps not. But it was facts." The distant look in Erwin's eyes returned before he refocused on the two. "Work on the identifications and get me schematics of the Sky Garden. If we do it right, you may not need to associate with the attendees too long."

"Right," Hange nodded, shoulders easing as a grin crept back across their face. "Well, sorry, Mikey-boy but I'll need you to clean up a bit for a proper picture. Need to make some fake identification!"

"I'm pretty sure you have nearly ten photos of each of us for our aliases at this point," he countered, unamused as they turned away from him to leave the office.

"True, but they are all of your usual unkept self. Maybe shave or comb your hair back or something. Think of it as practice for your assignment to attend the gala!"

"I'm not shaving, Hange."

"Oh, boo. Maybe I'll tell Nanaba that Erwin ordered it and see what she says—"

"You'll do no such thing!"

The door shut behind the pair, leaving Erwin to stew in the silence that filled the office. Without any further distractions, he returned to the photograph of the shield, taking in the foreign language carved on the inlay, too small to decipher from the picture.

A distant memory pushed its way to the forefront of his thoughts, a poem his father would recite on stormy nights in his office with the hearth ablaze.

The thicket of roses fortifies the souls inside

with the thorns barbed and blades only sharper.

Uninviting to those too large to breach the wall

but protective to the small who seek shelter.

Erwin's pessimistic prediction was coming true. Soon it would be a violent free for all to find what there could of Paradis.

A/N's Firstly, thank you for checking out my story! I had an itch to write an AOT fic with Eruri for some time now and decided that this one was a story that I needed to type out. I'm hoping I can do it justice with my writing, though I'm still hesitant on certain dynamics in it. Either way, I will do my best and appreciate any support. A warning: it will be a long fic, likely close to 30 chapters.

Secondly, I am taking some creative liberties with the original story as I try to weave it together with our modern world. Obviously, countries, locations, time, and objects will vary between reality and AOT, but I promise I have done a lot of research and consideration to make the artifact-hunting part fit together as seamlessly as possible. I will be adding notes as to why the characters are at certain places in the world as the story continues.

Finally, it will be following Levi's POV for majority of the story, so don't let the summary and first chapter fool you. Also, there will be uncomfortable situations throughout, so mind the tags and TWs.