(to a young child)
Márgarét, áre you gríeving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leáves like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! ás the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep and know why….
It ís the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
Gerard Manley Hopkins, Spring and Fall
On Thursday morning, a small miracle happened in the form of a cluster of dark storm clouds that had appeared overnight in the southern sky.
As the entire collected forces of the Survey Corps gathered together on the headquarter grounds, mounting their horses and preparing to leave, Erwin announced that because of the looming storm in the south, they would ride northeast, where the sky was clear, and conduct their expedition out of Karanes instead. He scanned the faces in the crowd for any hint of a reaction—but saw nothing. After all, it made little difference to the Scouts whether they rode out of Trost or Karanes.
When they arrived in Karanes district on Thursday evening, the forces made their way to the old barracks that the Survey Corps always occupied in this district. Erwin stood in the street just outside one of the buildings, issuing directions and answering questions when approached, but mostly just watching his soldiers in silence. A profound uneasiness had taken up residence in his chest, and nothing he could do would suppress it.
Seemingly out of nowhere, Levi appeared beside him.
"They know," he said quietly. "I scouted a room out for you. It's attached to a suite, so Petra and Eld will be in the adjoining room. Gunther and Oruo will be hidden in the hall."
"Thank you," Erwin said.
For the first time in weeks, he felt like he might throw up.
That evening, for once in his life, Erwin didn't have any work to do. No, that wasn't quite true. But whatever work he could do—mindless paperwork, reports, training plans—felt meaningless in the face of what was about to happen. Without even trying, he knew he would not be able to concentrate.
He went to his room early with every intention of going to bed—but around midnight, he was still sitting on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, wide awake.
What are the odds that he lives?
Scouts never traveled alone in Titan territory. No matter how skilled you were, no matter how fast you were, you couldn't be in two places at once. You couldn't see every Titan hand when the hands were reaching in from all sides. Even if you could, you would run out of fuel eventually.
Erwin calculated the numbers again. He couldn't help it.
There were three possible scenarios.
In the first scenario, the forest where they left Levi was largely Titan-free. Levi would be able to camp out in a tree. The spies would act within three or four hours, and Erwin would be able to send for Levi by Friday night. In this scenario, Levi's odds for survival were quite good—as high as 85%, even 90%.
In the second scenario, the spies took longer than anticipated. They did not attack Erwin until many hours—maybe even a day or two—later. The odds of survival in this scenario were much worse. Even if the forest only contained a few scattered, wandering Titans, Levi could only fight so many before running out of fuel. He would be battling the clock more than the Titans. The chances might be something like 60%. But maybe that was wishful thinking. 50% might be more realistic.
In the third scenario, the forest was crawling with Titans. That would make it incredibly difficult to conserve fuel, to limit the use of ODM gear. Even if the spies took mere hours to attack once Erwin returned to Karanes, it would be impossibly dangerous to fight a glut of Titans alone. For any ordinary human, the odds of survival in this scenario would hover somewhere around 5%.
For Levi…they were maybe 25%. Maybe. If he was lucky.
The door opened with a creak, interrupting Erwin's thoughts. Levi stood in the doorway.
"Levi." Erwin stood up, surprised.
"Hey." Levi hesitated just outside the door.
"Come in," Erwin said. "I thought you were actually going to sleep tonight."
"Yeah." Slowly, Levi took one step inside the room but didn't close the door. "I wanted to. But I…"
He stopped. He was staring down at the floor, one hand picking absentmindedly at a loose thread in the hem of his shirt.
"It's fine," he said finally. "I'll see you tomorrow. Good night."
He turned to leave.
"Wait," Erwin said.
Without turning around, his hand still resting on the doorknob, Levi looked back over his shoulder.
I'm sorry.
I shouldn't be asking this of you.
If I could trade places with you, I would do it in a heartbeat.
"It's okay," Erwin blurted.
"What?"
"If you're…nervous, I mean. It's okay."
Levi let his hand slip from the doorknob and turned back around.
"Will you stay awake with me?"
The words came quickly, as if they had escaped his mouth of their own accord.
"Yes," Erwin said. "Yes, of course I will."
Levi closed the door and sat on the floor. Erwin almost pointed out that Levi could have chosen to sit anywhere else—the chair, the bed, even the windowsill—but instead, he joined Levi on the ground, just as he had on the day they first met.
"Someone needs to mop this floor," Levi said.
"True."
"There are cobwebs on the ceiling."
"We haven't been in these barracks for a while," Erwin said. "I guess no one has cleaned them since the last time we were here."
They fell into silence.
Remind me why we have to do this again, Erwin wanted to say, but of course he already knew. If he lost his command, the Survey Corps would fall into ruin. If the Survey Corps fell into ruin, humanity would almost certainly lose the war against the Titans. This prediction wasn't the product of narcissism. It wasn't delusion. It was an objective fact.
Maybe someday, Erwin would be replaceable.
But not yet. Not today.
"I keep thinking that it's just like that one training exercise," Levi said suddenly.
"Which one?"
"The one we did after Isabel and Furlan…you know. The first exercise you ran as head of training."
Erwin thought back. He remembered blindfolding the squads, ordering them to be led into the forest. He remembered leaving Levi's squad in a clearing at the very center.
"You left your whole squad behind, and you wouldn't tell me why."
"Yeah." Levi shook his head, staring down at the floor. "I didn't want to be responsible for anybody ever again. I didn't want to make the wrong choices and see them die and know that it was my fault. I just wanted to fight alone, to kill Titans by myself, so that I couldn't hurt anyone else."
Levi looked up at Erwin with the tiniest hint of a smile.
"I hated you for not letting me do that."
Erwin laughed, even though something inside his chest was aching.
"It's funny, though," Levi continued, his voice sounding just a little bit farther away. "This time, I'm the one who's getting left behind. I don't know, maybe that makes me and Dover and Julia—and Quinn, and Ari, and the rest of them—maybe that makes us even now."
"Don't,"Erwin said. That was all he said, but he knew Levi understood anyway. Don't talk like you deserve this.
"Whatever," Levi muttered. He had gone back to picking at the hem of his shirt. "Doesn't matter."
"Do you remember the objective of that training exercise?" Despite himself, Erwin felt a smile spread across his face. "Probably not. You never listened to mission objectives back then."
"Asshole," Levi said, but his expression lightened a little. "We were supposed to get out of the forest."
"That's what's going to happen tomorrow," Erwin said. "You're going to kill all the Titans, and I'm going to catch all the spies, and then we're going to get you out of the forest."
He said it with confidence, as if he could make it true merely by saying it, as if he could speak the rest of Levi's life into being with nothing but pure, unrationed hope.
The Scout regiment set out early the next morning. They followed all the rules. Every single Scout rode out from the gate of Karanes. They didn't bring any carts.
As the long-range formation headed east, Erwin channeled all his attention into watching the horizon for flares, picturing the map of Titans in his head, redirecting to avoid major encounters, minimizing casualties.
Just like he always did. As if this were a normal expedition.
Forty miles out, the formation rode down into a forested valley. Erwin gave the order for each squad to split off and scout out the general region. Scouts disappeared into the trees, leaving Erwin with only the command squad and Levi's squad.
"You all," he said, turning to the command soldiers, "keep an eye on the perimeter. I'll regroup with you shortly."
There was a chorus of sir, and now it was just Erwin, Levi, and his squad.
Erwin held up his hand, and everyone slowed to a halt. He half-turned his horse so that he was facing Levi's squad.
"Take a minute," he said briskly. "But only a minute."
All five of them hesitated for a moment. Levi was the first to dismount, and the others followed his lead. They always did.
Erwin rode a few paces away. Even as he looked up into the waving leaves of the trees, trying to give the others some amount of privacy, he still managed to see what was happening in his peripheral vision.
"I'll see you all," Erwin heard Levi mutter. "Soon."
Oruo was the first to step forward and extend his hand. He shook Levi's hand—and after a moment, dragged his captain into a hug. Levi stiffened, but he did not pull away. Eld followed Oruo's example, and then Gunther.
Petra was last. Erwin could hear her sniffling. Levi wrapped his arms around her, whispering something into her hair that Erwin could not hear.
"It'll be okay," Levi said, this time to everyone, but no one knew what he meant. He swung himself back onto his horse, and so did his soldiers. Erwin took that as his cue to return.
"Circle around to the south," Erwin ordered. "We'll meet back up in a few minutes."
It was just Erwin and Levi now. They didn't have to go far to lose sight of the others, who had already scattered throughout the thick trees. Once Erwin was sure that no one would see, he pulled on the reins and slowed to a trot. Levi did the same. They rode into a small clearing.
"Okay," Erwin said, halting his horse. "I guess this is it."
In a single, graceful motion, Levi engaged the ODM gear, leapt out of his saddle, and grappled up into the branches of a nearby tree.
"Remember," Erwin said. "The trees won't protect you from a thirteen- or fourteen-meter."
"I know."
"Hopefully the spies will move quickly." Erwin shifted his weight uncomfortably, avoiding Levi's eyes. "Hopefully there won't be many Titans."
Somewhere nearby, a fizzing noise spurted through the forest. Over the tops of the trees, a column of red smoke began to rise.
"I can handle Titans."
There was another flare, and then another. Black smoke mingled together with the red.
Can you?
"Commander!" someone shouted from somewhere in the trees. "We have to go!"
Erwin glanced back over his shoulder. He was running out of time. He should be leaving now, but he hovered in the middle of the clearing instead, searching for something—anything—to say.
"Come back," he eventually managed.
Painfully aware of how sentimental that had sounded, he coughed into his hand.
"That's an order," he added.
Levi nodded, one hand gripping the branch above him, the other on his blade. He was already watching the surrounding trees for Titans.
Erwin grabbed the reins of Levi's horse, kicked his own horse into a trot, then a canter, and rode out of the clearing. He glanced back only once at Levi's small figure growing even smaller in the distance, already nearly hidden by the thick branches.
He fired a green flare toward the west as he sped up to a gallop. He could hear branches cracking and soldiers shouting on both sides of him. The forest floor shook, and not from the pounding of his horse's hooves.
"Retreat!" he shouted. "Ride west!"
Scouts began appearing out of the trees on either side, all flying west toward the edge of the forest. Some zipped in on ODM lines, some rode in on horseback. Bradley rode up alongside Erwin.
"What's happening?" Erwin asked.
"Titans," Bradley said grimly. "Lots of them. We did our best to avoid like you ordered, but—"
He broke off suddenly.
"Wasn't Captain Levi with you?"
Titans. Lots of them.
All his hoping had not been enough. They hadn't been lucky after all.
Erwin allowed the raging turmoil in his chest to appear on his face as he replied, "I lost him."
"You…what?" Bradley's eyes fell on the horse whose reins Erwin was holding. "You mean…"
"He's dead," Erwin snapped.
"Levi?" Bradley's jaw dropped. "That's not possible. How—"
"Set it aside," Erwin said, forcing his expression to return to one of determined composure—and making sure that Bradley watched it happen. "We need to return to Karanes without any more casualties. That's the priority. Spread the word—as soon as we break through the tree line, we regroup into the formation."
"Yes…yes, sir," Bradley said, still clearly shaken. He fell away, shouting, "Rear guard! Fall back!"
As Erwin rode out of the forest at a breakneck pace, he could hear the Titans behind them, but he never saw one. He wished he would have. At least then there would be one less Titan for Levi to fight.
But the Titans were all back there. Back where he had left Levi.
When they broke past the tree line, Erwin looked back over his shoulder, hoping that at least some of the Titans were following them. He spotted a few, but they would lose interest as soon as the Scouts were far enough away—and at the pace they were going, that wouldn't be long.
Then they would return to the forest.
The inside of Erwin's head pounded as if someone were swinging a hammer on the inside of his skull. He shut out the steady drumbeat of galloping horses, the shouts of soldiers, the rush of the wind. He closed his eyes, trusting his horse to know where to go. He dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands until he felt warm blood trickle down his wrists.
That little spark of pain was the only thing holding him together.
Erwin had never been able to remember exactly what happened outside Shiganshina just before Wall Maria fell, and he never would. The memories from Shadis's last mission all blended together in a haze of pictures: blood, rain, limbs, mud.
But for the rest of his life, he would always remember, in perfect detail, the day he abandoned Levi in a Titan-infested forest. He remembered the way the too-bright sun washed out the open plain as the long-range formation thundered back toward Karanes. He could recount exactly how many flares had appeared on the southwestern horizon, then the northwestern, and how many minutes passed between them. If he had been an artist, he could have painted the precise shape of the trees in the forest, the exact slope of the valleys, the greyish blue of the creeks that trickled down the low mountains.
But whenever he recalled all of these things—awake or in dreams—he remembered them as events that had happened to someone else, as lines in a history textbook that he had memorized, and not as moments that he himself had lived through.
Just hours ago, he had been a man. Now he was only the commander of the Survey Corps. He watched for flares and redirected accordingly. When the left wing spotters encountered a nasty clump of Titans, he sent the Levi squad to reinforce them. He guided his soldiers back through the gates. No deaths (unless…but Erwin would not permit himself to think…) and five injuries.
A successful expedition.
He issued orders hurriedly, but thoroughly. He collected quick reports from the squad leaders. He spoke briefly with the stable hands. He allowed himself to melt into his mask until it was no longer a mask. Whatever else you could say for the man in the crowd, he was protected. He felt nothing. No guilt, no fear, no aching pressure in his chest.
The plan would work. Or it would not work. Erwin had done exactly what he needed to do. The outcome was out of his hands.
The news of Levi's death spread like a cancer. Within minutes, Hange had come pushing through the crowd to where Erwin was talking to Nanaba. Hange took hold of Erwin's arm. He looked down at her quizzically.
"Erwin," she said breathlessly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
He tried to pull his arm away. "Just a minute, please. I need to finish getting this report."
Hange's forehead creased in concern. No—no, maybe it was pity.
"Erwin," she said in a low voice, "I can do this. You can go."
"Why should—"
Hange yanked at him, hard, pulling him out of earshot of Nanaba and the rest of the Scouts.
"I heard," she whispered. "About Levi."
He nodded slowly. "It's unfortunate. He was our best asset in the field. Humanity's strongest."
He was the man in the crowd. He was the falcon. He felt nothing, and he was glad for it.
"In the field?" Hange's jaw dropped.
"Of course," Erwin said simply. "It is a grave loss. We will feel it deeply."
"A grave loss? We?" Hange took a step back and stared at Erwin as if he were a stranger. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Hange, I don't understand."
"You idiot," she exploded. "After everything he…"
"I think you misunderstand me," Erwin began once it had become abundantly clear that Hange was too angry to finish her sentence. "He was a good comrade. I'll miss him."
"He wasn't…" Hange bit her lip. Perhaps subconsciously, she balled both her fists. "I don't know why you're being like this."
"I don't know what you want from me," Erwin said.
He was the falcon. He did not have a lump in his throat. His heart was not broken. He would not spend every day of the rest of his wretched life falling to his knees on an empty grave and begging a dead man to forgive him.
"Fine," Hange said. "Fine. But you were everything to him."
"Hange…"
"He would have ripped his own heart out if you needed one."
"Hange."
"He loved you."
"Hange!"
She whirled around and stalked away, leaving Erwin to hollow himself out, to hold his heart together, to remind himself that he contained nothing, that he was empty.
After Erwin had finished hastily debriefing the rest of the squad leaders, he slipped inside the barracks. He had not seen the Levi squad since they had entered the gates. Good. They must be in position already.
He climbed the stairs, walked down the hall, and entered his room. He picked a knife up off the dresser and tucked it away, out of sight. He glanced up at the clock. It was just after three o'clock. He took off his ODM gear and set it on the floor. He removed his harness.
He sat down, and then stood up. He walked across the room and stared out the window. The sun was too bright. He strode back across the room again, but along the way, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He decided to pace in the opposite corner of the room, from one side to the other, where he would not catch sight of himself, even on accident.
Ten minutes had passed.
Somewhere out there, forty miles away, Levi was fighting a Titan right now. Unless, of course—
Five more minutes passed. Erwin tried to sit down again, but he couldn't keep his legs still. He resumed his pacing.
"You did this?"
"Is this not what you ordered me to do?"
"It is. It's just…You did a good job."
Twenty minutes total had gone by. Someone was coming to kill him. They'd better come soon.
"It's really fine, you don't—"
"Shut up, Erwin."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard what I said. Shut up and let me sit in that damn chair by this damn window and make sure you don't get fucking murdered."
With every minute that passed, the odds went down. What were they now? Erwin tried to do the math, but there were too many variables. 23%...21%...
"The little bastard would already die for you. All you have to do is let him."
Almost exactly twenty-nine minutes had passed. Then, in the infinite space between 3:31 and fifty-eight seconds and 3:31 and fifty-nine seconds, something changed.
Or maybe nothing changed. In fact, nothing at all actually happened. He gained no new information; he experienced no grand epiphany. One moment, he was fully committed to the plan, and the next, he knew with absolute certainty that he could not wait in this room for one more second.
Something inside Erwin's chest shattered. He couldn't breathe.
He had left Levi to die.
And just like that, he was human again. Just like that, he pulled up out of the dive. The entire tangled mass of everything he had ever done or said came crashing back down on his back, and staggering under the sheer weight of it, he stumbled back across the room and started wrestling his harness back on.
He could stand here and make hubristic predictions about what would happen if he lost his command. He could assess the probability. He could run the calculations.
He shrugged the last straps of the harness over his shoulders—fumbled for his ODM gear—
"Petra!" he yelled.
If he lost his command, maybe the walls really would come crashing down. Maybe it really would send humanity spiraling down into hell.
He crossed the room and banged on the suite door. "Eld!"
But he didn't know. He didn't know the future. He didn't know the fate of humanity. Right now, he knew only one thing in the world. The walls be damned and everything in them, but he would not abandon Levi to die.
The door flew open behind him. He had already made it halfway out into the hallway. "Gunther! Oruo!" he shouted. "We're going back out!"
He was not a prophet. He was not a god.
He was just a man, and at least this once, he would not be the falcon.
"Sir?" Down the hall, Gunther appeared. Petra and Eld had followed Erwin out into the corridor. The door on the other side of the hall opened and Oruo jumped out, blades gripped in both his hands.
"What happened?" he asked.
"You don't need those yet," Erwin said. "We're going back for Levi."
Petra's eyes widened.
"Commander," Eld said, "the plan—"
"Damn the plan," Erwin growled. "Meet me at the gates in fifteen minutes."
"With all due respect, I don't think we should—"
"Come with me, then," Erwin said impatiently, already beginning to stride down the hall. Flanked by the Levi squad, he rounded the corner and nearly collided with Bradley.
"Sir!" Bradley's eyes flitted over the four soldiers behind Erwin. "I heard shouting. Is everything—"
"We're going back out," Erwin said. "To get Levi."
Section Commander Bradley Zion had never looked so confused in his life.
"Commander, you said he was…"
"I lied." Erwin pushed past Bradley. "Let's go."
Within two minutes, he was throwing open barrack doors, pointing at random soldiers, calling out their names, telling them to meet at the gates immediately. Everywhere he went, baffled faces stared back at him. No matter. They would understand soon enough.
As he strode through the barracks, Erwin counted the soldiers he had pulled. Twenty-three, twenty-four…twenty-five. That was enough. Still tailed closely by the Levi squad, Erwin sprinted out to the stables. He grabbed a bridle off the wall and tore down the center until he reached the stall where his horse stood, peacefully chewing on a bit of hay.
"Commander," came a stable hand's voice from one end. "What are you—"
"Thirty horses," Erwin shouted, throwing open the stall door and slipping a bridle onto his horse. "Five minutes. Bring them to the gate."
"But sir—"
Erwin was already gone. He galloped down the cobblestone streets, pulling up at the gates and waiting for the rest of the Scouts to arrive. He fiddled anxiously with the reins. His horse mirrored his restlessness, stamping impatiently at the ground.
It felt like an hour before the rest of the soldiers arrived, but it couldn't have been more than ten minutes. Erwin counted one last time to make sure he had everyone, then raised his voice to address them.
"Captain Levi is not dead." Quickly, he raised a hand to cut off the immediate outburst. "You have questions, I know. I will explain later. We have about four hours of daylight left to ride eighty miles round trip, so we need to leave right now. All of you—" Erwin pointed at roughly half the Scouts. "You will comprise a left wing of spotters. Squad Leader Arankowski, you lead the left wing. Section Commander Bradley, you're in charge of the right wing—that's the rest of you. Levi squad, you ride with me in command."
Erwin motioned for the Garrison to raise the gate. He kept shouting over the noise of the gears beginning to grind.
"This is just a smaller long-range formation. You see a Titan, you fire a flare. We redirect accordingly. We ride fast—faster than you've ever ridden. You understand?"
"Sir!"
"Then go!"
Erwin kicked his horse. Followed by the rest, he went flying out through the gates and into the street of the old, abandoned city that stretched out beyond the wall.
"Watch for Titans!" Erwin yelled back over his shoulder. Both sides appeared clear for the moment. That was lucky, since they hadn't had time to check ahead of time or lure any Titans away from the gates.
As the terrain began to slope downward and the buildings on either side began to fall away, Erwin lifted his arm.
"Deploy the formation!" he called.
Both wings went shooting out on his right and left, picking up speed as they pushed forward to their new positions. To the left, Arankowski was shouting orders and adjusting the makeshift ranks; to the right, Bradley was doing the same. Slowly, the wobbly wings straightened and spread out, riding ahead until the spotting squads were nothing more than specks in the distance.
The Levi squad fell into a semicircle just behind Erwin. It occurred to Erwin that right now, he was riding in Levi's position—that these four soldiers were looking to him for orders in the same way that they usually looked to their captain.
"Your assignment is the same as always," Erwin shouted over the pounding of hooves. "I'll send you to reinforce the spotting squads if something goes wrong. You're down a captain, so adjust accordingly. Be very careful. He'll kill me if anything happens to you."
"Sir!" came the chorus from behind him.
Erwin pictured the map. For the next fifteen miles or so, they would ride over several large hills interspersed with valleys. The terrain would stay relatively open with the exception of a few small groves scattered across the landscape. After passing through a low valley, they would reach their first forest. Once they had passed through, there would be approximately six more miles of open plain before they reached the forest where they had left Levi.
While they rode through the open terrain, Erwin could just barely see the right and left wings up ahead. Without obvious places for Titans to hide, the pared-down version of the formation would work well, at least until they reached their first forest. Once that happened, their range of visibility would drop considerably. They would have to be more careful.
One or two flares. Erwin altered course accordingly. Even without the full formation, they were making good time.
It felt like mere minutes before the first forest appeared over the hill in the distance. Erwin sped up.
"We have to watch carefully!" he yelled back over his shoulder at the Levi squad. "Visibility is going to be bad!"
As they galloped into the forest, Erwin's whole body tensed. He kept his eyes above the trees, scanning constantly for flares. For several minutes, he and the Levi squad charged through the trees in a serpentine pattern. Erwin listened for the crash of a Titan breaking through the trees. He searched for flashes of color in the distance.
Then it came—on the left wing, a red flare. It was quickly followed by a second.
Erwin narrowed his eyes, waiting for more information. Nothing on the right wing so far. He counted to thirty before another red flare shot up above the trees. Moments later, the red smoke was joined by black.
Still no flares to the right. At least the decision was easy this time.
"Redirecting!" Erwin called, pulling out a green flare. He sent a column of green arching over the trees, then turned back over his shoulder. "Eld!"
"Sir!" Eld rode up next to him.
"Take the squad—reinforce the left wing. Make sure they redirect as quickly as possible. Regroup with me once they're on their way. Go!"
"Yes, sir!" Eld shifted course, riding off into the trees to the left. The others followed him.
"Good luck, commander!" Petra called back to Erwin.
I'm not the one who needs it, Erwin thought as she disappeared into the forest. Clearly the left wing had encountered a nasty clump of Titans—and an Abnormal besides. Two or three more red flares were rising above the trees behind him as Erwin changed course toward the southeast. He shook his head. If anyone could patch up the northeastern ranks, it was the Levi squad. He rode alone, zipping past the trees, half his attention still fixed on the sky behind him.
One moment, the path ahead was clear. The next, a giant hand was barreling toward him.
On pure instinct, Erwin engaged his gear and leapt off his horse. He hooked into the nearest tree and went flying upward, but one meaty Titan finger managed to clip his shoulder. Off balance, he missed the tree. He crashed into a thick branch, the blow to his stomach knocking all the air out of him.
He couldn't breathe.
Why didn't the spotters warn us—?
Another Titan's face leered at him. Erwin scrambled up onto the branch, struggled to regain his footing, and flew up higher. As he zipped by, he took aim at the Titan's nape, but the giant twisted at the last second.
The blade didn't cut deep enough.
He landed in the branches—and the Titan turned on him right away. Erwin jumped, but the huge hand made contact before he could fire his lines. A sickening weightlessness flooded his body as he tumbled down, branches scratching and whipping at his skin, before he landed on the forest floor with a thud. With a crack, his skull hit something hard. Sharp pain shot through his head.
A blurred mass of colors and shapes swirled together in front of his eyes. When he squinted, he could just barely make out the shadowy form of a third pair of Titan legs ambling toward him, a fourth following closely behind.
What happened to the right wing?
On shaking arms, he tried to push himself up—but something made heavy contact with his chest and shoved him back down to the ground.
Only half conscious, Erwin knew suddenly that the weight on his ribs was a boot.
It took all of his energy to twist his neck and look up at the face of the man who had pinned him to the ground.
Erwin tasted iron on his tongue.
"No," he muttered. "You—"
Section Commander Bradley Zion met his eyes for less than a second before he swung the hilt of a blade down like a hammer, and Erwin knew nothing else.
A sudden, violent cold jolted him into consciousness. Freezing water was running down his face, splattering his skin, dripping from his hair. He gasped from the shock of it. He opened his eyes, and a cascade of light and water flooded his vision. He screwed his eyes shut again. Automatically, he tried to wipe his face, but his hand resisted. Something held it back.
He was kneeling on a cold, hard surface. Experimentally, he shifted his legs slightly. The floor was wet too, coated in grime and mud.
He opened his eyes again, this time prepared for the sting. He blinked a few times, fighting to bring his surroundings into focus.
Slowly, a gray stone wall took fuzzy shape before his eyes. In front of the wall stood a figure, half lit by the stark light of torches that burned only on the wall to Erwin's left. The other half was cast in shadow.
"Welcome back," Bradley said.
Erwin tried to stand, but his arms resisted again. He craned his neck, wincing at the stabbing pain. Two long chains, locked and pulled taut, fastened each wrist to the wall on either side. He pushed up from his knees, but he could not raise himself more than an inch or two before his shoulders screamed in agony, threatening to dislocate from his arms.
"Don't bother," Bradley said. A bucket, tiny rivulets of water still running out of it, lay overturned on the floor next to him. "It won't do you any good."
"You," Erwin choked.
"That's right." Bradley took a couple steps back and leaned against the wall, regarding Erwin with a hard, focused eye.
"Where…are we…?"
The words refused to cooperate, clinging to the inside of Erwin's dry mouth.
"You don't need to know," Bradley said. "You're never going to leave."
He regarded his prisoner with something that looked oddly like admiration.
"You're really something, Erwin. I knew you were good—but I didn't actually expect you to outsmart eight councilors, two Scouts, and Elijah William, the god-king of running circles around people."
"What…do you…mean…"
"I'm no mastermind," Bradley said smoothly, still watching Erwin with a calm, controlled air. "But I'll tell you what I think happened, and you can tell me if I've got it right. Sound good?"
Erwin glared at him.
"You figured out that the royalists had people reporting back to Eli and his friends from the inside," Bradley said. "I thought you might get that far. I mean, why else would you have to bring the whole force out with you, right?"
Bradley gave Erwin a moment to respond. Hearing nothing but silence, he continued undaunted.
"But somehow, you also worked out that we wanted Levi out of the way so we could get to you." Again—there was a flash of something like grudging respect in Bradley's eyes. "I have no idea how. How'd you get that one, Erwin?"
"Guessed…but why—?"
"You made us think you were diverting to Karanes because of the weather," Bradley interrupted. "But it was because you predicted the assassins in Trost, isn't it? You wanted to force our hand. You wanted to coax us out of hiding. And that's the funny part."
A tiny smile spread across Bradley's lips.
"We had no idea. We were sure you'd taken the bait. Not only that, but you had the whole Levi squad waiting for us, right? That's why they were following you when I saw you in the hall?"
"Yes," Erwin gasped out. "I knew…"
"Man," Bradley said. "I have to hand it to you—it was a great plan. It would have worked, too. You would've had both of us if you'd just gone through with it."
Bradley shook his head slowly, staring solemnly down at the floor.
"But you just couldn't let the rat go, could you?"
"Not…a rat…"
Bradley took two strides forward and struck Erwin in the mouth. He recoiled, the iron taste of blood spreading across his tongue. He had not made a sound, and he felt a flush of pride.
Again, Bradley drew back his fist. His section commander hit him again. And again. Horrible, stabbing pain shot down Erwin's head, through his neck, into his sides, his chest, his stomach. Bradley drove his knee into Erwin's ribs, and Erwin heard the crunch half a second before he felt the blinding surge of pain.
He heard the cry that escaped his lips as if it came from someone else.
"I'll bet you have a question."
Bradley kicked Erwin in the stomach. All the air rushed out of his lungs.
"Since you're so fucking smart, you must be wondering. Go on, Erwin. What's your question?"
Erwin gasped for breath.
"Come on," Bradley said. "Ask it."
"Why…" Erwin interrupted, barely able to suck in enough air to form the words. "Why…am I not…dead?"
"Give the man a prize," Bradley hissed. He slammed his fist into Erwin's nose with a crack. Erwin cried out again. "He's good at asking questions. That's what you did in your father's class, isn't it? Ask questions? Isn't that what killed him?"
Erwin's body tensed, waiting for another blow, but it didn't come.
"I'll tell you what's going to happen now." Bradley took a step back. "This time, I'm going to ask the questions, and you're going to answer them."
Fighting through the pain, Erwin tried to focus on Bradley's face. He was seeing double.
Questions? What questions?
"What…do you want…?"
"The royalists want to know a few things," Bradley said pleasantly. "We can start with the easy ones."
When had you intended to overthrow the king?
Erwin said nothing. Bradley beat him again. There was no part of Erwin's body that did not scream out in agony. His ears rang so loudly that he could hardly hear the next questions—and even what he did hear, he struggled to piece it together, to turn the words into intelligible sentences.
How did you plan to carry out the coup?
This time, Bradley shattered a finger. He broke a second for good measure. Erwin hated himself for the sounds that were coming out of his mouth—but at least they were not words. At least he was not answering.
Who else knows about your plans?
More blows. Two more fingers, this time on the other hand.
Who will try to carry out your plans when you die?
Still, Erwin did not respond. Bradley's face, twisted in sudden, violent rage, was the last thing Erwin saw before a boot slammed into the space between his eyes.
A branch waves in the warm breeze. Dotting the rough, pockmarked wood, the tiny green stars have just begun to open. The brown and gray bark, so drab just a day ago, has been engulfed by a shower of light, misty green.
Erwin stares.
"Come on." A firm, gentle hand tugs at his arm. "We'll be late."
"What is it?" he asks, pointing up at the tree. It dwarfs him; he is nothing but the tiniest speck in its dappled shade. It must be even taller than a Titan—but thinking about Titans always makes Erwin shudder. This tree only makes him wonder.
"That's a tree," his mother says, looking down at him with mild amusement. "You know that."
"No." He points again. "The little green stars. What are they doing?"
His mother stops and looks now—really looks.
"Oh," she says. She bends over and picks Erwin up, lifting him closer to the lowest branch. He holds out his hand and gently, reverently, touches one of the little green stars.
"Those are leaves," his mother says.
"No, they're not," Erwin says matter-of-factly. He knows all about leaves. He noticed the leaves for the first time last summer. Every time his mother took him outside, he sat on the grass and stared up into the leafy branches until someone called his name and made him move along.
These are not leaves. He would recognize them if they were.
"Don't you remember when the leaves all turned brown and fell?" His mother laughs at the memory. "I told you the leaves were dying, and you cried."
Erwin frowns. He doesn't like to remember. It was a sad day.
His mother looks at his face and laughs again. She kisses the top of his head.
"It's okay," she says. "The leaves are coming back now."
"Coming back?"
"I told you they would. You didn't believe me." She plucks a tiny star off the branch and shows it to Erwin. Delicately, she pulls the wrapping apart and Erwin lays a hesitant finger on the soft, vibrant green insides. "See? It's a bud. The leaf is inside. It's just starting to poke its head out."
"You said they died," Erwin says. He is naturally suspicious. "How are they back?"
"They only die during the winter. They come back in spring."
That can't be true. It has been cold forever and ever. The leaves all died a hundred days ago, maybe even more.
"But winter was so long," Erwin says.
"They always come back." His mother tousles his hair. "No matter how long the winter is, the leaves always come back."
Someone had grabbed him by the shoulders. Someone was shaking him.
He didn't want to come back. He just wanted to sleep.
His eyes blinked open, and with the light came the pain. The burning, clawing agony rushed through his body. It tugged on his arms and legs as if the pain were a child, begging him to do something, anything, to make it all go away.
How long were you planning on waiting before your coup? How were you going to do it? Who did you tell about the plan? Who's going to take it up now?
This time, Erwin spoke—just a little. He barely knew what he was saying. He knew only that the pain might go away, even just a little, if he at least said something.
"There was no plan…not yet…nobody knew…it'll die with me…"
And it was true. The partially formed strategies, the possibilities that branched out ahead of him like forks in a road, his hopes for a new governing power—all of it was a distant dream that he had barely discussed even with Levi. And dear God, that was the worst part—that he had given his whole heart for a dream that was going to die here, coated in its own blood on the cold stone floor of a half-lit dungeon.
Bradley didn't believe him. He didn't break more fingers—just crushed the ones that he had already snapped. He took a knife to Erwin's chest, his back. He twisted Erwin's left leg until his knee popped apart.
Erwin's throat was raw. He heard his own screams and thought vaguely that they must be coming from someone else. At some point, he would pass out again. He had to pass out again.
"If you won't talk about the plan," Bradley hissed, "maybe you'll talk about your father."
Slowly, groaning with the effort, Erwin shook his head.
"We've all heard the story." Bradley regarded Erwin with cold indifference. "You asked your father a question. He had a theory. He thought that a long time ago, the royal family had erased all the memories and records of some kind of secret, something they didn't want the people to know."
"You already…know…so what do you…want…"
"What did he think the secret was?"
"What…?"
Bradley kicked Erwin in the stomach.
"The secret. Your father must have had a theory. What did he think it was?"
"He didn't…know—"
Erwin cried out suddenly, cut off by a blow to his jaw.
"Of course he didn't know. I'm asking what he thought."
"No…nothing else…didn't think…"
Bradley took another step forward.
"No," Erwin gasped. "Please…going to kill me…so…"
"Oh, I will," Bradley said, understanding Erwin's meaning perfectly. "But not yet."
His father is quiet and gentle. He does not need to be loud to command his students' attention. There is something about him that demands interest, that invites curiosity about everything—arithmetic, literature, history.
"Over a hundred years ago," his father explains, "the Titans killed almost all of humanity. Only a very small percentage of humans managed to escape inside Walls Sina, Rose, and Maria. Inside these walls, we have attained an ideal world—or at least, as ideal a world as we can create when there are Titans wandering outside," he adds with a small smile.
The class waits expectantly.
"The history of this ideal world of ours will be the subject of our studies over the next month or so. Please turn to Chapter One. It begins on page twelve."
But Erwin does not turn to page twelve. He has already stopped listening. Instead, he is flipping through his textbook. Every chapter contains long, detailed paragraphs; citations to primary documents; lists of names and dates and records. Every chapter, that is, except for the introduction. It takes the textbook only half a page to describe the entire history of the time before the walls.
It doesn't make sense. Why aren't there any records from the time before the walls? Why isn't there any more information? And…
A wide-eyed schoolboy raises his hand, so focused on his question that he doesn't even notice the fear in his teacher's eyes.
"Yes, Erwin?"
"How do we know that there aren't any humans outside the walls?"
His father's smile stays plastered on his face.
"Only on-topic questions, please, Erwin. We're starting Chapter One. Any questions about that?"
"No," Erwin mutters. He stares down at the book.
That night, Erwin avoids his father's eyes during dinner. He is quiet, picking at the food on his plate.
"How was your day?" his mother asks.
"Fine," Erwin says. His mother glances at his father, and something passes between them. Erwin pretends not to notice. He takes two more bites, dutifully takes his plate into the kitchen and cleans it, then climbs the stairs. He sits on his bed, the history book lying open in front of him.
Maybe half an hour later, there is a knock on the door. Erwin's father comes in quietly and sits down at the foot of his bed.
"I'm sorry for dismissing your question today," he says. "You have good questions, and you should always ask them."
Erwin doesn't meet his father's gaze. He fiddles with the hem of the bedspread, frowning down at his hands.
His father sighs.
"I do have an answer," he says. "But I couldn't say it in front of the other children."
Erwin finally looks up.
"Come down to the kitchen with me." His father holds out his hand to Erwin. "And I'll tell you."
Somehow, the First King erased everyone's memories. Somehow, the royal family destroyed all the records of the world before the walls. There might still be humans out there somewhere. After all, why would the government delete all evidence of the past unless they were protecting something—a secret so powerful that it could rewrite the future?
His father speculates even further. The humans turn into Titans. The Titans turn into the walls.
"How do we prove it?" Erwin asks.
Erwin's father smiles fondly down at him.
"I don't think I can," he says. "But there are those who go outside the walls—and they can fight the Titans, study them, learn more about what they are. Perhaps one day they will have the skills and resources necessary to uncover the truth."
"You mean the Scouts."
"Yes," his father replies. "I mean the Scouts."
He reaches across the table and squeezes Erwin's shoulder.
"Please," he adds, "keep these theories to yourself. Can I trust you to do that?"
Erwin nods, but he doesn't understand why he's not supposed to tell. He assumes it's because his father is embarrassed that the theory is just speculation, that he doesn't have any proof.
And maybe that is why he doesn't keep his promise.
Erwin talks to his classmates. He tells them about his father's ideas. He should know better, but he doesn't. The world is bigger than anyone ever thought, than anyone ever dreamed, and he can't keep quiet.
The next day, two men in uniform stop Erwin on his way to school. They have unicorns on their jackets. They tell Erwin that they know he has been telling strange stories to his classmates. They say the stories could get Erwin in trouble, but not if he is a good boy and tells the truth. They say it's against the law to lie to the Military Police.
Erwin is afraid. He's never broken the rules before. He tells them that he heard the stories from his father.
His father doesn't come home. He never comes home again.
Now he's sitting in the kitchen, and his mother is crying. He's never seen his mother cry before. They said it was an accident, but even though he's only eight years old, he knows who killed his father and why. His mother is crying, and his father is dead, and it's Erwin's fault, and he deserves to be beaten to death on this cold stone floor—he deserves this hell of being broken, of being carved until he bleeds all his sins away—
Now he's staring up at the giant tree again, but this time, his mother is not here. This time, he's not looking at the little green stars. This time, the leaves are dead, and someone has nailed a huge black falcon to the trunk of the tree.
Now he's kneeling on the fresh dirt in front of a clean stone that bears his father's name. Rain is soaking the earth. He's shaking, but not from the chill of the raindrops that drip from his hair and clothes. His face is buried in his hands, and he's sobbing.
"I'm sorry," he barely manages to choke out. "I'm so sorry…"
His father does not answer.
"I'll prove it," he says. "I swear I'll prove it…everything you told me…even if it kills me…"
And it will.
It will.
"Sorry I took so long…"
A new voice dragged Erwin out of the waking dreams. He had heard this voice before, but it wasn't Bradley's—he knew that voice a thousand years ago—
"How are things going here?"
Erwin cracked his eyelids open. Through a blurry haze, he saw a man talking to Bradley near the door. He squinted, trying to make out the face.
Oh.
Maynerd.
"Nothing yet," Bradley grumbled. "But it shouldn't be long now."
"Is he conscious?" Maynerd asked, taking a step toward Erwin and peering at his face.
"He's been in and out." Bradley dropped something—a knife, an iron bar, Erwin's bleary eyes couldn't tell—and it clattered to the floor. "What's going on in Karanes?"
So we're outside Wall Rose…
"About what you'd expect," Maynerd said. "Arankowski ordered the retreat when they realized what had happened to the right wing. They're convinced a Titan ate the commander, so that's good."
"And the captain?"
"Dead. Hange sent out a second force this morning to look for him. They searched the whole forest, but all they found was his cloak—bitten off at the hood, apparently. Soaked in blood."
All the tension went out of Erwin's body.
He felt himself slumping forward, pulling on the chains that held his wrists. His arms and shoulders howled in pain, but it was nothing compared to the roaring in his chest, torn open by an invisible knife. He was bleeding out, bleeding all over the floor, so why wasn't there any blood?
First his father. Now Levi.
"Please," he whispered. He knew his plea was barely audible. He didn't have the energy to speak louder. "Please… just…kill me…"
"Soon," Bradley said. "I still think you're holding out on us."
But he wasn't. He had given up everything, sacrificed everyone, for the hope that one day he might prove his father right, understand the Titans, free humanity.
I want to beat the Titans.
Bradley took an iron bar to Erwin's back. Maybe Erwin screamed—probably he did—but whatever noises he made, he couldn't hear them anymore.
And when the Titans are gone, I want to tear down the walls.
A cloak, bitten off at the hood. Soaked in blood. Erwin had given Levi that cloak. It was the coldest autumn in twenty years, and Levi needed it, and oh God, he was never going to need it again.
I want all the people to stream out into open fields—I want them to dive into lakes and rivers, to lie in the grass and stare up at the clouds, to watch their children run and play in the forest.
Would the Colossal and the Armored come back? Would they break down the gate of Krolva or Karanes next? How long would humanity last against the Titans now?
I want to give every man, woman, and child the opportunity to step into the unknown and not to be afraid.
At least it would be over soon.
I want humanity to be free.
He's standing in a green field. The sun is setting. About ten feet away, a shadow stands facing him, silhouetted by a backdrop of dying light. The bursting rays of the sun are so bright that Erwin has to shield his eyes.
He cannot see the shadow's face. He does not need to.
"I devoured you," Erwin says. "Just like I said I would."
"I made a choice," Levi replies. "I don't regret it."
"I killed you."
"No. I died for you. There's a difference."
"I'm the falcon."
"You're Erwin Smith." Levi reaches out his hand, but Erwin is too far away. "And I think you're dying."
"Good." Tears are running down Erwin's face.
"No," Levi says. "Don't. Not yet."
"Why?"
Levi pauses. He doesn't know. Why should he? He is not really here. He is dead.
"Stay alive," he says eventually. "For me."
Erwin slipped back into the haze of reality only to be stabbed through and flattened out by the constant, driving pain. He could no longer escape from it even in dreams. Bradley was doing his best to control the injuries, but even so, Erwin could feel that his life—just like Elijah William's favorite picture of reality—was balancing precariously on a very thin string. Sometimes when he closed his eyes, he could see the ledge of the roof back at headquarters, and he knew that if he just stumbled a few feet forward, if he just stepped off the ledge—
For me.
And he didn't jump.
For God knows how long, Erwin stayed alive.
"Do we have to do it outside?" Levi grumbles, following a few feet behind Erwin.
"Why not?"
Ever since Zachary assigned their first commission, Erwin has been perpetually moody—but today it is mid-June, the sky is a pale blue, a warm breeze is blowing across the grounds, and for at least these few hours, his spirits are unusually high. He walks across the grounds, a book tucked under his arm, enjoying the glowing warmth on his skin.
They reach the bank of the pond. Erwin settles back against a tree and hands the book to Levi.
"What if someone sees?" Levi complains.
"No one comes down here," Erwin insists. He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, turning his face up to the sun. "Start reading. Page 32."
Levi flops down in the grass. He mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like insubordination, but he opens the book anyway. He clears his throat before he begins—haltingly, ploddingly—to read out loud. He has to stop frequently to sound out the syllables for the longer words. Sometimes he reads too quickly and has to restart entire sentences.
Only half of Erwin listens to Levi read. The other half listens to the lapping of the water on the shore, the rustling of the breeze in the leaves, the warbling of the birds in the forest…
"Did you fall asleep?"
Erwin wakes with a start.
"No," he says. "You're doing well. Keep going."
Levi shuts the book. With a huff, he rolls over onto his back and stares up at the twisting branches that stretch out over the two of them, shielding them from the sun. Erwin follows his gaze up to the vibrant greenery overhead.
"You know," Erwin says, "one of my first memories is of leaves."
"Of course it is," Levi mutters.
"Excuse me?"
"Fine, fine, go ahead." Underneath the surliness lies a touch of fondness. "Tell me about the leaves."
"It was the first summer I really remember. I must have been three or four. I would sit on the ground for hours and stare up at the way the leaves moved in the wind."
"Wow. That is not what I did when I was four."
"Levi…"
"Sorry. Keep going."
"That fall," Erwin continued, "when they all changed colors and fell off the trees, I cried. I thought they were gone forever."
"Huh."
Erwin glances over at Levi's face. In his eyes, Erwin can just make out the reflection of the leaves, flecked with golden light.
"For me it was just about a year ago," Levi says, breaking the short silence.
"What was?"
"The first time I saw a tree."
"Oh."
For a minute or two, Erwin is quiet. He doesn't know what to say to that.
"Were you finished?" Levi asks. "With your leaf story?"
"I don't know that it's really a story." Erwin leans back and gazes up at the sky. "I was so surprised when the trees turned green again. I didn't believe my mother at first when she said the leaves always grow back in the spring."
"You believe her now?"
Erwin gives Levi a sideways glance.
"Of course I do. I see it happen every year."
"I don't know," Levi says with a shrug. "Sounds a little far-fetched to me."
He's joking, of course, but maybe there's a tiny part of him that isn't.
"I don't think you're going to get anything else out of him."
"No?"
Erwin kept his eyes shut. He wanted to be back in the dream. If he just pretended to be unconscious, maybe he…
"It's your call. But I think it's time to kill him now."
There was a pause. A consideration.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think you're right."
Somewhere in the distance, there was a clatter of wood on stone. Without opening his eyes, Erwin could sense the sudden alertness, the quick glance between the two Scouts.
"What was—"
A rush of air. A loud crash.
Running footsteps. Someone shouted. A scuffle.
A man cried out in pain. More than one man. There was a crack, a scream, a thud.
A breath of time. Footsteps advancing toward him. In the labyrinth of his tired, aching brain, Erwin waited for, even longed for, the throbbing sting of the knife that would take his life at last.
Instead, a pair of hands touched Erwin's face.
He pulled back, wincing, his eyes still screwed shut. He expected the hands to grab, to twist, to rake through his skin.
But they didn't.
The touch was impossibly gentle.
"Erwin…"
Erwin's breath caught in his throat.
Slowly, his eyes blinked open.
"Levi," he choked.
Dried blood was caked into Levi's hair. A long cut, barely scabbed over, ran from his forehead down to his jaw. A large purple bruise was splattered across his collarbone.
"You're alive," Erwin gasped. "You're hurt."
"Erwin, what did they—"
Levi cut himself off. His eyes took in Erwin's face before traveling down the rest of his body. His face was expressionless, controlled, except for a tiny twitch in the corner of his jaw. He reached out and felt around the cuffs that held Erwin's wrists. Although the touch was careful, even tender, Erwin still flinched.
"Shit," Levi said. "Sorry—Erwin, I—"
He pulled his hands away and crossed quickly over to the two unconscious bodies on the floor. He fumbled through their clothing, searching their pockets. A moment later, he returned, a tiny key glinting in his hands. A click, and Erwin's wrists were free.
Erwin fell forward. Levi caught him. The pressure of Levi's arms around him hurt like hell, but he didn't care.
"You're alive," Erwin said again. "You're not dead."
"Maybe don't try to talk," Levi said. His voice was tight. Strained.
"How did you…"
"Shush," Levi said. Gently, he helped Erwin stumble over to the wall. Out of breath from the short walk, Erwin slumped against the stone and slid down to the floor. As Levi knelt down beside him, he let out a tiny grunt of pain. For the first time, Erwin caught sight of the long, bleeding gash that had split Levi's right thigh like a crack of lightning.
Levi fished a small canteen out of his uniform.
"Water," he said. He eyed Erwin's wrecked hands for a moment, then uncapped the canteen and held it up to his commander's lips. Erwin let out a tiny sigh of relief as the liquid life ran down his throat.
"I'm going to…look you over," Levi said. "It might hurt. I'm sorry."
Erwin nodded. Tentatively, Levi examined Erwin's chest, his stomach, his arms, his back, his broken fingers, his twisted knee. Throughout this slow, almost clinical inspection, Levi remained imperturbable, stone-faced—all except for that one tiny, twitching muscle in his jaw.
"Give me a minute," Levi said abruptly. He walked over to Bradley—limping a little, Erwin could see now—and ripped the cloak off his back. He stood for a moment, cutting off small strips with his knife. Then he returned to Erwin, kneeling back down and taking his commander's right hand into both of his own. Methodically, delicately, he wrapped the broken fingers, binding them to their unbroken neighbors.
As Levi worked, Erwin studied Levi's face through eyes nearly swollen shut. The same grey eyes. The same focused expression. Not dead. Breathing. Still alive. Not dead.
"What happened?" Erwin asked. It was a little easier to form words now that his mouth was no longer a desert.
"I'll tell you later." Levi sat back and studied Erwin appraisingly. After several seconds of thought, he had apparently reached a decision, because he grabbed the cloak and began to cut wider strips out of it.
Levi was here. Breathing. Not dead.
"You're injured," Erwin said.
Without looking up, Levi shook his head.
"It's nothing," he muttered. "Not compared to…"
Still without looking, Levi gestured vaguely at Erwin.
Every part of Erwin's body was on fire, and every movement was excruciating, and he might pass out again at any moment, but he needed to know more than he needed to breathe.
"Please," he said. "They found your cloak."
Levi sighed. He ripped off another strip of cloth. "I walked."
"You walked…forty miles?"
Erwin's question ended in a deep, hacking cough. It felt like someone was wringing out his insides. He heard himself crying out from the pain.
"Okay," Levi said quickly, "yes, fine, okay, just please don't talk or move or—"
He broke off before he could finish. His face was still impassive, but his hands were trembling.
"Sometime late on Friday afternoon, I saw flares. Ten, fifteen miles away, maybe? I assumed the plan had worked."
Levi counted the strips, then cut another one.
"But there were a lot of flares. Nobody came. I knew something was wrong."
Evidently satisfied with the number of strips he had cut, Levi pulled Erwin an inch or two away from the wall and began wrapping bandages around his torn torso.
"I wanted to start that night," he said, "but I would've been walking through an open field in the dark, and I wouldn't have been able to see my compass anyway, so I had to wait for the morning."
He paused, staring blankly at the long, jagged gashes that covered Erwin's skin.
Again, that twitch.
"I walked back. I got back to Karanes yesterday, just after dark. They told me you were dead. I didn't believe them."
"How did—"
"No," Levi insisted, tugging angrily on one of the bandages. Erwin winced. "Sorry. Don't talk. Hange said you were killed along with the entire right wing. But I guessed the spies were behind it—and if that was true, then at least one of them should have made it back to Karanes. Since everyone from the right wing had disappeared, I figured they must have taken you somewhere."
He took a deep breath.
"That's what I hoped at least."
"Where are—?"
"An abandoned castle," Levi said quickly before Erwin could get another word out. "Only three or four miles from the gate. I've been looking for you all night."
"So it's…"
"Sunday morning," Levi finished.
Levi had been out in Titan territory all night. No light, no way to tell where he was going.
"What about the…" It hurt too much to finish, but he reached out a mangled hand and hovered over the matted blood in Levi's hair, and he knew Levi understood.
"I fought Titans." Levi tied off the last bandage and sat back on his heels, frowning at his handiwork. "Too many of them."
"Your leg?"
"Abnormal. Last night, in the dark."
"You fought an Abnormal in the—"
"Erwin, I promise that I will regale you with all the stories later, but we have other problems to deal with right now."
"Right." Erwin closed his eyes, fighting off a sudden wave of nausea. "These two…are the only spies."
"You're sure?"
"Yes…Bradley said…"
"Okay." Levi climbed to his feet, wincing a little at the pressure on his right leg. "I'm going to get the confessions."
Erwin almost protested that the confessions could wait until they returned to Karanes, but then he reconsidered. Both he and Levi were injured, and they still had to cross several miles of Titan territory before making it back to Karanes. Anything could happen between here and there. They needed written confessions as insurance.
Erwin tried to push himself up off the floor.
"I can—"
"You can't do a damn thing," Levi interrupted sharply. Then, more softly: "And even if you could, you shouldn't have to."
"Yes…okay, yes." With a groan, Erwin fell back against the wall. "Remember…they have to write the confessions."
"I know."
Erwin's forehead wrinkled in concern. "Do you have…anything to write with…paper, or…"
"Don't worry about it," Levi said. "It's fine. See if you can sleep. I'll be back."
Levi dragged the two bodies out of the room—first Bradley, then Maynerd. Painfully, Erwin stretched out on the floor and closed his eyes. He didn't manage to fall asleep—the aching that filled every square inch of his body set total unconsciousness out of reach—but he did slip into a kind of haze, a half-consciousness permeated only by the horrifying screams floating in from the hallway.
After what felt like minutes, but might have been hours, someone was tapping gently on his shoulder.
"It's done," Levi said. "We should go."
He helped Erwin stand. Every step of the walk to the door sent waves of pain coursing through Erwin's body. Periodically, Levi drew in a sharp breath of his own, and Erwin felt a pang of guilt that Levi had to support them both on only one good leg.
They stumbled out into the hallway, where Bradley and Maynerd lay on the floor like rag dolls, once again unconscious. Both were shirtless, both had been stripped of their harnesses, both were practically painted in rivers of red.
Erwin stopped short.
"Where…are the confessions?"
"I got them," Levi said. "It's fine."
"Levi…"
With a sigh, Levi lowered Erwin slowly to his knees. He limped over to Maynerd, grabbed a crumpled shirt off of the floor, and sponged the pools of blood off of the Scout's back. His skin had been carved into a forest of gashes.
"I don't…" Erwin began, then stopped. His eyes had fallen on the small of Maynerd's back, where a string of ragged cuts, meaningless a moment ago, had suddenly arranged themselves into a series of spidery, tortured letters:
Bradley Zion.
He scanned the rest of the skin on Maynerd's back—then looked away.
He had seen all that he needed to see.
"Let's go," Levi said.
Erwin nodded.
On a warm day in May, just over a year since the Survey Corps had received their first commission, Erwin Smith took a nap in his office. It was only mid-morning, and he had slept a full seven hours the night before, but the morning sun was gentle and the breeze through the window was cool, and he had the time.
Sometime in the past few weeks, someone had moved a couch in here—given how many nights Levi had spent in this office, Erwin should have thought of that earlier—and that was where Erwin slept. Not face-down in a stack of papers, not on the floor underneath his desk. He had a pillow under his head. The cushions were ripped, but soft.
The creak of the office door woke him up. In walked Levi, carrying a tray with two porcelain teacups, two bowls, and four silver spoons. He took one look at Erwin, stretched out half-asleep on the couch, and rolled his eyes.
"Good morning," he said, setting the tray down on Erwin's desk. He balanced a spoon on top of each saucer and held a steaming cup out to Erwin.
"Thank you," Erwin said with a smile, reaching out and accepting the teacup.
He didn't even like tea all that much. But Levi did, and so Erwin had gotten used to drinking it every day. He had reached the point where he would miss it if it were gone, and in the end, maybe that was all it meant to like something.
"We got another update," Levi said, setting down his own cup and sinking into the chair opposite the desk. Erwin rose, taking a sip of his tea, and settled into his own chair as Levi pulled a letter out of his jacket and slid it across the desk. "From Berta."
Erwin looked at the torn envelope but did not pick it up. "You've read it?"
"Yeah. The court accepted the confessions. All that nonsense about forced confessions didn't hold up, I guess."
"It's fortunate that the confessions weren't the only evidence." Erwin took another sip and leaned back in his chair.
"Yeah," Levi said, dropping a spoon into each bowl and passing one over to Erwin. "Countless witnesses who saw the right wing get practically annihilated, confirmation that you were missing for nearly three days, plus all your injuries, and—"
"True," Erwin said lightly. "But not what I meant. You vouched for the confessions, and your testimony holds weight. The people trust you."
"They trust you too."
"Their faith in me is malleable." If this past year had taught Erwin anything, it had taught him that. "But I have you, and that makes their confidence in me significantly stronger."
Levi cleared his throat.
"Anyway," he said, "Bradley and Maynerd have been convicted and sentenced."
"To?"
"Execution."
"And the state of the Regiment Council?" Erwin prompted.
"Yeah…apparently nobody really knows yet," Levi grumbled. "Everyone in the Eli faction is still suspended. Most of them are still waiting for trial. It sounds like their main defense is that the whole plan was William's."
"The whole plan?" Erwin looked up, puzzled. "Meaning…?"
"The plan to buy the votes and blackmail you into getting rid of me so they could kill you. That plan. They're saying William came up with it before he died, and they were just going through with it."
Erwin stared out the window, thoughtfully running a finger along the rim of his teacup. "Strange. Why invent such an elaborate plan and then kill himself before seeing it through?"
"I mean, that's what they've been telling the court." Levi shrugged. "I guess we'll never know if it's really true."
"I suppose not."
"Anyway," Levi continued, "Berta seems confident that even if they pull strings and worm out of conviction, Zachary will never let them back on the council."
"That's all we need," Erwin said.
"I guess so."
A little awkwardly, Erwin picked up the spoon from his bowl. The bones in his fingers had not yet fully healed, but at least he could painlessly eat soup out of a bowl now, which was more than he could have done a month ago.
He took a bite, and he asked Levi about something—his squad, or perhaps that morning's training, or the condition of the newest recruits—and for the first time in what felt like eternity, the fate of humanity did not hang on either the question or the answer. Erwin sipped his tea slowly as Levi complained about how the bathrooms in the barracks had degenerated into cesspools of filth, and how it was definitely the fault of all those new recruits, and how the Training Corps needed to start teaching those brats how to clean properly. As Levi talked, a few specks of floating dust caught the rays of the noontime sun streaming in through the window, and Erwin had the time to notice the way the dust danced in the light.
It occurred to Erwin that the man who sat across from him was not the same recruit who had slouched in that same chair with crossed arms and a sullen expression so many times during the autumn of 844. That man never would have strung this many words together; he never would have eaten casually in front of an enemy. Only half-listening to Levi's diatribe, Erwin found himself studying his friend's posture: the relaxed dip of his shoulders, the loose grip of his fingers on the teacup, the way he left his heart and throat completely exposed and showed no signs of caring.
"If they don't figure out how to keep that place clean, I swear I'm gonna chop them up and feed all their bits to the fish in the pond."
Okay, so maybe Levi wasn't so different after all.
Maybe it was Erwin who had changed.
I'll break you, Erwin had thought so long ago. How strange that in the end, Erwin was the one who had been broken and put back together again, who had died in the winter and come back to life in the spring.
Just like the leaves that waved outside his window.
Suddenly, Erwin realized that Levi had finished his rant several seconds ago and was now looking at him expectantly.
"Yes." Erwin nodded sagely. "Absolutely. I agree."
Apparently satisfied, Levi leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the desk. He stared down at the letter that still lay in front of Erwin.
"So we know for sure there won't be any more commissions," he said.
"Yes," Erwin agreed. "Zachary has already assured me that the commanding power of the Survey Corps is fully back in my hands."
"And there won't be any reconfirmation votes."
"That's right. From what I've heard, the interim council has rescinded that policy."
"So." Levi tilted his head slightly to one side. "We won."
"This battle, yes. We won."
"Okay."
Another silence fell. Levi let the unspoken question hang in the air for a moment.
Then he asked it.
"So what do we do now?"
We find the truth.
We push out farther.
We prove my father right.
"We beat the Titans," Erwin said. "We win the war."