Hello, Sorry for the delay, coming home from work/gym everyday, it gets really hard to pick writing a story over a quick shower and jumping into bed. If you're looking for more Floch-centric stories to read while this isn't being updated I'd recommend my other story "Because you ran away." and if that one's not being updated then... oh.
So that poll I talked about:
Ymir: 10 votes / Eren: 5 votes / Sandra: 3 votes / Sasha/Jean: 2 votes / Historia/Mikasa: 0 votes.
Wow! That was surprising, I fully expected Eren to be in the lead since Fleren is the biggest ship for Floch besides Flojean. TO BE FAIR, I should have probably allowed the poll to run for longer than 11 days but oh well. As for Ymir&Floch I definitely saw it coming (at least 2nd place) since I've seen a lot of people in support of them both. Personally I've only viewed them together as friends but I can definitely see the potential, feel a little proud that I made people unironically ship two characters who have 0 lines of dialogue together in canon. (But I say this more because of how people usually treat Floch in the fandom)
I was honestly surprised Sandra got more votes than Jean/Sasha, she's basically an OC due to how little material canon provided about her, she only has like four short lines of dialogue in the anime. So what does all of this mean? Mostly nothing, not for a long time anyway, until maybe far into the future where I'll think about the results of this poll and maybe or maybe not allow it to influence a few of my decisions.
Anyway, I am no logner curious about that so enjoy! This chapter felt a little experimental to me, consider the tiny bits of comic relief as me telling you to smile and look at the fishies while I load a revolver behind you.
Day 13
Eight years was not a long time.
It felt painfully finite– a fleeting sliver of existence, insufficient for the grandeur of his and Armin's aspirations. How could he even muster patience for the mundane while a countdown to death ticked away above him? Eight years to conquer a world tantalizingly out of reach, eight years to understand it, and much more time required to explore it. All that was beyond these walls, kept away from him... Eight years... was simply not enough. Frustration surged through him, coiling his fingers into tight fists and grinding his teeth in futile resistance.
It would have been much better if he remained oblivious to this fact.
Damn it, once again he was right.
Eren released a sigh, his body reclining against the cool grass. Gazing upwards, he surrendered himself to the embrace of the evening sky, where the sun's golden tendrils stretched lazily and a gentle breeze guided the retreat of wispy clouds. The scouts around him dotted the scene as they gathered around tables out in the meadows, sharing stories and laughter over steaming cups of tea. In due time, he would join their circle, once his fatigued muscles found respite from the exhaustive toll of his titan transformations, a sheen of sweat clinging to his skin. He couldn't help but feel their gazes upon him, a nagging anxiety clawed at his thoughts.
Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt... and now Ymir as well. All of them titans much like him, and all of them bound to the same curse as he was. He could hardly believe the first three were titans at first, to the point where he needed to hear it from them firsthand to accept the fact. But Ymir? She never striked him as suspicious or noteworthy, she always seemed to hang around Krista and Floch, happily blending into the background. He doubted any of their classmates knew much about her, save for maybe Floch, but even then Eren didn't think the redhead would be inclined to speak about it. He might have been stubborn at times but even he could tell that Ymir was a sore subject for Floch.
That said, he wondered how Krista and the rest were dealing with the news, it's been days since he was last allowed to speak to any of them.
Abruptly, a presence eclipsed the waning sun, casting a shadow over Eren who turned his head to glance at them.
"Here, have this." Floch offered, extending a curved canteen swathed in worn leather.
"Thanks."
Gratitude danced within Eren's gaze as he accepted the water, its cool surface a balm against his lips. A contented exhale escaped him, and he dabbed his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform. Floch eased onto the grass beside him, side by side, they gazed at the horizon in comfortable silence. Eren sent him a sidelong glance, hesitating to speak, though thankfully Floch beat him to it.
"So, learn anything good?"
Eren glowered. "I doubt there's anything you wouldn't already know about." He let out a frustrated huff before his gaze wandered to the periphery. "Section commander Hange is a damn slave driver, after what happened yesterday she was quick to forget about those dead titans we had in capitivty and set her eyes on me instead. But I guess her enthusiasm makes it somewhat worthwhile." As their attention trailed after Hange's retreating form, clutching her notes with fervor while Moblit worriedly followed after her, Eren couldn't help but note her passion.
Floch leaned in slightly, his perceptive gaze capturing Eren's unease. "At least she didn't tie you up in a cell underground," Eren shuddered at that, from where they slept at night, the screams sometimes leaked in. "But, it seems like there's more on your mind than just being fleshy target practice."
Eren wearily looked back at him, his eyes dulling with dejection. "It's hard not to dwell on everything, maybe it's too late for regrets, but there's a part of me that wishes I could undo some of it." A slow swivel of his head brought Eren's gaze to meet Floch's inquisitive eyes. "You ever feel like no matter what you do, life refuses to get any better?"
Floch contemplated for a few moments, glancing down diagonally at the grass. After a beat, he closed his eyes with a nonchalant shrug and leaned back, propping himself on his hands. "Yeah, sometimes, but it doesn't really matter."
Eren's brows knitted. "Huh?"
"I only ever felt that way twice, once a long time ago and the second time was... back in Trost when I thought you were gone."
"But I pressed on regardless, because that wasn't the end, just another test. A trial by fire that we have to take in order to reach the other side. Make no mistake, once we reach beyond these walls, life can only get better from there." Eren looked back at him in awe before his face fell and a frown marred his features.
"That sounds simple for you to say, especially without having an expiration date."
"I've watched men come and go, their dreams crumble or flourish but the essence is all the same, determination – Not the span of years, but the mark you etch on the world with the time you're granted. Some merely meander through their lives, bystanders in their own story. Others seize control." Floch said.
"I didn't sign up thinking I'd grow old and fat in some snug office. I embraced the knowledge that I might meet an early end and pressed on regardless, wishing in the very least that my death would be one I could confidently say was meaningful." Floch's gaze narrowed pensively, before a quirky smile painted across his lips. "But the past is in the past."
Eren felt confused by the way the redhead spoke about things, like someone wise beyond their years. Floch settled cross-legged, that unnerving but infectious smile still adorning his face.
"Whatever, I'm throwing in the towel at this point. Last night just can't be topped," Eren's voice carried an air of resignation.
A glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes as he shot him a knowing look. "You might be surprised, Eren. Though if you do punch me again I will stab you." His words held a subtle promise, which Eren was fully aware of. A flicker at the edge of his vision diverted his attention momentarily, his gaze darting toward a nearby table. A hint of recognition sparkled in Petra's eyes before she averted her gaze after being caught.
Floch's attention shifted back to Eren. "Say, how are things going with your new squad?"
Eren's interest was piqued, and he leaned in a bit. "Well... That Oluo guy tried to throw his weight around when we first met, but that backfired pretty quickly, he seems better now. Miss Petra was more approachable, Eld and Gunther are both a fair and reasonable bunch and captain Levi is... Captain Levi. We're far from perfect squadmates, but I'd say it's a decent start, don't you think?"
A contemplative hum resonated from Floch. "Sure, but just a heads-up: it's better not to address Petra as 'Miss.' She's not a fan."
Eren's demeanor shifted abruptly in a mix of realization and apprehension. "Got it, thanks for the warning." However, a cloud seemed to drift over his thoughts, casting a shadow across his expression. "Though, truth be told, even though it's only been a week, there's this feeling that things aren't quite right. I know part of it is because of my circumstances, but I'm giving it my all to prove my worth to everyone here."
"I see, that's why I'm telling you all of this, I'm confident you'll show them who you really are, just gotta work hard at it." Floch said before he stood up, noticing somebody's arrival behind them.
"That's right!" Eren agreed, determination burning in his eyes.
"Oi, Eren."
The swiftness with which Eren sprang to his feet startled Floch, he pivoted around, his posture rigid as a statue, his nervous gaze met Levi Ackerman. Levi gestured behind him, where a pair of horses stood, and Hange waved from astride one of them. "If you two are done kissing then you wouldn't mind joining us for more testing would you? Four Eyes over there wants to stuff you into a well to check how effective it is against your transformation. You can still pull off another one, right? Or am I just wasting my time and breath over here?"
"O-one more test? I- I thought we were done for today..." Eren paled as his voice wavered in astonishment, his eyes darting between the two officers before him. Floch couldn't suppress a hint of amusement, nudging Eren forward with mock enthusiasm. "Eren's all up for it. He's been practically radiating excitement after a nice, long rest! Aren't you, Eren?" His grin was playful, and he gave Eren an encouraging shove toward the waiting duo.
"Then let's go get it over with." Levi said as he turned around to leave.
Eren glared at him for the betrayal as he reluctantly moved forward, caught in the inexorable grasp of the mad scientist's experiment. Floch's amusement morphed into a sly grin as he blew him a kiss, raising his other hand to deliver a thumbs-up as Eren distanced himself. But the second the boy looked away, Floch's expression hardened into a mask of indifference.
He turned to glance at the tables where Squad Levi and the few members of Squad Mike sat and his eyes narrowed.
He needed to nip things in the bud.
These past couple of weeks had thrown her into a loop.
First, Trost. Then, Eren. Followed by Ymir, Floch and those other three entering the picture. Everything that had unfolded around them left her feeling constantly one step behind, desperately attempting to catch up. Despite all she had been through until this point, a vivid memory tugged at her. That day by wall Rose when she had yearned to leap into the fray, to lend a hand to her comrades at HQ at her own expense. Ymir had restrained her back then knowingly, and now, she had acted in a way that seemed hypocritical—rushing ahead, leaving her behind.
Their once-promised words resounded in her mind. Yet, her feelings were conflicted. Had this been Ymir's secret all along? The pieces fell into place, explaining how she had managed to rescue Daz and descend that cliff. Historia frowned as she pondered it all. Was it her turn now? Should she shed the carefully crafted mask she had worn for years and reveal her true self? Or should she persist as she was, the person Ymir had wanted gone, the person who disgusted Floch Forster to no end?
Regret gnawed at her. That night, she wished she had done more. Perhaps if she had called out to Ymir, she could have halted her escape, urged her to stay by her side. True, after hearing Armin's words, she realized her own selfishness, understanding that Ymir had acted for her own good. But had she ever asked for such a sacrifice? Would that night be their final meeting? What had become of their promise? How could she tell Ymir her true name now?
Was she just destined to lose every person who ever mattered to her without being able to lift a finger?
Her eyes squeezed with worry, a certain redhead's words from the night before replaying in the back of her mind.
"Once you inherit one of the nine titans, you are cursed to live thirteen years before you're forced to pass down the powers or die."
How much time did she have left?
Historia let out a weary sigh as she continued to assist her comrades from the one-hundred and fourth unit in moving crates and organizing their supplies in the storage room. The tasks were demanding, and her fellow classmates were putting in their fair share of effort. Over to the side, Connie and Sasha engaged in their usual antics. Mylius, Gordon, and Armin struggled with a particularly hefty crate, while Mikasa, with her astonishing strength, carried three boxes at once and deposited them effortlessly.
"I still can't wrap my head around how she does that," Mina remarked, standing beside Historia. She wiped a droplet of sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her uniform.
Historia absentmindedly nodded as she carefully set down the object she had been carrying. Connie and Sasha joined her in taking a much-needed breather, with Connie collapsing against one of the boxes. "Man, these scouts are serious about their equipment. Who would've thought a missing kitchen knife would lead to all this?" he groaned.
"No joke. Even Shadis wasn't this strict, and we had our fair share of missing or improperly returned ODM gear," Mylius chimed in as he settled down next to Connie.
"At least you're not shovelling horse shit like Sandra and Ruth," Gordon chimed in as both boys grimaced, those two drew the short end of the stick.
"Couldn't they just use ODM blades for cooking?" Sasha whined, leaning against the wall. Mikasa, having finished her task, stood beside her.
"Sasha, those are for combat, not for the kitchen," she corrected, earning a playful pout from Sasha.
Mina hesitated for a moment before addressing Historia, her voice tinged with curiosity, "Say... We've been wondering for a while now, and I hope it's not too insensitive to ask, but what happened during those last few days with Ymir, and the whole situation with Floch and Eren? We've seen wanted posters for Reiner and Annie, but nothing about Ymir."
Historia was taken aback by the question, her brows furrowing in thought. The unease in the room was palpable, and it was Connie who finally broke the silence. "Well... Ymir turned out to be a titan, like Eren. Initially, we thought she and Floch were enemies of humanity, but that night when she helped us capture Bertholdt and fight the others we quickly learned otherwise. Now, she's out there somewhere, hiding away. And command wants to keep that under wraps, they've made that very clear."
"Do you think we'll ever see her again?" Mylius inquired.
Connie shrugged, uncertain. "Who knows?"
Mina continued her inquiries, "Is Floch also a titan too? They don't seem to let either him or Eren speak to us much. They're always off doing who knows what."
Gordon's jaw tightened, and Armin spoke up, "No, I don't think so. But Floch appears to possess extensive knowledge about the titans, so I assume they're keeping him around for that reason." The blond boy appeared to have something on his mind, but refrained from speaking it outloud.
Mylius turned his attention to Historia. "I suppose you didn't know about all of this until recently either, did you Krista?"
She shook her head. "No, I didn't. I'm just as much in the dark as the rest of you. What Ymir does now is entirely up to her."
"Ahh, good! You finished this quicker than expected!"
A voice chimed from behind, interrupting their post-task rest. All the recruits spun around to find a Scout officer, Marlene, approaching them. They swiftly rose to their feet, saluting her as she surveyed the organized storage room. A satisfied hum escaped her lips before she refocused on the recruits.
"Good work, recruits. You've earned your rest, you can return to your barracks." Marlene instructed, and the recruits saluted in unison before making their way out.
However, Marlene's gaze fell upon Historia, singling her out from the group. "Not you, Private Lenz," she said firmly. "Commander Erwin has requested your presence in his office."
The others exchanged worried glances, their curiosity piqued. Historia herself appeared surprised, but she quickly snapped out of her daze and offered them a reassuring nod. She acknowledged Marlene with a respectful nod and then departed from the group, heading towards Commander Erwin's office. She already had a suspicion about the nature of the impending discussion.
Whatever she thought she was expecting by coming here, this wasn't it at all!
She shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, surrounded by Commander Erwin and his senior officers. Eren and Floch stood nearby, looking less rugged than the last time she had seen them. The dozen soldiers in the room all fixed their gaze on her, their expressions revealing that they were privy to something she wasn't.
Commander Erwin took the lead, his tone measured. "I apologize for putting you in this situation, Krista. However, as you may have guessed, we are currently facing urgent circumstances," he began, and Historia focused solely on his words, ignoring the rest of the room.
"I may have a hunch what this might be about," she admitted, capturing his attention. "If you're seeking my help in locating Ymir or learning her intentions, I must confess I wasn't as intimately involved in her plans as others might have been." She glanced briefly at Floch, who remained impassive.
"No," Erwin declared, his tone firm, brushing aside any doubt. "We've long since deduced and dismissed that possibility. I've summoned you here for an entirely different matter, though you could say both topics are strongly connected." Historia grappled with growing bewilderment. He continued, dispelling any ambiguity. "Let's not engage in any redundancy. It's best we confront this matter head-on. We've recently become privy to the intricacies of your past."
Historia's world seemed to crumble around her as Commander Erwin's words washed over her. She felt an icy wave of dread sweep through her veins, her body tensing as her eyes widened in shock. Panic gripped her, and her gaze darted frantically around the room, her forehead growing damp with sweat as her breath quickened. What did they know? How did they find out? Had they uncovered her fake name, her false persona, her family's history? This was a nightmare, and she no longer felt safe. If they discovered this, the consequences would be dire, she would...she'd... die.
Yeah, she'd die.
In the midst of her rising panic, a switch flipped inside her. She went unnaturally still, her eyes dimming with resignation. "H-how?" she managed to stammer weakly, her voice barely audible. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Floch's subtle frown, and a realization dawned upon her. He had to be the one who had divulged this information. He always seemed to possess more knowledge than he let on. Their conversation from a couple of years ago now made disturbing sense, just who is this bastard?!
Before she could react further, Erwin stepped closer, blocking her view. He crouched down before her and gently placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his expression filled with understanding."We are fully aware of the gravity of your situation, Krista, assuming that is indeed your true name," Commander Erwin began, his tone unwavering. "You'll find nothing but allies here. Regardless of how far the government's influence may extend, the Survey Corps remains less compromised than the rest of the military. Every individual in this room has earned my complete trust and is willing to lay down their life to protect you if it comes to that. All we seek in return is your cooperation, which will help us gain a better understanding of the situation we find ourselves in, for your sake as well as ours."
Historia's anxiety refused to abate, her features still marred by a deep frown as Erwin compelled her to focus solely on him.
"I understand that this is difficult," Hange added from the side, her voice soothing. "But please, have faith in us. We only desire what is in everyone's best interest. You have our word. Take your time, and remember to breathe, in the end, the choice remains yours if you wish to cooperate."
As her tension slowly subsided, Historia couldn't help but cast a scathing glance in Floch's direction. "Was he the one who told you?" Floch nodded at that, Historia demanded answers. "Who are you?" Her question hung in the air, prompting a few curious glances to shift toward him. Floch remained composed, meeting her inquiry with a measured response.
"Just someone looking out for you, I suppose." His response did little to alleviate her concerns, leaving her apprehensions largely intact.
"What do you all want from me? If you already know everything?" She asked turning back to the commander.
"We want your side of the story, from the beginning if that's alright with you." Erwin replied.
Historia hesitated, her gaze sweeping over the room as uncertainty lingered in her eyes. She cast a resigned look at her own thigh, her breath escaping in a soft sigh. With clenched hands and a determined resolve, she began to share the painful details of her upbringing, recounting the days on the farm where she endured rocks hurled her direction and her desperate attempts to connect with her mother. She painted a vivid picture of the day she was forcibly removed from her home, witnessing the horrifying sight of men in black surrounding her and her parents before slitting her mother's throat before her very eyes. The rest, they all already knew about.
Levi's expression shifted to alarm at this, normally he'd dismiss such a thing, but with the parties involved, it wouldn't be impossible. Hange stepped forward, sensing something was amiss with his reaction.
"Got something on your mind, Levi?" Hange inquired.
"Besides my gag reflex? Just take a few steps back, shit breath." He snarked before he shook his head and added, "It's nothing. Continue with your pity party."
Erwin nodded and turned his attention back to Historia. "There's no easy way to broach this, but we've recently uncovered damning information about the interior. We've concluded that immediate action is necessary for the sake of all humanity within the walls. Tonight marks the beginning of a revolution, and it all starts with you." Historia's eyes widened slightly at this revelation. "For now, I'll spare you the details and allow you some time to collect yourself, as I believe Floch would be more than willing to provide a thorough briefing later. But, Krista, what I'm asking of you is your cooperation. When the day comes that we overthrow the current government, given your status as an heir to the throne, I would like you to step forward as the next ruler of this kingdom."
His words hung in the air, and for a while Historia couldn't believe what she just heard.
Her father's the king? And her? The next Queen?
Erwin concluded the meeting to give her some breathing room, signaling that they would adjourn for the night and resume discussions at a later time, before asking Eren to stay behind. With that, all the officers began to rise one by one, making their way out of the office. Historia hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering, until Floch entered her field of vision and extended a hand toward her. She contemplated his offered hand briefly before choosing to stand on her own. Ignoring him, she shakily walked behind the other officers, her footsteps echoing in the corridor.
It wasn't long before she noticed the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Suspicion prickled at the back of her mind, and she glanced over her shoulder to find Floch trailing her. Her rage welled up at the sight of him, and she stopped, turning to face him with eyes filled with hatred and disdain.
"What else do you want from me?" she sneered at him. He stood there with a cold indifference, watching her every move carefully.
"We have a lot to talk about, figured I'd speed things up and get it over with tonight, I owe you that much at least." Floch stated calmly.
"Like hell I'd agree to that! I want no part in this, let alone being trapped in a room with you," Historia shot back venomously.
She moved to leave, but Floch swiftly grasped her wrist, preventing her escape. She yanked her arm away from his grip. "Stop being difficult, just come with me and everything will make sense."
"Difficult?!" she exclaimed and jabbed her finger into his chest with seething anger, her voice dripping with contempt. "You waltz into my life, drive away the only person I had by my side, and expose the one thing I wanted to keep hidden from the world—all behind my back! You're a menace, a walking disaster! If I hear one more word out of your mouth, I might just vomit! If I had one wish, it would have been to see you swallowed by a titan!"
Floch appeared unimpressed by her outburst. "Are you finished?" he asked coolly.
She frowned, her anger unabated. "No, I'm not."
Before he could respond, she delivered a swift, harsh kick between his legs. Floch's eyes bulged in pain, and he doubled over, falling to the ground with a groan as he clutched his groin in agony. He struggled to breathe, pain intensifying as he heard her footsteps gradually fade away. "Now I'm finished," she declared, her voice resolute. Floch scowled as he forced himself off the ground, nearly tripping over his feet.
He caught her off guard once more, swiftly pressing her against the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he grappled with the agony she'd inflicted upon him. One eye squinted in pain, his hand secured on her shoulder, the other clamped against her thigh, thwarting any attempt at retaliation. "I... I... Believe me when I say this, but I'm being... incredibly... generous... by providing the answers... you so... desperately sought... about Ymir, you wanted to... hear it for so long... didn't... you?"
She yearned to remark about his hand placement, but as he spoke, she temporarily withheld judgment, part of her secretly applauding his determination. "Release me!" She spat out, pushing against his chest, only for him to seize both her wrists, pressing them firmly to the wall with a single hand.
"If only you'd... cease your stubbornness, He's gonna... pay for this... that... I promise." he wheezed, still grimacing in pain.
"I've already told you I want nothing to do with this! I couldn't care less! Just let me go!"
"No... I won't, because... you're vital... to everything we've... got planned." Her eyes narrowed dangerously at this, an audible growl escaping her lips.
"I'm not your fucking puppet to order around." She hissed.
"That's the message... I've been trying... to convey... before you... you..." He appeared on the verge of tears before shaking his head. "I'll reveal everything... but not here... we can't risk... prying ears... and he'll be waiting for us... If you pull that stunt again... I'll cram my boot... down your throat... and haul you... away from here."
Historia began to retort when they both heard footsteps approaching from around the corner. In no time, Sandra and Ruth walked in on the scene. Time seemed to halt as both girls froze in disbelief, their gazes locked in astonishment. Before them stood Krista and Floch, equally disheveled. His hand restrained the blonde's wrists against the wall, the other pressed firmly on her thigh, both dangerously close.
Ruth's mouth opened and closed several times, her eyes wide, while the two culprits looked mortified at being caught in such a compromising situation. Floch immediately released the blonde and began to explain, but before he could utter a word, Sandra seized Ruth and hastily fled the scene. Floch stared in disbelief for a few moments before turning to face Historia, only to collapse to the floor once more, writhing in agony.
Not trusting that he would remain down, Historia bolted from the scene, only to collide with someone, sending her sprawling to the ground. She looked up to see Eren standing before her. For a brief moment, he seemed oblivious to her presence and Floch's plight behind her, but then he snapped back to reality.
"What was that?" He muttered under his breath as he inspected his hand, before blinking in surprise at the scene unfolding before him.
"What's happening here?" he asked as Historia got to her feet.
"This asshole just doesn't know when to quit. I told him I didn't want to talk, but he kept pushing it," Historia explained, her annoyance evident. She saw Eren wince.
"Oh."
Historia blinked in confusion. "Oh?"
Eren scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I kind of... kept pestering him to get you to come with us so we could talk. I was the one who wanted you here... Sorry."
Historia's demeanor softened as she gazed at Eren in awe, her mouth slightly agape. She then turned her attention to the redhead behind her, who was now on his knees, his face pressed against the floor, and his hands gripping his groin. Guilt washed over her, and she rushed to his side. "Oh my god, I'm... I'm sorry! Well, you kind of had it coming, but... I am sorry!" she exclaimed frantically as she knelt beside him and placed a comforting hand on his back.
Eren approached them, his expression concerned. "Uh, Floch? Are you okay there?"
Several moments passed without a response, but both could hear a noise that suspiciously resembled sobbing.
"Are you... crying?"
Floch Forster doesn't cry.
Day 19
"Karoline, I'm home!"
Louise perked up, her attention shifting from the kitchen table as she turned to greet Floch's father. He offered a warm smile and playfully tousled her hair before taking a seat beside her.
Her gaze fell upon the peculiar letter still in his grasp, and he seemed to notice her curiosity. "Ah, this," he began, "I regret to say I couldn't deliver it."
His wife, busy at the kitchen counter, chimed in, "Are the offices still swamped with work?"
Waldemar sighed, acknowledging the challenge. "Oh yes, dear. Still too overwhelmed with requests, and the situation with the smoke isn't making things any easier. They say many folks up in the west had to abandon their villages until the skies clear."
Louise couldn't help but keep her eyes on the mysterious letter as Floch's mother joined them, equally intrigued. "Do you think it would be prudent to read the contents of that letter?"
Her husband hesitated, a furrow forming on his brow. "Well, she did entrust us with it, and it's intended for Floch."
However, his wife didn't appear entirely convinced. "Waldemar, every word that came out of that girl's mouth only raised my concerns higher. We didn't even learn her name, and you expect me to believe she has good intentions toward our son?"
Waldemar faltered, his hand hovering over the letter. "I... you do have a valid point." After a brief moment of uncertainty, he made a decision. "Ah, to hell with it, might as well."
Louise leaned in closer, anticipation building, as he opened the letter and began to read its contents aloud.
Stohess was deceptively warm and inviting at first glance.
The upper class denizens of Stohess, exuded an air of pretentiousness and snobbery, their faces often adorned with masks of superiority. The city's outskirts were neglected and overshadowed by the opulence of the downtown area where the Military Police prefered to operate. Amid narrow alleyways and squalor, a handful of quaint shops beckoned with merchandise that remained elusive within the inner districts. The shadowy alleyways played host to a motley crew of inebriated lowlifes and brutish thugs.
Veiled in a concealing cloak, Ymir came to an abrupt halt outside a tavern, The Pit Lidors. She slipped inside, her eyes falling upon the sight of a bartender engrossed in a book behind the counter. On the far-left side, three men sat engrossed in their drinks and a card game, a suspicious leather pouch, replete with enigmatic pills, spilled across the table between them. Ymir's gaze continued to scan the room until it landed upon two other cloaked figures seated on the opposite side, one of them, a male, offering a subtle gesture in her direction.
Without breaking her stride, Ymir ambled over, the bartender seemingly disinterested in her arrival, as she chose a seat across from the two concealed figures. She nonchalantly pulled back her hood.
Reiner, his voice measured, broke the silence. "You're very early. I'm pleased to see you've made the right choice, Ymir."
Ymir, her eyes flickering with a blend of skepticism and curiosity, replied, "We'll see about that. But I must admit, hiding beneath cloaks in a place like this all day seems rather counterintuitive."
Annie, taking a leisurely sip of limeade, gently set the bottle aside. "Establishments of this nature seldom pry into the affairs of paying customers. As long as we uphold that rule, they'll graciously look the other way and mind their own business. However, this secrecy isn't solely about evading patrols. People around these streets tend to be desperate, scraping together meager coin to fuel their illicit hobbies. Hence, they keep a watchful eye out for any potential bounties or the like."
True to Annie's words, Ymir cast a discreet glance around the tavern, spotting wanted posters adorning the wall beside the counter, and the men across the room surreptitiously observing them from the corners of their eyes. "I see."
Reiner cleared his throat, the tone businesslike. "Let's dispense with formalities. If you're here with us, then I assume you've already made contact with Forster? How did that go?"
"No, actually, I haven't."
Both shifters tilted their heads, their curiosity piqued by Ymir's unexpected answer. "I did attempt to make contact with Floch, but encountered a few... hiccups along the way. Let's leave it at that. I'm here now, ready to hear whatever bullshit you've got planned. But before we dive into your scheming, I have one burning question. How do you plan to make this arrangement work when there is barely any trust on both sides?"
Reiner shook his head, his gaze unwavering. "No, we can afford to trust you. You see, you and I share common ground in Krista." Ymir bit back her retort, her narrowed gaze fixed on him. "It may surprise you, but I'm just as invested in Krista's well-being as you are. And for that reason alone, it's not difficult to imagine us working together to achieve a common goal."
A wry smile played on Ymir's lips as she leaned in, her voice tinged with skepticism. "Seems like everyone's eager to use Krista as leverage against me. But what makes you think I care about her enough to jeopardize my own life? Let's say I do cooperate with you. You get Bertholdt back, maybe even Eren if you're lucky, Krista and I escape this place, but in doing so, my life is on the line. Not only that, but Krista has nothing to offer your superiors on the other side."
Reiner slammed his fist lightly against the table, determination burning in his eyes. "We can find a solution. While it's true that your fate might be sealed, we can negotiate for Krista's safety and find her a secure refuge. And I believe you're not so selfish as to abandon her."
Amusement danced in Ymir's eyes as she fixed her gaze on Reiner. "You're free to believe whatever, but don't act like you know me. It is intriguing however. Since when do you care so much about a bunch of Island devils? Your words and demeanor seem genuine, yet you were the one who brought down that gate and caused the deaths of thousands all those years ago were you not?"
Annie, her voice sharp and accusatory, chimed in as well, leveling a scathing glare at Reiner. "Yeah, we'd all like to hear your explanation."
Reiner faltered, his gaze dropping to the table. "I... I just..."
Ymir's smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief, as she leaned back in her chair. "I think I've got the puzzle pieces sorted out here. Ever since Floch spilled the beans about your true identity, I couldn't help but find it all rather strange. Why would the man responsible for breaching the walls go to such lengths to befriend his enemies? I heard you risked your life to save Hannah that day, while she was too consumed by grief in the middle of the street over Franz's death. I also suspect you were the ones behind the Armory incident. So, why all this, if your ultimate plan was to blow her and the others to smithereens? You're a walking contradiction, and you remain blissfully unaware of it, even now."
Ymir keenly observed the way Reiner tensed at the mere mention of Hannah's name. "Ah, that name seems to have hit a nerve. Could it be that somewhere along the way, the pressure became too much to bear? You found yourself drowning in the guilt of all that blood on your hands, so you fashioned this persona that aligned with the Islanders, a lifeline to grasp onto some semblance of sanity. But it backfired, didn't it? Now you teeter on the edge of this dual existence, unable to distinguish which one is the real you."
Reiner's fist clenched, his features contorted with fury.
"Just how many times has this been occuring in the last few years? Surely, Annie and Bertholdt noticed it by now. So, tell me, Reiner, when you speak of protecting Krista, which Reiner am I talking to? The genuine one, the warrior haunted by the guilt from his actions, or the Reiner from this fractured fantasy your split mind has concocted, the one so helplessly worried about damsels like Krista and Hannah—"
"Shut up! Just shut your damn mouth." Reiner's teeth ground together as he hissed at her discretely.
Ymir was momentarily taken aback before her grin returned, her voice laced with playful mockery. "Sore subject, huh? Let's not pry into it then."
"Your observations put a lot things into perspective just now." Annie's tone turned cold, her glare directed at the side of Reiner's face before softening slightly. "However, you weren't entirely accurate. Reiner's behavior wasn't a problem on the day of the breach. He was every bit the warrior then." Reiner's brow furrowed, and he shifted uncomfortably. Annie continued, her voice tinged with a haunting solemnity. "When we were preparing to sabotage the armory, Hannah unexpectedly walked in, and we had to hide. Reiner insisted we stay in the shadows while he watched as she attempted to hang herself." Ymir's eyes widened in shock.
"Mind you, she's obviously alive today, thanks to Forster. He came in, cut her down, and talked her out of it." Ymir couldn't help but let out a snort of amusement.
"Typical, always playing the bleeding heart—"
"—By convincing her to shoot herself in the head. It would have worked had the gun been loaded."
Ymir fell into silent shock, processing this chilling revelation. She knew he was no saint, but she hadn't expected he could be this ruthless and cold-hearted.
"Which is why I caution you not to place too much trust in him, do you believe someone capable of manipulating lives so effortlessly, without a hint of remorse, can be relied upon? It's ironic, isn't it? We're hardly in a position to pass judgment, but at least we offer a more promising alternative in the grand scheme of things. It does make me wonder why you didn't notice it sooner, given your keen perception of Reiner."
Annie's words left Ymir searching for a response, her brow furrowing in thought. Finally, she spoke, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I...," she began, her gaze dropping to the table, fingers clutching her pants tightly. "It's not that I didn't notice; I couldn't. I could never decipher his thoughts. The rare times I thought I had a glimpse into his mind, it always felt like something crucial was missing."
Ymir lifted her eyes to meet theirs. "Whenever I look into his eyes, it's as if there's nothing there beyond what he wants me to see." she confessed.
A moment later, Reiner cleared his throat, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand. "Let's refocus, considering what's been said. Rest assured, as long as you collaborate with us, trust won't pose a problem. Now, I'd like to know about a few things. What's your understanding of the world beyond these walls and your own abilities?"
Ymir shifted her attention to him, her demeanor returning to an impassive facade. "Regarding the outside world, my knowledge is limited, given my decades as a mindless titan. As for my own powers, I've been aware of them since that day, but I've never been entirely certain of how they worked."
This revelation piqued the curiosity of both warriors. "How so? You exhibited remarkable control, even understanding your limitations during our fight," Annie noted.
Ymir shook her head. "No, that was all thanks to him. I didn't even know that stamina and injuries had a direct correlation to being able to transform, let alone any details about your identities or your titan forms."
Annie's mind buzzed with inquiries. "Hold on, you're telling us that Forster taught you everything? Dismembering Bertholdt that night was his idea as well? Not only that, but he already knew who we were beforehand as well as everything that concerns our powers and the outside world yet you were olbivious to it all, not even knowing what a warrior is? Just who is he exactly?" She stressed the last question.
Ymir smiled lightly. "Trust me, I've been trying to find an answer to that myself."
As Reiner opened his mouth to speak, his words halted abruptly. His gaze darted toward the tavern's entrance, where two familiar military police officers had just entered, their presence eliciting a sudden widening of his eyes. Jean and Marco carefully scanned the room, alert for any signs of suspicious activity. As they approached the bartender, Reiner couldn't help but notice the two next to him had also taken notice of their arrival, both mirroring a heightened sense of alarm.
After a moment, Jean turned his attention to them and squinted suspiciously at the back of Ymir's head, a faint sense of recognition tugging at his mind. Marco, on the other hand, veered off to engage with the men on the left.
Jean approached the trio, he positioned himself directly behind Ymir. "Excuse me, I'm with the Stohess district Military police. Have any you seen this woman?" he began, extending a paper towards them. Reiner covertly glanced at the paper, careful not to reveal his face. He then glanced to his left and noticed Annie discreetly wearing her ring beneath the table.
Observing that none of them had reacted to his words, Jean's frustration began to surface. "Hey, it's impolite to ignore me like this. I just told you I'm an officer."
Suspicion etched across his features, Jean gradually raised his hand toward Ymir's shoulder. "Hey, I'm talking to you."
Reiner caught the faint sound of the ring's mechanism activating.
"To Join The Military Police Brigade And Devote Myself To The King, Sir!" - Marco Bott, 847 AD, in response to instructor Keith Shadis during the first day of boot camp.
"By the way, why did you join the Military Police?"
"Why do you ask, sir?"
"The two of you strike me as an odd bunch, much different to the kind of offficers I'm used to dealing with."
"We joined... Because we wanted to live safely within the walls and serve at the king's side."
In that room, it was painfully evident to everyone that Marco's words were far from the truth; he himself couldn't muster belief in them. Initially, his aspirations had been nothing more than a desire to escape the brutal frontlines and find his way to the capital. However, everything had shifted dramatically during their years in boot camp and in the aftermath of Trost's breach. At that point, he had made a firm decision to stand beside Eren in the Survey Corps, just like all the others he had convinced to pledge their hearts to humanity's cause.
But reality didn't align with those intentions.
A part of him couldn't bear to leave Jean behind, and this sentiment had led him to remain loyal to him until they both achieved their initial ambitions. However, every step of that journey had left a bitter taste in their mouths. Marco could see the remorse etched in Jean's gaze, slowly consuming him from within, but Jean kept his torment locked away. It was then that Marco made a silent vow to stand by him to the very end; reversing the corruption within their branch was a mere bonus.
Now, they found themselves back at Headquarters, attempting to unravel a perplexing puzzle. Jean perched on the library counter, while Marco leaned against it. On the other side, Marlowe Freundenberg diligently cataloged books. Marco continually reviewed the notes he had taken from their interrogation, scratching his head as he sought to extract any valuable insights, all the while Jean engaged in conversation with Marlowe.
"The Marlene company used to operate by purchasing goods in bulk within Wall Maria and then transporting them to Wall Sina to capitalize on the regional price disparities," Marlowe elaborated.
"Sounds like standard practice for a merchant company," Jean remarked.
Marlowe nodded. "It was, until the fall of Shiganshina, which dashed any hopes of further expansion. These days, they've downsized and are merely running a horse-drawn coach business."
Jean pondered this for a moment. "Well, that clears things up. Thanks for the info, Marlowe," he said, and Marlowe acknowledged with a nod. "What about you? Did they dump more work on you too?"
Marlowe seemed offended by that. "As if! I'm doing this on my own. Don't lump me in with the rest of those degenerates. This library's in terrible shape; it desperately needs cataloging." Jean hesitated for a moment before Marco handed a book to Marlowe.
"It's good to see someone in this branch who values hard work and integrity," Marco chimed in. Marlowe looked momentarily surprised before verifying the book's category and offering a grateful nod. The two boys then took their leave.
"So, learn anything good?" Jean inquired as they walked, his hands interlocked behind his head.
"Not much. None of it adds up," Marco replied, frustration evident as he reviewed his notebook. "The company seems to be falling apart, but everything at their mansion suggests otherwise, all those paintings looked recent, not to mention the jewelry he wore. Carly has a chemistry degree and could easily find work, yet she doesn't. Moreover, her father seems indifferent and spends his days drinking and smoking expensive cigarettes."
"What a strange family. And here I thought my mother was annoying. I couldn't fathom living together for so long without knowing a thing about each other," Jean sighed. "So he says there are no demands yet, so she's not kidnapped. Which brings me to the point I brought up earlier today about daddy issues... but that's not it either, is it? From the way he spoke the two don't fight much, and he didn't bring up the loss of any assets so that eliminates her running off into the night with daddy's money."
Marco eyes widened at those last few words as he read over the notes. "We agreed to not meddle in eachother's affairs, once he had our dinner she's free to gallivant all night."
"That's it, you genius!" Marco shouted out loud, startling Jean and causing a few MP's to stare at them.
"What?" Jean looked puzzled.
"Jean!"
The boy in question turned around, his eyes widening as he spotted Marco engaged in a brawl against three men. In that moment, the mysterious trio became an afterthought as he rushed in to offer assistance.
Marco deftly retreated two steps, narrowly avoiding the swinging fists of the taller man in front of him. Punishing him for extending so much, he executed a swift combination of kicks that left his opponent wincing in pain from a strike to the thigh and doubled over from a blow to the stomach. The last thing the man saw was Jean's fist descending from the side, rendering him unconscious.
With one down, the remaining two attackers closed in. Marco grappled with the taller man, while Jean effortlessly handled the older, balding individual, forcefully slamming him against a nearby table, shattering it in the process. Observing this, Marco jabbed his elbow into the remaining assailant and pushed him into Jean's grasp, where Jean swiftly rendered him unconscious by choking.
Both of them stood amidst the aftermath, panting from their exertions, surveying the fallen men they had subdued. Marco approached Jean, patting him on the shoulder. Jean looked up to see the boy offering him a warm smile and a thumbs-up. "Good work, partner."
Jean mirrored the sentiment with a grin. "Right on."
"Excuse me."
Their triumphant moment was abruptly interrupted when the bartender, previously unnoticed, addressed them from behind the counter. He stared at them with an expectant expression, closing his book and pointing towards the wreckage. "I hope you both plan on settling the bill for the damage."
Marco and Jean froze, their faces registering sheepish guilt. Marco offered an apologetic grin. "We're truly sorry for all the trouble. We'll make sure to cover the expenses."
Jean regained his composure, his thoughts turning back to the mysterious trio from earlier. His eyes narrowed as he noticed that they had managed to slip away amidst the chaos. Frustration welled up within him. Who were they? Could one of them have been Carly? Had they potentially lost their only lead?
He straightened up and glanced back at the subdued men, recognizing Marco's intent to interrogate them. With a resigned sigh, he joined in, helping to rouse the men for questioning.
Why were they doing this again?
Oh right, for Floch.
