ABOUT
Post-Expedition to Shiganshina and the retake of Wall Maria (CU/AU); in which ㅡ
Eren Jaeger already mastered his titan form's hardening ability,
Dead Survey Corps members and canonical characters are still dead,
Historia Reiss is queen,
& Levi Ackerman and the eight remaining Survey Corps survivors finally went to the ocean.
WARNINGS
Contains spoilers
Reincarnation
Swearing (which is a normal thing because Levi, you know)
DISCLAIMER
All canonical characters and references of Shingeki no Kyojin are owned by Isayama Hajime.
01 | The Alternate World
"Good morning, Captain!"
Petra greeted with the same enthusiasm as she did so every day. It had become a part of her routine, a small moment she never skipped before heading off to work. Even though she had no real reason to stop, she couldn't help herself. She always liked these little moments with him.
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she smiled softly at him. "I hope I see you again tonight," she added, her voice barely more than a whisper. "It feels so real being with you there."
Before she could say another hopeful wish, a sharp knock at the door broke the moment.
"Petra, we're gonna be late!" came the voice from the other side.
"Five more seconds, Nifa!" Petra called back, glancing at the door. She turned back to him, her smile fading a little. "I gotta go, Captain. Don't worry, I'll keep it together today."
She chuckled sheepishly, feeling a bit embarrassed by her own words. Giving a quick salute to the wall as if he were still standing there, she rushed out of the room.
In the living room, Nifa was already waiting by the double doors, tapping her foot impatiently.
"Come on, we're going to be late," Nifa said, waving her hand to hurry Petra along.
"Alright, alright," Petra replied, grabbing her bag and keys.
They double-checked the doors and windows as they left—old habits die hard, especially after last month when three men had broken into the house. It had left a mark on both of them, a lingering paranoia about thieves. This incident was the reason why Petra became acquaintances with the officers at the nearby police station.
Once satisfied everything was locked up tight, they made their way down the long corridor, carefully stepping down the stairs and heading toward the back of the house where their cars were parked, near the garden.
The apartment was an old manor, owned by a retired couple who had long since moved away from the capital. The couple preferred tenants over letting the place fall into disrepair, so Petra and Nifa paid only for utilities. At first, they'd hesitated to take the place, but the offer being their last resort, they'd finally decided to make the leap. Petra had taken only three days to feel at home, and eventually, she came to realize the apartment was a rare gem—one of the last survivors of the great war.
"So, are you talking to your military painting boyfriend again?" Nifa asked, her expression half-irritated, half-amused.
Petra chuckled, the smile never leaving her face. "Always."
Nifa rolled her eyes. "Isn't he a bit stiff to talk to?"
"He is," Petra replied, still in good spirits, "but it doesn't matter. He never complains about my stories."
As they approached the garage, Petra absentmindedly twirled her car keys on her finger.
Nifa snorted. "Of course he doesn't. Try taking the glass off his frame; maybe you'll hear him speak then."
"Maybe," Petra said with a grin. "But that doesn't bother me. Besides, he listens. He always listens."
Nifa shot her a sideways glance as she unlocked her own car. "Three years, Petra. I think it's time to face the facts. You need professional help."
Petra paused, looking at her friend in surprise. "What? Why?"
Nifa raised an eyebrow, a playful grin spreading across her face. "Because, girl, you're way too attached to a painting."
Petra laughed, "Hey!"
Nifa just shook her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess," she said, sliding into her car. "But seriously, I'll see you at my office later. We'll talk about this delusion of yours."
Petra laughed again, shaking her head as she slid into her own car. Nifa had never been outright against her admiration for the painting—she just found it *weird* that a young woman with so much going for her would spend so much time obsessing over a portrait. Three years of living together, and though she didn't get it, Nifa had long since accepted it. If it made Petra happy, then... well, she'd just let it be.
"Floch, have you seen Major Hanji?" Eren asked casually, spotting his comrade down the corridor. He stopped just behind Floch, glancing quickly out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her outside the headquarters.
Floch turned to face him. "I haven't seen her since this morning either."
Eren frowned, his green eyes searching Floch's face for any hint of more information. "What about Captain Levi?"
"I saw him cleaning his old squad's barracks earlier, but he's not around this afternoon, either," Floch replied with a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.
"I see." Eren's face fell, disappointment creeping in.
"Why are you looking for them, Eren?" Floch asked, his tone a little suspicious.
Eren shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I just... need to tell them something important."
"Uh-huh." Floch gave him a long look before slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Alright, well, good luck with that." Then, without another word, he walked off down the corridor.
Eren let out a quiet sigh and leaned back against the wall, his mind spinning with thoughts he couldn't share with Armin or Mikasa. There were things he needed to say, things he wasn't sure how to say. He thought about reporting it to his superiors, but—strangely—they were both missing. It was unusual. The longer he stood there, the more uneasy he felt.
Just then, a burst of laughter from outside caught his attention. It was Sasha and Connie, laughing at something, probably teasing Jean. The sound made Eren smile for a brief moment. Maybe he could join them and forget about everything for a while.
But before he could make his way toward the exit, the sharp sound of something crashing from across the building shattered the moment. It came from Hanji's laboratory. Eren's heart skipped a beat. That wasn't normal.
His feet moved on their own, urgency in his steps as he quickly headed toward the source of the noise.
"Shit."
Levi muttered under his breath as he suddenly crashed into what felt like a hard, invisible wall. The impact sent him tumbling, and the shards of glass that scattered across the floor sliced at his arms when he instinctively raised them to protect his face. He landed with a thud on something soft, something far more comfortable than the barracks' hard beds. It took him a moment to realize he had fallen onto a bed, far bigger and more cushioned than anything he'd ever slept on.
His hand brushed against a soft, plush surface as he pushed himself up. Behind him, there was a framed painting on the wall, and he immediately recognized the broken glass as coming from the frame. As his mind started to process what had happened, a sickening realization hit him: the thin, transparent wall he'd crashed into... was a *glass frame*. He stared at the painting again, noticing something was off—there was a perspective missing. It wasn't quite right.
And then it hit him like a punch to the gut. His mind flashed back to something strange, something he couldn't quite explain—he had come *out* of that painting. But how?
He cursed again.
Looking around, he realized something else—he could see himself clearly in the mirror across the room. A large, wide mirror. He didn't remember seeing one of those back at the barracks. On top of a nearby cabinet were bottles and jars—cosmetics, the kind he had often seen in the female soldiers' barracks, but not in Hanji's (who didn't care for such things). His eyes lingered on the items for a moment, a fleeting thought of someone crossing his mind, before he shifted his gaze to a small picture frame hanging on the wall.
Walking over to it, he squinted at the photo. The two people in it were grinning, posing cheerfully. Levi's stomach churned. It didn't make sense.
"*Where the hell am I?*" he muttered, the question hanging in the air as panic rose in his chest. "*If this is Eldia or Marley, I swear to god, I'm going to kick their damn asses.*"
He continued scanning the room. There were papers stacked on a small table near the bed, an empty coffee mug sitting beside them. As he stepped closer to investigate, something on top of the pile caught his eye—a small, thin, rectangular object. Before he could reach for it, the object made a strange noise.
He froze.
It didn't look like any weapon or device he was familiar with. He instinctively stepped back, his body tense and ready for combat—no 3D Maneuver Gear, but his hands would have to do if things got violent. He watched the object for a few seconds. It made a strange buzzing sound, then suddenly, an image appeared on the surface. Something was written on it, but the letters were entirely foreign. It wasn't the script he recognized.
The face on the screen, however, was all too familiar.
"*What the hell is that thing?*" he muttered, his eyes narrowing. He wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or someone else, but the strange object was definitely not something he understood. He watched it from a distance, every muscle in his body primed for action.
A few more seconds passed, and the odd sound stopped. The image on the screen faded to black. Levi exhaled slowly, his nerves still on edge. He glanced back at the painting on the wall, his mind racing.
"I need to get back." He muttered as he took a step toward the painting.
Where was he? How had he gotten here? And most importantly—how the hell was he going to get back to his world?