"Oi, ugly." Levi referred to Ymir while grabbing Gunther by his collar. "You can take bullets, can't you?"

"Yeah." Ymir replied, unpocketing her hands. "Want me to bite them motherfuckers once you throw him out?"

"Good," Levi said, "You follow."

Then Levi threw Gunther's body far from the hearse, drawing the enemies' gunshots to Gunther and giving away the enemy positions. And once they were almost out of bullets, Ymir emerged as the Jaw titan, killing the enemies one by one, with thunder clapping her every step.

"NOW!" Levi shouted, his frantic footsteps turned wheezing from his gear. You hardly saw his back before his ghostly apparition appeared from one place to another, so fast your eyes could not keep up.

So this is Levi, the soldier. You've never seen him in a fight before and now that you have…

"Come on!" Petra called from your shoulder, but you couldn't bear to take your eyes off the sight of your captain, the amazement still at your lips as you watched him acrobat in the air. He was a wading hurricane in the midsea of bullets. A whirlwind who moved with such recklessness and precision to kill. The bullets didn't hit him; he commanded them, and Levi commanded with pure resolve.

Murder. That was when it hit you. Murder was what Levi was doing. There was no going around it; with his blades, he murdered people without much of a blink. No hesitation, he let the explanation be at the edge of his blade. It was the very thing you swore to never do, or never cause. Your legs felt like a different person's. They didn't move or listen to your orders. Instead, they quaked. You admired him, but this weakness in your leg, were you scared of him? Seeing first hand what he was capable of doing, or the lengths he would go through just to just to get what he wanted, were you terrified of the man?

You inhaled sulfur air, the residue of gunpowder everywhere. You didn't know what to do, but you knew you needed to start somewhere. You forced yourself to stand, and you found strength by gritting your teeth. Your tongue tasted metallic copper, and your knuckles paled digging in the wooden grip of your rifle.

You needed to move.

You bolted to where the hearse was, nearly tripping on its elaborately ornamental wooden sides. You flicked the locks on the edges of the hearse to free the coffins, using the butt of your rifle as a lever to slide the coffins down to the ground. When it tumbled and turned turtle, Reeves' panic-stricken screams only got louder that even their respective coffins couldn't contain.

Petra gave it a few kicks before she surrendered to use the rifle on the padlock, making sure to avoid their crucial, mortal parts. You followed her example on the other coffin and indeed, Dimo Reeves and his son Flegel, were so terrified, they crawled their way out. No one seemed injured. One thing to be thankful for, at least.

"Th-They took them—" Dimo Reeves coughed, his throat begged for air.

"Go— go!" You ducked his head low to the ground, making sure they kept it that way until they vanished inside the tunnel.

And then the overwhelming noise of gunshots registered again.

Gunshots. Gunshots— small, yet deafening, round of explosives. Ripping flesh followed by screaming— that raw, throat-splintering screams of agony and your eyes began to moisten. When would this end? You wanted to cower inside the tunnel— escape with Reeves and just give up. Maybe a cell would be safer and quieter. Occasional torture would be much more predictable. The pain would not take you by surprise. You'd get used to it, and that was reassurance on its own. There would be times when they would leave you alone with your thoughts and maybe with silence, you would find some semblance of peace.

Moments like that would be far more precious than being bombarded by bullets and pain that seemed to never end.

"..be!" You caught Petra's voice enough to shatter your thoughts. "We need to get to the horses! Cover me!"

"Petra—" You tugged her shirt from behind. "Just—"

She ducked your head. With your weakened knees, your crouching posture turned to a slumped form awkwardly sitting on the dirt.

Will she judge you for being this weak?

"We have to secure an exit." She firmly said. You were sure she felt every inch of you tremble. How could you not? Did this not disturb her? You were to exchange blows with living people!

She put your hand on top of yours, as if she heard your thoughts.

Petra was a scared as you were. But how did she do it? She seemed in control.

"Feel that?" She said, her lips trembled. Even her teeth chattered. "I don't want to kill people, I don't want to be killed by people, but we have no choice. We at least have to secure an exit." She tossed you her round of bullets, waiting for your confirmation. "Can you do that?"

"Why me? You can do the shooting—"

"I can't! I—"

Bang!

Your neck snapped at the distinctly louder explosion. Ymir was the recipient. The APCS's bullets focused on Ymir, and they were having a hard time keeping up with the sheer number laying undetected in the shrubs and branches of trees.

You were losing.

Bang!

"Eld!"

"Damn it—"

"Oluo, back up!"

"I can't," You choked on your spit. Tears started welling up. "What if I killed someone?"

"Sir we have to retreat!"

"There's so many of them!"

"Either we risk getting shot, or wait here and get killed— either way, we have to go. I ready the horses, you watch my back."

You vehemently shook your head, "No—"

You didn't understand. Why would she entrust her life to you? You were cradling yourself, trembling on the dusty ground, helpless with your own mental prison. Why would anyone want to entrust their life to a no-good coward such as yourself?

You watched Eld drive a blade in an enemy's throat and pushed it deeper that the woman was almost split in half. It was her skull and a few bits of scalp that glued together every split macabre of her.

Was skull too hard for Eld's blades? Or maybe Eld was tired, or maybe he wanted to move on to the next kill. But a part of you wanted to believe that it was Eld's mercy that he still wanted her to have some resemblance of a human, even if just a little.

But was that mercy to begin with?

When Levi charged in the fringe of the forest, you heard unfamiliar screams concealed in its darkness, only emerging after with a new wardrobe of colored scarlet. Was that really the man who touched you with such gentleness?

"JOHNSON! PETRA!" Oluo cried, another person looking out for the horses. Your neck snapped to him in mere seconds, only that his cry was followed by another information you wished he said sooner.

"ON YOUR RIGHT!"

And your whole body tensed, twisting in a way that it shouldn't have. Your butt slammed in the ground, trembling hands clasping the grip of your rifle, a finger ready for the trigger.

Yet you found yourself getting dragged by Petra in another corner of the hearse, your back completely pinned on the wooden box.

"Come on!" Petra yelled.

Wait a minute…

"Maybe we could push the hearse on the other side as a shield!" You proposed, quite relieved even—

"Captain!"

And as if your body had a mind of its own, your body twisted faster than your mind processed it. Your eyes scanned the highs, only to find Levi's drenched, bloodied figure down, shades of red clinging in the contours of his back.

Someone shot him.

Someone shot your captain.

Your superior. The Humanity's strongest— down on the ground.

Your protector.

Your beloved. Shot.

And that was enough reason to kill.

Out of sheer rage, your mind couldn't think, but your body remembered combat. That was when your body began moving on its own. You dragged him near, making sure Petra took extra care of him. Teeth dug in your gums, your tongue tasted your own blood. Sulfur in your nostrils, one eye shut, one kept tab to whoever dared to shoot your captain.

You were the judge, and they all deserved to die.

You flicked your bag open, your bombs presented themselves. Big, small, midsized, the running type, the type that scatters, the type that blinded Annie's eye— you made them all and you would not hold back.

"Phoebe, what are you…?" Petra trailed off, and you responded with a look, hoping the quiet rage in it would answer her question that was never completed.

"Eld, Oluo, Ymir." You barked while lighting up your torch. "Please get out of the way."

"What?!"

"I said get out of the way."

"Who the fuck—"

One deep breath. Two, five— no, seven on the right— no, it didn't matter how many they were. You would get rid of this forest, these people once and for all.

"Or do you want to get caught up too?" And they watch you light up the first bomb. It fizzled in your palm, the fishy scent of sulfur filled your nostrils.

Without second thought, you hurled the bomb on your right.

BOOM!

The sounds went low to muted. You heard their gears,wheezing to get away, you heard the gunshots, desperate to retaliate but you weren't sane enough to care. All you thought was even the Military Police, Anti-Personnel Control Squad could cower huh? Were did their spunk go?

Four, six— maybe ten on the left.

You lit two and you used all your might to propel it in the enemies direction, on your left.

You lobbed, you pitched, you sent every bomb flying with the promise of an explosion. Of fire. Of mayhem. Of chaos. Of death. You didn't stop; the rage still gnawed inside you and it thirsted to be quenched.

Yet little by little, the reality was creeping in.

You crossed the line.

You killed people. Deliberately. You half-expected to be thrown in a fiery abyss, an endless falling, an immediate punishment, a hollow feeling in your chest— nothing. It felt… nothing. Or perhaps, the electricity shooting in your very veins protected you from feeling anything at the moment.

You punished the darers. How many have you killed? You didn't want to think. You heard their desperate attempts to get away before they splattered their brains in the dry soil, or fling their burnt, mangled flesh on the shrubs.

You could feel Petra's disturbed expression fixed on you. You didn't have to contemplate the shock in her face. No— you didn't want to, not right now. Not when you felt invincible at the moment, not when your hands didn't sweat or tremble at the sound and scent of violence. A part of you felt good at the sensation of being strong. The most part of you— the one that cowers and over-thinks and hesitates, you suppressed it.

"Phoebe…" Petra dared to say something, but the question fell in silence. Would she tell you to stop? Would she ask you if you were okay? You weren't sure. No, you were sure something broke inside you, but now was not the time to explore what it was.

The place crackled as wildfire consumed the foliage. It was finally over. They were all dead.

"P-Phoebe…" Petra tugged your pants.

"How is he?" You managed to sound controlled. You crouched down to look at Levi. You could sense Petra flinching when you met her level of gaze inches before the ground.

This time, you emptied your bag. What was it that Levi said? You were taking the whole city in your knapsack? Well, if you knew this would happen, you wished you brought more.

Your eyes began to water. Your hands began fumbling over his shirt, even the buttons were difficult to undo with your trembling hands. You wanted to act like you were in control, but really, who were you fooling? You couldn't even remember what you were looking for.

"I don't know…" Petra responded. The rest of the squad arrived behind the hearse, crouching down to meet their fallen captain. Levi wasn't invincible, you knew this. You saw it. He was dubbed as the Strongest Soldier of Humanity, but Humanity didn't mean void of vulnerabilities.

"Petra, how is he?" Eld said, clutching his shoulder.

"I have no idea, but his breathing seems stable."

"I think he sustained a lot of damage— how could he fight like this?"

You remembered now, you were looking for scissors. You needed his shirt out of the way so you could see the extent of damage.

You caught sight of what remained of Gunther. His body should still be warm even when poked and disfigured with bullets. What would you have done if Levi ended up like that? It was this: the place glowed with orange fire and the surroundings waved with heat.

"This is too much blood." Oluo mumbled.

"We have to cut his shirt—"

"It's fine," Levi groaned, his eyes slowly opened. He caught your wrist before your fingertips explored his skin, his eyes fixed at your now disarrayed, overwhelmed state.

"I'm wearing a vest." He raised the hem of his shirt, enough to see the thick, solid padding under. "I'll have bruises, but I'll live."

You couldn't help it— you stopped trying because no matter what you did, the tears still ran from your cheeks. Globs of salty tears rested on Levi's filthy, bloodied, sweat-stricken shirt. Your sniffles turned to heaps of sobs, to full blown bellows. The anger turned to fear, and fear became relief.

"Is something else hurting? You have to tell us!" The words came out strangled, caught in the midst of sobs.

Levi sat up. "Eld's shot. I have one in my arm, but I'll—"

Even though he didn't want to, even if he hated it, you were dead set giving him a hug. Your arms flung around his neck, craving to feel his body heat, wanting nothing else but to feel the beating of his heart.

But the man refused to be babied, not in front of the squad he commanded, or maybe— no, certainly , not in front of you with the squad in the same space.

"Phoebe," he whispered, calling your attention to unlink your arms around his neck, but you knew everyone heard him. Yet… yet he didn't rob you off the warm feeling of his hand, a simple message that he was alive.

And for now, that was enough.

Sorry, hospital duties, but hope you enjoyed. :)

A chunk of me was unsatisfied by how the first versions were so I kept revising and revising until I found something I am satisfied with. In the first version, they chased after Eren/Historia and ended up getting ambushed again but that was stupid— Levi and the squad falling over the same tactic twice so it was a huge no.

Then went the scene where Ymir was "used" as a decoy but it was actually smoke— not steam and MC would be rained with bullets. Then she would've died by them right? No, I made her fall from her horse and roll over a downward cliff, being bitten by red ants and Levi would rescue her while saying something so uncharacteristic. It was cringe, so no. This was also lengthy— around 4k words.

Then there was Phoebe shooting long range while the squad chased after Eren/Historia, then there was also Phoebe having a Nifa vs. Kenny moment, but she somehow avoided the shot.

And this is something I liked. I think it portrays Levi's human side, while staying in character. Tried to flip the narrative of Phoebe always getting rescued by Levi. I hope it worked.

Well thank you. I hope you enjoyed it. :)