The first thing Eren felt was steel. Cold metal cuffs bit into his wrists, arms spread just wide enough to ache. The stone beneath him was wet, his clothes sticking to his skin, muscles stiff from days without proper sleep or food.
His jaw ached—bruised, he realised. His ribs protested with every breath. His mind felt fogged, but the dread? That was crystal clear.
Where am I?
What now?
He opened his mouth, but no sound came. And then—
He saw the eyes.
Not glowing with titan madness. Not manic. Not cruel. Just... watching. Red as blood and still as death. A woman stood before him, leaning slightly at the waist. Not hovering. Not intruding. But present. Too present. Her eyes were like hot coals buried under snow.
"Subject's awake," she said, voice low, emotionless.
Not a hint of interest. Not a flicker of warmth.
Captain Beatrice Dalca.
The white hair—cut unevenly, stained slightly from a healed burn. Her uniform was regulation-perfect, every button fastened, the insignia of the Garrison gleaming dull in the low lamplight. Her goggles were perched on her head, tinted glass catching just enough light to glint like a predator's gaze.
Eren froze.
He recognised the danger. He just didn't know how to name it.
She studied him. Not like a scientist. Like a surgeon. Like someone who'd been forced to cut things open before.
"Don't bother trying to shift," she added calmly. "Your wrists and ankles are reinforced military steel. Unless you'd like to see if your spine regenerates faster than your head, I suggest staying put."
She didn't smile. Didn't blink. Just gave him the truth. Like a bullet, gently chambered.
"Ooooooh, he is awake!"
Hange Zoe exploded into view like a firework that didn't ask permission. They leaned in so fast that the wind of it hit Eren's face.
"Eren Yeager, is it? Or maybe Titan Yeager? Man-Eren? Partial Shifter Eren? Still working on the branding!"
Beatrice didn't move. Didn't even flinch. Just cleared her throat.
Once.
A sharp, surgical sound.
Hange backed off instantly. "Fine, fine. I'll wait. Yeesh."
From the back of the room, a new presence stepped forward.
Levi.
Compact. Dangerous.
His coat was still dusty from the outside. His eyes were like razors, already calculating which bones to snap if things got difficult. He didn't say anything at first. He didn't have to. His silence was louder than Hange's entire entrance.
"Wh-who... are you?" Eren croaked. He looked from Levi to Beatrice, his throat dry.
Beatrice tilted her head—barely. Then crouched lower. Close enough to cast a long, cold shadow across his lap.
"You don't need to know who I am, Yeager."
"You just need to know I don't like unknowns."
Her crimson eyes narrowed. Not cruel. Not hot.
Just piercing.
"And I've dissected them before."
Eren visibly paled. He shrank into the bench, sweat prickling the back of his neck. Beatrice didn't smirk. Didn't move. She just watched him recoil like prey.
"Captain," Levi said, voice flat. A warning.
She stood without a word. Straightened with precision.
"Just being honest," she replied.
Pivoted away. Silent steps.
A predator dismissed.
Levi moved forward. Spoke softly. But not kindly.
"You're not dying today, kid. Not unless you give us a reason."
He nodded toward Beatrice's retreating form.
"And between the two of us... trust me."
"You'd rather piss me off."
Eren didn't answer. Couldn't. His heart was still pounding in his ears. But the question formed, unspoken, in the air:
Why does she scare me more than Levi Ackerman?
The dungeon didn't sleep. Not really. Footsteps echoed every half hour—different weights, different rhythms. Political staff in clipped heels. MPs in heavy boots. Occasionally, the creak of a door or the rattle of keys. Eren sat on the bench.
Still.
Eyes unfocused. Jaw set. The metal cuffs had been replaced with iron bands chained to the wall—less brutal, more symbolic. He wasn't going anywhere.
And then—he heard it. Whispers.
Two soldiers muttering just outside his cell, voices low and reverent.
"Saw her during fallback. Swear to God, she took down a titan by hand."
"That's Dalca, right? The White Death? I heard she defied Pixis on the wall, and he thanked her for it."
"You ever seen someone kill like that and not even break a sweat?"
Eren's eyes widened slowly.
Dalca.
He hadn't known her name until now.
But he hadn't forgotten the eyes.
He sat up slowly, shifting to see through the slit in the iron door.
A line of light spilt across the corridor from the courtyard window. And through it—
Two figures. Silhouetted by late-day sun.
Levi and Beatrice.
They weren't speaking. They didn't need to. Beatrice stood with one hand on the rail, the light catching the pale streaks of her hair, making her look almost celestial. Levi stood beside her. Not close. But not far. His posture was casual, but his eyes… drifted. Down. To her gloves. One was off. A thin scrape marred the back of her hand.
Barely a mark. But it was there. Levi reached into his coat. Pulled out a cloth. Tossed it gently in her direction without looking.
Beatrice caught it in one hand. Wiped the wound. Said nothing. Neither did he. But the moment... hung.
Eren stared, breath caught in his throat. They weren't talking. They weren't touching. But something between them felt... heavy.
Not love. Not exactly. Not longing. Something older than both. Something forged in war and regret and choices that couldn't be undone.
And suddenly—They didn't look like soldiers. Or monsters. Or legends.
They looked like two people who once meant everything to each other.
And didn't know if they still could.