The parchment lay flat against the old war table, weighted at each corner. Its edges curled with moisture from the air, but the ink was still fresh. Arrows marked the southern woods. Red rings circled the last known paths. Three abnormals. Dense trees. No civilians. But high risk.
Everyone in the room knew what that meant. Levi leaned over the map. Spoke without raising his voice.
"We deploy in fifteen. Standard flank formation."
Then, "Beatrice and I take point."
That part wasn't questioned. But it echoed. A subtle shift in the room's energy. The cadets, clustered toward the edges of the room, glanced at each other.
Mikasa's brows pinched.
Jean leaned slightly toward Connie.
"They're both taking point?" he whispered. "Isn't that…"
"Suicidal?" Connie offered, hushed.
But they didn't say it louder.
Didn't dare.
Because the moment Levi spoke, Beatrice had already stepped back from the table—silent.
And within three heartbeats, the hallway held nothing but the memory of their passing footsteps.
The forest swallowed them whole. No birdsong. No chatter. Just the hush of wind against leaves and the hum of tension in the air. The squad moved like shadows through the canopy, everybody wired tight.
Then—A shriek. High. Wet. Close. A crash followed—branches snapping in rapid succession.
Titan.
Eren reached for his triggers— But paused. Because Beatrice and Levi were already gone.
Blades drawn. No words exchanged. Not a single shout. They just moved.
Together.
Beatrice darted right. Levi flared left. They curved like twin arcs from a single bow.
He kicked off a tree trunk—straight into the titan's jaw. She came down from above—slicing the eyes before it could react.
The titan stumbled, reared back in pain—
And didn't make it another breath.
"They're not even signaling," Armin murmured, watching in stunned awe.
"They don't need to."
Another titan lunged from the north. Another aberrant broke the tree line—this one leaner, faster.
Levi pivoted in midair. Didn't blink. Didn't call out. Beatrice was already moving, reversing her grip mid-flight. She spun under its arms—cutting tendons before the titan even registered pain. And Levi? He dropped from the canopy like a blade from the sky.
One clean cut. The titan's head snapped forward— Its body crumpled. They landed opposite each other, boots pressed into opposite branches. Perfectly mirrored.
High above, the cadets watched in silence. Their feet were braced. But their minds? Racing.
"Holy shit," Sasha whispered.
"They didn't even hesitate," Jean said under his breath.
Mikasa didn't speak. Her eyes tracked every movement.
Even she, who never doubted her own skill, knew what she was watching wasn't just precision. It was an instinct-made weapon.
Below, the final titan burst through the thicket, massive limbs ripping bark from the trees as it charged toward the southern regroup point.
Eren shifted forward, But stopped.
Levi and Beatrice were already in the air again. She baited the titan low, slicing across its shoulder, drawing it down. He drove the final blow into the nape like he'd done it a hundred times with her as his blade. And maybe he had. Because when the titan crashed, they landed beside each other. Like they'd never been apart.
Back at the ridge, the squad regrouped. No one spoke right away. The air was too thick with something unspoken.
Oluo opened his mouth—then closed it.
Petra stared after the trail they vanished through, eyes wide with something like awe.
Gunther leaned toward Lieutenant Dahmous, who stood at the edge of the clearing, arms folded, a silent sentinel.
"How long have they been like that?" Gunther asked.
Dahmous didn't look up. But the corner of his mouth curved—just barely.
"Since before any of us ever picked up a blade."
Eld swallowed. "She was the original, wasn't she?"
A pause. Dahmous didn't answer at first. Then, "There was no 'Squad Levi' at the start.", "There was just her."
Silence. The trees rustled quietly overhead, as if they'd heard that story before.
"She never really got to spread her wings in the Military Police," Dahmous added. "So she switched to the Garrison."
"The rest… is history."
Petra blinked.
"She left the MPs?"
"They couldn't handle her."
They turned. Back toward the clearing. Just in time to see Levi wiping a streak of blood from the lenses of Beatrice's goggles. With his own cloth.
No comment. No command.
Just quiet action. Like it was second nature.
Like she was part of him.
And maybe…
Maybe she always had been.