Chapter Text
- Death of a Thug -
He’s still hurting from hitting that damn brick wall when he jumps back up, more riled by the dull pain in his back and the sudden interception of his attack than the whole situation itself.
Those damn soldiers, spoiling his day when it was meant to be quiet.
There is no time to react though, when the second man, the Blondie, dodges his swing smoothly. It’d be deadly, had the man been not fast enough and they both know it. He doesn’t seem too shaken by this, but it’s Levi who loses patience now. He knocks the blade out of his hands and strikes, gripping his freshly sharpened knife in hand. It shines suspended between them like a challenge for half a second before falling down sharply, aiming at the soldier’s neck. But he's swift and nimble, despite his broad posture and slips away from the blow like it's nothing.
A good opponent, Levi thinks.
It’s a nice surprise, really, as all the soldiers sent by MP are usually shit.
The man grabs his hand, the one with knife, his fingers clutching tightly around his wrist. Levi struggles and hisses at him like a wild animal, but the man’s grip is like a vice – it cuts off blood supply in his palm. He scowls, fury fueling his hatred and tries to kick him, but can’t reach his stomach or groin.
“Stop and look around you,” the man growls.
Levi obeys him and doesn’t like what he sees.
“Thank you for taking care of the other two,” the Blondie turns to the other two soldiers.
His polite tone almost makes Levi nauseous.
That damn golden boy. Clean-shaven, like he’s never known dirt under his nails. Not a single hair out of place in that officer-perfect cut, slicked and disciplined as if even the wind wouldn’t dare to muss it.
His skin is clear, sun-kissed - must be nice, having constant access to sunlight and clean air while the rest of them rots underground.
He doesn’t belong here, not in this sloppy square where the cobblestones are cracked and the air carries the sour tang of mildew. Even the light seems to favour him, catching on the sharp lines of his uniform, making him look sculpted from some expensive material rather than built from the same flesh as everyone else. All around him, jackets hang loose on thin shoulders, dirty faces look at him with unconcealed distrust, but he stands straight as a blade, hands clasped behind his back like perfection is his birthright.
He smirks as he looks them over, three thugs kneeling in the dirt like dogs, while he towers over them like a goddamn conqueror.
Levi hates him already. He usually doesn’t hit first - but he’d make an exception for this one, had he met this bastard on the street. Unshackled and free, he’d take a swing without a second thought. Maybe more than one.
Just for the hell of it.
His hidden knife presses cold against his skin, a silent itch beneath the fabric of the shirt. It’s waiting to feel his guts on its cold surface, just like Levi waits to slice that pristine uniform open, to see that golden blood spill - this want simmers in his chest like a quiet fire.
But he doesn't move.
Not with his hands cuffed and four blades aimed at his back.
The blond, clearly the leader, picks up their gear from the ground where they had put it after disarming them. He stares at them in disbelief.
“Where did you get this from? Did you steal it?”
No answer.
He tries again. “You displayed exceptional skill in using the ODM gear. Who taught you to use it?”
No answer again.
The man sighs; the first sign of impatience which Levi observes with clinical satisfaction.
He takes a step forward, leans over Levi and asks again. “You must be the leader, correct? Do you have any former military training?”
Levi doesn’t answer, regarding him with as much distaste and hate in his eyes as he can only gather. It's easy as he still aches from meeting with that wall.
The Blondie smiles again and Levi's body twitches with sudden urge to evaporate this damn smirk from his face.
“How to kill this guy and make a run for it. It’s written all over your face” he teases, but takes a step back obediently. “I was hoping to avoid using violence as this is out first meeting, but…” he signs to the guy behind his back.
Without any warning, he’s laying on the mussy ground, face soaked in the sewer water, odour filling his nose. Precipitation, feces and blood all mixed together. It gets into his mouth, making him spit and gag to get rid of it. When he looks up, he sees the Underground people gathered around them.
Not too close - no one down here gets near a military uniform if they can help it, but close enough that Levi can make out the faces. Some familiar, some less, a mix of emotions written on them. Some worried, some satisfied. Some, he fought beside, some he mugged. Some still own him money. Some put his hope in him to help them leave this shithole.
It all has gone to hell now, as that fucking bastard stands in front of him.
“Let me ask one more time,” the blonde says, his smile long gone. “Where did you learn to use the ODM gear?”
Levi’s nose and mouth are still full of that disgusting water. He can’t breathe as the hand in his hair still holds his head firmly in one place.
“No one did, okay?" he hears Farlan. “We did it ourselves, you fucking civil servant.”
“You’re worse than MPs, what the fuck do you want from us? Take the gear and leave us alone!” Isabel adds.
Levi wants to tell them to shut the hell up, but can’t, still drowning in the shallow puddle. His lungs are screaming, but if he takes a breath in, it’ll only make it worse.
Finally the hand mercifully pulls him up and he can breathe again. Blondie is still looking at him, face thoughtful, thick brows furrowed like he tries very hard to understand something, but cannot. Levi would have called this expression constipated, if he could speak instead of gasping for air.
“Very well," the man murmurs. “My name’s Erwin Smith. What’s your name?”
Levi’s hair is soaked, the white material of his shirt now brown from the ground beneath him. He feels dirty and disgusting, all because of some soldier playing a fucking ruler.
The water is still dripping down his face, it gets into his eyes and he blinks rapidly to get rid of the stinging. When he opens them again, the guy – Erwin Smith – is kneeling in from of him. Not too close, but-
He spits, a thick mix of saliva, sewer water and blood arcs through the air and lands dead center between Erwin’s, sliding down his nose a bit.
Just like he intended it.
He only regrets he can’t do more. Can’t ruin that clean, smug face completely, bruise those piercing blue eyes, break the nose, but – he has to appreciate what he has now.
A sharp gasp cuts through the silence. Farlan and Isabel are frozen, wide-eyed, shock written clear across their faces.
Then the hand returns - fingers twisting painfully in his hair, pulling hard. Levi braces for it, ready to eat the dirt again, but Erwin raises his hands, stopping the soldier in his tracks.
Slowly, he wipes the spit from his face with the edge of his sleeve. When his eyes meet Levi’s again, they’re steady and cold. Not a fucking shadow of irritation betrays his emotions.
“You certainly got spirit,” he remarks calmly. “But if you continue this way, your friends will be the ones to pay the price.”
“Fuck you,” Farlan growls as the soldiers holding them press their blades by their throats.
Levi watches him, jaw clenched, a fresh wave of hate bubbling up in his chest.
“What’s your name?” Erwin asks.
Is he stupid?, crosses Levi’s mind.
“You bastard…” he hisses, voice venomous.
Oh, the knife in his boot if only could he reach it…
“Your name?” Erwin doesn’t even acknowledge the insult.
…he would cut that neck right through...
Levi’s teeth grind. “It’s Levi,” he finally spits.
…and watch the golden blood spill on the filthy ground.
“Levi…” Erwin repeats, like he’s tasting it, testing it.
Levi hates how it sounds in his mouth - too calm, too composed, too much satisfaction hidden in the tone.
He says it like he owns him already.
The smile is back. “Why don’t we make a deal, Levi?”
Levi has seen the sun before. His mother used to take him out whenever the measly sun rays shone through the cracks in the ground above them. But the open sky and full, unclouded sun that hits his eyes right after they emerge from the ground fucking burns. He feels dizzy just from standing in it and jumps into the carriage quickly, trying not to show how fucking painful it was.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it big bro?” Isabel chirps happily. She’s leaning on the windowsill, observing the life outside the moving vehicle.
Farlan looks at him suspiciously, but says nothing.
The three of them travel in near silence, the only sound Isabel’s excited voice as she marvels at every scrap of sky and every crooked lamppost they pass. She chatters about clouds shaped like birds, about how the wind smells different up here.
Levi grunts once or twice, offering no real reply, but stays quiet otherwise, peering out from beneath his hood, ignoring the sharp sting in his eyes as the light presses too hard against them.
Having spent years crawling through the filthiest veins of the Underground, where sunlight was nothing but a story whispered among the desperate, he shouldn’t be surprised.
He’d slept folded into a closet, wedged between old rags, while his mother entertained strangers with her tired body. After Kenny dumped him without a backward glance, he moved even deeper - down to the places where even rumors of daylight didn’t reach, where mold crept like a second skin across every surface.
But the memory of her lingers anyway - his mother in that cramped, dim-lit room, steam rising from chipped cups as she prepared them the cheapest tea she could find. He remembers the way the weak candlelight softened her worn face, the tiny, stolen moments of comfort between the chaos outside the door.
And now, walking under a sky too big and too bright, he kicks himself for ditching even that part of her, for pretending he’d cut every thread that once tethered him to something gentler.
Later, when they arrive at Survey Corps’ headquarters, Levi winces the second they step into the open. He tries not to show it, but the light hits him like a damn slap every damn time.
“You’ll get used to it,” Erwin says simply, walking ahead without looking back.
Levi doesn’t answer. He just lowers his eyes to the dirt path and keeps walking.
They train when they’re supposed to, eat the food they’re being given and sleep in the beds assigned to them.
Their Squad Leader, Flagon, is a pain in the ass, but Levi can’t complain. It’s satisfying, in a way, riling him up by the simplest things he does. The guy’s stickler for rules and even Levi’s cravat earns him a scoff.
Flagon paces behind the squad, eyes sharp and too serious. Every move they make is under his scrutiny, but Levi stands apart, deliberately ignoring any advice he throws in his direction.
“Hold your blade properly, Levi,” Flagon snaps, eyeing the way Levi’s fingers wrap loosely around the hilt. “These aren’t toys. You want to die the second you step outside the Walls?”
Levi shifts the grip, purposefully curling his fingers just a bit differently. “Might as well happen to you first."
Flagon stops, jaw tightening. “What did you say?”
Levi meets his glare evenly. “You fuss over slicing Titans’ necks like it’s some puzzle. Can you even sharpen your own damn blade without supervision?”
A ripple of tension sweeps the squad. Isabel gasps softly, Farlan’s eyes flicker nervously between them, but no one moves to intervene.
Flagon’s face reddens. “You’re lucky Erwin keeps you in check."
Levi’s lip curl. “No one keeps me in check. But you may try, if you feel brave.”
Flagons leans over him, furious. “Was that a threat?”
“Should it be?” Levi asks calmly and takes a step forward. Farlan pulls him immediately back.
Flagon’s nostrils flare, his knuckles whitening around the hilt of his blade.“You think you’re untouchable because of the way you were recruited?” Flagon spits. “You’re just a thug the Corps decided to leash.”
Levi’s eyes narrow to slits. “Better a thug who knows how to survive than a loudmouth who doesn’t know when to shut up.”
A soft gasp breaks from Isabel and Farlan’s hand tightens on Levi’s shoulder, holding him back as Flagon bristles.
Flagon jabs a finger toward him. “You’re testing your luck, brat.”
“I don’t believe in luck.”
The squad holds its collective breath. Farlan pulls harder, guiding Levi back a half step. “Enough,” he mutters, trying to defuse the moment.
Flagon’s glare lingers a heartbeat longer before he straightens, shoulders stiff, and spits on the ground. “You’re not worth the punishment you’d get,” he growls, then stalks off, boots crunching on gravel.
Levi exhales through his nose, a sound closer to disdain than relief, and sheathes his blade with a crisp snap.
Isabel exhales loudly, the tension breaking. Levi catches her wide eyes. “Relax. He’s all bark."
Farlan shakes his head but doesn’t say a word.
A tall officer strode down the line, arms crossed behind his back. He wasn’t Erwin - this one was older, by-the-book, a face too used to being obeyed, looking like the guy hasn’t taken a proper shit in years.
“Company, attention!”
The sound of bodies stiffening was like a gunshot.
“Salute!”
They all move like one, in perfect rhythm, spined straight, fists right on their hearts, dedicating them to fuck-knows-what. Even Farlan and Isabel fix their posture and blend in perfectly among the other soldier.
The officer halts, looking down and the line until his gaze lands on one, completely ignorant person.
“You,” he barks. “Name and rank.”
“Levi. No rank worth mentioning,” a flat reply comes.
“Then maybe that’s why you don’t understand how to salute.”
“I understand it just fine.”
The officer steps forward, posture stiff, his eyes scanning him up and down. “Then explain yourself.”
“I don’t see the point in saluting someone who hasn’t earned it.”
A ripple went through the formation. One of the younger cadets beside him flinches like he expects Levi to be hit. Even Flagon looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin.
“Officer Kilinsky, he’s -” he starts to explain, but the man motions him to be quiet.
The officer’s jaw clenches. “Do you think you’re better than this unit?”
Levi finally tilts his head, eyes cold and sharp, unbothered by the clear difference in height and mass between him and Kilinsky. “No. I think I’m not a part of this unit at all. That’s different.”
“You're under military command. That makes you a part of it whether you like it or not.”
“Then maybe it’s just not worth following.”
A heavy silence settles again. Somewhere behind the officer, Erwin has appeared - quiet and observant as always. He stops right outside the main circle, invisible to everyone. He doesn’t interrupt.
“Drop and give me fifty,” the officer snaps.
Levi doesn’t move.
The officer steps closer. “Now.”
He looks at him, looks like he’s about to say something – or do, what’s worse. Farlan side-eyes him, his warning jab doing nothing to stop Levi once he makes up his mind. Isabel is quiet and pale next to them.
“Are you deaf, you rat?” the officer growls, low and dangerous. “I said: drop and give me fifty.”
Levi slowly lowers himself, ignoring everyone’s stares fixed at him to the ground and follows the order.
When he’s done, he stands up without waiting for permission. “Can I go now?”
The officer doesn’t respond, his face stone, but his body is practically shaking with indignation. Levi is already walking off, brushing past Erwin without a glance.
Erwin looks after him for a moment, unsure what to do next. Whatever it is that involves following the man that has just passed him, he thinks better of it. Instead, he joins Kilinsky on the square.
“He’ll get someone killed one day,” the officer says tightly.
Erwin’s gaze flickers to Levi’s friends. The doubt and worry are written all over their faces as they glance towards the barracks, where Levi disappeared.
For the first time since he’s brought them here, he doesn’t try to deny that statement.
Erwin was just walking through the headquarters, exhausted, after yet another visit in Mitras. He’s just taken another turn, heading for his office, when an unexpected shadow catches his eye. Someone’s leaning against the wall, standing in shadows, deliberately avoiding the light of lanterns.
He hesitates, then stops and crosses the hall to join him.
“Why aren’t you with the other cadets?”
Farlan scowls - an expression so Levi, he must have borrowed it from him.
“Is he still cleaning?” Erwin asks, nodding toward the toilet door beside them.
“He hasn’t left yet,” comes the quiet reply.
“Still? I thought he had enough time.”
“I guess not.”
Erwin leans against the wall and looks at the man across from him. For a moment, they both listen to the sounds coming from the bathroom.
“Where’s your friend, the third one - Isabel, am I right? What is she doing?”
“Probably eating dinner.”
As Erwin observed himself, Isabel was the most social of the group - laughing easily, chatting with the other women in her squad, and never hesitating to ask questions or share a joke. She had a knack for turning strangers into companions within minutes, her enthusiasm infectious enough to thaw even the stiffest of recruits. Easy-going to a fault, perhaps, but as Flagon once put it, “blindly loyal to her friends,” a quality that both reassured and worried Erwin. Loyalty like that was a gift… and a liability.
Farlan, on the other hand although not as aloof as Levi, kept himself to the edges of the group, more observer than participant. He seldom joined in on laughter or gossip, but when a task needed to be done, he worked efficiently alongside others, offering just enough conversation to earn their respect without opening himself too much. His steady, thoughtful nature had earned him a handful of positive remarks from his peers – and even Flagon.
Levi, on the other hand, was a storm contained within a man’s frame.
He refused outright to obey any order Flagon gave, no matter how minor. Erwin doubted Levi had ever spoken to anyone outside his small circle, and when he did, his words were clipped and guarded, cutting conversations short or ignoring them altogether. He didn’t seem engaged - didn’t even seem present, at times. During drills or downtime, while others forged camaraderie over shared meals or complaints, Levi remained apart, sharpening his blades or polishing gear with a precision that felt more like avoidance than meticulousness.
“Insubordinate and headstrong, no patience for rules,” Flagon complained more than once. “Hostile whenever I try to command him. Acts like the rest of us are wasting his time.”
These complaints had become a near-permanent feature of Erwin’s check-ins with Shadis. Flagon would recount some fresh insult or act of defiance, and Erwin, while keeping his expression politely attentive, would quietly file the details away without letting them sway him.
Shadis, however, had far less patience. The Commander’s sharp tone grew sharper with each new report, and his tolerance for Levi’s insolence wore thin. It wasn’t long before Levi found himself scrubbing floors, hauling water, and repairing equipment long after the others had been dismissed - having more chores than any two soldiers combined.
“You can go. I’ll tell Squad Leader Flagon when he’s done.”
“That won’t change anything,” Farlan informs him with resignation in his voice. “He can’t join us anyway.”
Erwin sighs, drags a palm down his face, trying to wash away the familiar frustration he feels every time the topic changes to Levi.
“What was it this time?”
Farlan shrugs, arms crossed over his chest. “Take your pick. Improper form, wrong attitude, talking back to superior officers, not enough bowing and ass-kissing.”
“He’s doing it on purpose, isn’t he? Just to get punished.”
Farlan glances at him. “He can be very stubborn, especially while proving his point.”
“What point is he trying to prove now?” he asks, but Farlan shrugs again, leaving no space for discussion here.
Erwin gives up and turns on his heel, heading for the office again. “Just remember to be back in the barracks in two hours. No wandering after curfew, understood?” he calls over his shoulder.
“Sure,” Farlan replies, a little too casually. Then, after a pause, he speaks again, his voice missing some of its edge. “You know this won’t work, right?”
Erwin stops. “What do you mean?”
Farlan doesn’t move, but his gaze flickers around the hall, avoiding Erwin’s gaze with a bit too much effort. “I mean, you’re not going to make him obey by giving him extra chores. Or starving him. Or running him into the ground. That stuff doesn’t work on Levi. He’s not the type you break.”
“He seems to be working with you just fine.”
“That’s because he chose to. He asked us to join him. We followed because we wanted to.” A pause. “I didn’t make him scrub toilets or eat less than me,” he adds, a slight note of accusation in his tone.
“I’m not the one making those decisions.”
“Well, you certainly seem to be."
Erwin exhales slowly. His voice, when it returns, is composed. “Go join your friend in the dining hall. Levi’s not supposed to eat tonight, but you are. I’ll send him away when he’s finished.”
Farlan narrows his eyes. “You’re not my Squad Leader. You don’t get to give me orders.”
“No,” Erwin agrees. “But I am your superior. And I do have that right. Dismissed.”
Farlan doesn’t move at first. Then, reluctantly, he steps away, silent as he turns down the hall.
Erwin pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed for a brief moment. Then he pulls himself together and starts walking in the opposite direction. His footsteps echoes in the empty corridor.
The sun is high, beating down on the field where squads run drills in tight formation.
Levi stands off to the side, arms folded, observing the others go through formation maneuvers. He hasn’t joined then yet, reluctant to practice any group drills, much to Flagon’s irritation. He couldn’t just make him do it, though. At least that's something he seems to have grasped already.
He watches as the squads move, but his eyes are fixed on one person in particular.
Isabel glides through the air with more grace and precision that he’s even seen her. Even in the Underground she was a little behind him and Farlan when it came to speed and agility.
She’s in full gear, hair pulled tight, face set in a focused frown. She moves just like she means to - quick, sharp, coordinated. She doesn’t flinch when barked at. Doesn’t stumble when Flagon raises his voice, even when it’s mostly insults.
Levi notices the way the others respond to her too: nods, small smiles, light jabs to her shoulder when she passes. She isn’t just tolerated anymore - she is a part of them.
She doesn’t look toward him once and he tries to brush it off, but fucking can’t.
Even when she passes him within ten feet during a break, brushing hair off her sweaty face and laughing at something one of the girls says - she doesn’t glance over too occupied with her new friends.
Levi’s jaw tenses.
Farlan watches them from a distance and Levi can see his warning glances, but ignores them.
It bugs him all day, but he doesn’t bring it up, even when she’s excitedly telling them about it – the girls that are nice to her, how they ate dinner together and talk throughout it. She brags about the praises she got from Flagon and Levi meets Farlan’s gaze.
Don’t, he says wordlessly.
So he doesn’t.
“Levi.”
Farlan finds him on the roof. Exactly where he likes to be at night – away from the crowded, noisy barracks and high enough to see any danger that may come – what exactly, he has no idea.
He doesn’t acknowledge him. Just keep looking right ahead, at the wide panorama of lights coming from neighbouring towns.
“You’re on thin ice, you know that, right?” he mutters to him, hoping to get any reaction.
“Where’s Isabel?”
“Sleeping.”
“Maybe you should join her.”
Farlan grimaces and sits down beside him, their knees brush and Levi doesn’t pull away. “Did you forget why we’re here in the first place?”
“Did you forget?” Levi snaps.
“What are you talking about?”
Levi turns to him. “What are you doing? Playing pretend a diligent soldier? Or have you really started believing you’re one of them?”
“I’m sticking to the plan, Levi,” Farlan replies. “We said we’d stay low. Learn how things work. Get close enough to find the papers.”
“Right. And how’s that going? You call cleaning their boots while they call us rats behind our backs sticking to the plan?”
Farlan’s jaw clenches. “You think I don’t hear it? You think it doesn’t piss me off too? But throwing tantrums isn’t gonna change anything.”
“At least I’m fucking doing something.”
“Yeah? And how does it usually end? What’s wrong with you? You haven’t been that prickly even when we were preparing to rob those smugglers.”
“I’m not prickly.”
“No, you’re just burning every bridge you step on and dare people to push you off the edge.”
“We don’t need any bridges,” he sneers. “And those guys need to learn when to shut the fuck up.”
Farlan rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to be the one to teach them. Sometimes it’s better to just stand down.”
“And let them insult Isabel?”
Farlan pinches the bridge of his nose, already tired of this conversation. “I’m not talking about today. I’m talking about every single thing you’re doing just to piss those officers off. Do you want to spend your whole time here cleaning the latrines and starving?”
“Maybe it’s better than kissing their asses,” Levi huffs.
“And maybe you’ve decided it’s easier to be hated than try to be liked for once in your damn life,” Farlan snaps and walks away, leaving him alone.
Levi doesn’t follow.
He rests his chin on one knee and looks at the town lights, the dark sky, the stars.
The horizon.
Has he ever seen it before?
The sky is still light enough to make out the clear line, where it meets the Wall. It looks strange to him, unfamiliar, the vast expanse above him and a point where it ends. He remembers vividly the stone ceiling of the Underground. The wet, mossy stones, always dripping some kind of sewage – all that capital city has ever offered to them.
It seemed so easy, back in their house. Stealing the documents, killing the guy owning them and blackmailing the pig that recruited them in exchange for their freedom. But then the reality struck them the second the world reached its damned arms towards them. Isabel went full-soldier mode, making friends along the way and believing that she could really be one of them, while Farlan plays on two fronts, jumping to salute and kissing asses of those constipated officers and looking for the document in the meantime.
They both had a dream to fulfill and Levi was more than happy to tag along and make way for it, but they were never supposed to become a fucking part of this system.
He sighs and runs a hand down his face.
The barracks smell as if shit and sweat fucked and had a bastard – it’s unbearable, especially in this temperature, so he curls on his side and looks at the view in front of him until he falls asleep, hoping the sky will be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes again.
The air inside the depot is thick with oil and metal. Cadets stands at benches, cleaning blades and adjusting gas canisters. Conversation hums in low clusters - boredom, complaints, mindless chatter.
Isabel stands at the far end of the room, bent over her gear, humming to herself as she polishes the edge of her blade. She has had that easy energy for days - focused but bright, blooming under any praise.
A couple of male cadets stand a few stations down, voices low enough to sound secretive, but loud enough to be overheard.
“You know where she’s from, right?”
“Yeah, you can tell. Got that rat - eager look. Laughs too loud, follows orders like she’s starving for praise.”
Levi freezes mid-wipe, cloth still in his hand.
One of the cadets snickers. “It’s cute how she tries to fit in. But you can’t just scrub filth out of someone’s blood.”
Isabel’s hands pauses. Her humming stops.
The one who’d said it catches her reaction and grins. “Sorry, was that too fast for you? Want me to draw you a picture so you can keep up, sweetheart?”
Before she could react, Levi is already moving.
In two decided strides, he’s on the cadet - grabs him by the collar and slams his back into the supply shelf. The cadet's eyes go wide as the air leaves his lungs in ragged breaths.
Across the room, heads turn. The other cadet steps forward, uncertain whether to react. Farlan moves before he can do anything, hauling him back with a warning look.
Levi’s voice cuts through the sudden silence like a razor. “Say that again. I fucking dare you.”
Isabel stands frozen, wide-eyed.
“Levi!” Flagon barks from the doorway. “Stand down!”
Levi doesn’t even flinch. His eyes are locked on the cadet’s, cold and sharp like a drawn blade. The men he’s holding gasps for air, but he just tightens his grip around his neck.
“Think you’re better than her? Because you were born in sunlight and piss in a private latrine?” he hisses. “You wouldn't survive one day where we came from.”
The cadet cough, scrambling for breath. “You’re insane. It was just a joke. Didn’t mean anything.”
Levi slams him again, even harder.“Then make another joke,” he snarls. “Let’s see how funny you are when your teeth are on the floor.”
“Levi!”
This time, it’s Erwin’s voice.
He’s standing beside Flagon in the doorway. He must have been called or the sounds of the fight have lured him here.
Levi looks at him over his shoulder, jaw tight.
Erwin meets his eyes and speaks evenly. “Let him go.”
“Come on, Levi,” he hears Farlan whisper, “don’t make it worse.”
Levi’s nostrils flares. He holds for just one second longer - then releases his grip and steps back.
The cadet collapse against the shelf, coughing, red-faced and furious.
Flagon storms forward, already yelling something about punishment and disrespect, but Erwin raises a hand and cuts him off. He steps closer to Levi.
“That behavior is unacceptable,” he says.
Levi looks up at him and shrugs, completely impassive. He doesn’t fucking care if it’s unacceptable.
Erwin doesn’t move for a moment. He studies Levi’s face - calm now, blank. But that’s not how he looked a second ago. A second ago, he was ready to crush someone’s windpipe just for speaking.
“Go cool off,” Erwin orders eventually. “Now.”
Levi tilts his head slightly, like he’s considering whether to ignore the order just to see what happens. Then he turns on his heel and walks out.
The door swings shut behind him with a dull thud.
Flagon rounds on Erwin immediately. “You’re letting him walk away after that? You saw it - he assaulted a cadet in front of an officer!”
“I saw it,” Erwin says, calm. “And I’ll handle it.”
“With respect, sir, if we keep letting him get away with this - ”
“I said I’ll handle it.”
Flagon grits his teeth, but says nothing more.
Erwin turns away and glances at the shelf where the cadet is still leaning against. The boy avoids his gaze, still red-faced, shaking a little. Erwin doesn’t miss the way Farlan has already crossed the room following Levi, leaving Isabel, still wide-eyed, still in shock, alone.
“Go back to cleaning,” he orders and leaves the room too.
Undoubtedly, Flagon is going to visit Shadis today.
Isabel joins them later, after the drills, when everyone else prepares for dinner. They’re standing behind the storage building, invisible to other cadets. Levi hears her footsteps before she even rounds the corner.
“There you are!” she beams as she spots them, bouncing a little on her heels. “I’ve been looking for you guys everywhere. Why didn’t you tell me where you’re going?”
“You seemed too busy playing with your friends,” Levi snarls.
Isabel's walk halts for a moment, but she steps closer anyway, hands behind her back like she’s keeping herself from fidgeting. “I just wanted to say thank you. For stepping in. That guy’s been a jerk since day one.”
“You shouldn’t have let him get to you,” Farlan reminds her.
“I wasn’t letting him!” Isabel protests, almost pouting. “I was just… I don’t know. Trying to be friendly. Some of them are actually okay. They even let me sit with them today - shared their bread and everything.”
She glances between them, looking at them with those big, green eyes like a puppy waiting to be praised for fetching a stick.
Levi’s jaw clenches. “You shouldn’t be talking to people like that in the first place.”
Her smile fades. “What?”
“You act like they’re your friends. Like they don’t tear you apart the second your back’s turned.”
Her brows knit, defensive. “They don’t- ”
“They do,” he cuts her off. “Naive little brat. Raised by thugs, dragged up here with the rats. They laugh behind your back. And you just sit there with them, like you’re one of them.”
Isabel’s voice cracks. “I’m trying to be nice, Levi! I’m doing what we’re supposed to do - fitting in, working as a team! I thought that’s what you wanted!”
He sees tears in her eyes, on the verge of crying, but it’s too late to stop now.
He’s already gone too far. “They don’t care about you,” he says coldly. “They never will. Stop pretending otherwise.”
Her whisper trembles. “I was just trying to get along. I thought… if I tried, maybe they’d see we’re not so different.” Her lip wobbles. “Why are you being like this?”
“They do see,” he answers, too stubborn for his own good. “And they’ll hate you for it anyway.”
The words hang heavy. Her eyes glass over, cheeks flushed with hurt.
“You don’t have to be cruel,” she says softly, voice breaking. “I know I don’t fit anywhere.”
She turns before they can see her cry, shoulders shaking as she disappears around the corner. The air feels brittle in her absence.
Farlan exhales beside him, his quiet disappointment only riling Levi more. “All you had to say was: ‘No problem, Bell. We’ve got your back.’”
Levi doesn’t look at him. “You know I wouldn’t say that.”
Farlan looks over him critically. “For once in your life you could break that character you’re playing, Levi.”
Levi’s head jerks toward him. “I’m not playing anyone.”
“Are you?”
Levi’s jaw tenses, fists curl at his sides. “She’s better off not getting attached. You want her end up like me?”
Farlan shakes his head. “She already looks up to you, Levi. You’re the closest thing she has to family. Just because she’s liked here doesn’t mean she’ll abandon us. We’ve only ever had each other - and pushing her away isn’t protecting her.”
Levi’s silence is heavy.
“Go after her,” Farlan says. “Before she starts believing all the crap those bastards say about her.”
“Hey.”
The silhouette on the bed doesn’t move.
Levi stands there for a moment, staring at the lump under the thin blanket, then exhales slowly and steps closer. Isabel lays curled into a tight ball, hair messy and face hidden under the blanket. He can tell she has been crying anyway.
“I shouldn’t have said it like that,” Levi mutters. “I didn’t mean it, the things I said. They just came out.”
“You were so mean,” she mumbles faintly.
Levi nods. “Yeah. I know.” She sits up slowly, dragging the blanket with her. Her lip wobbles. “I didn’t mean to make you mad…”
“I wasn’t mad,” she corrects him. “I was sad that you too see it.” He doesn’t respond. “I thought that maybe, if I put in enough effort, people will stop seeing me for where I came from.”
She stops, takes in a ragged breath and Levi realises a bit too late, that she’s crying again.
“I’m so sick of being a sewer rat, Levi. That’s all we’ve being called all the time – rats, thugs, murderers, freaks. I just want to belong somewhere. At least for a short moment.”
“We belong to each other,” he mutters softly. “And soon we’ll find a place where no one calls us that.”
She looks up at him, hope and trust in her gaze make something twist deep inside of him. “You promise?”
“I do.”
“Will we have pets? And our own bathroom? And a kitchen?”
Levi nods. “All those things.”
“I want a room with a balcony,” she beams. “We’ll sit there and observe the people from above for hours.”
Levi doesn’t know if they’ll even find a room just like she wants, but he promises her everything, anyway, no matter how unrealistic and impossible these wishes sound, because for a short moment he lets himself borrow her dream and believe – that they’ll make it through.
“You should eat something, the dinner is probably not over yet.”
She squints at him. “Are you allowed to eat it?”
“No, but you can join Farlan. I’ll wait for you two.”
“I don’t want you to go around hungry.”
“It’s fine, Bell. We’ve been through worse, remember? And it’s my fault anyway, shouldn’t have been so stubborn with that officer.”
She nods and scrambles from the bed. Her eyes are still puffy, but at least she’s stopped crying for now. And the heavy weight from Levi’s shoulders lifts.
Three kids from the Underground dreaming of reaching the skies – how naive are they, really?
.
.
.
They were very naive, he realises.
The corpses of the Titans are still steaming profusely, everything is wet and muddy and Levi’s covered in dirt and blood. Wet streaks drip down his face and he kneels beside Isabel's head.
Her eyes are glassy.
And empty.
She doesn’t look peaceful like his mother when she died – she looks scared and Levi is terrified of her fear. Her mouth is still wide open, as if she’s calling his name – he doesn’t doubt she did exactly that in her last moments.
“Any survivors out there?” he hears from behind.
Farlan too, doesn’t resemble himself. His face is too twisted, he looks somewhere up, in the far distance and Levi averts his gave before it falls on his missing lower part.
“Levi!” he hears Erwin calling. “Are you the only one left?”
He ignores him. Comes back to Isabel and closes her eyes, he can’t stand her stare, not after promising her all those things – the pet, the bathroom, the balcony, he even gave her his word to bake her something in their future kitchen.
He looks at his bloodied hands, the one that closed Isabels eyes and the other one, that pulled Farlan’s body out of a Titan’s mouth.
Too late.
Too late.
Too late.
He made a mistake.
It’s all been children’s talking. The dreams, the house, the balcony. How on earth were they supposed to live in Mitras unrecognized? They didn't think it though at all. All those plans - just a fairy tale.
“You did all of this alone?” he hears Erwin again.
He’s closer than before, probably standing right behind him, tall and fucking proud like always. Fucking bastard. Their whole plan has gone to hell, but he can still fulfill the wish that he had. His last will.
He jumps up from the ground and strikes at Erwin, adrenaline still fresh and flowing through his whole body. They land on the ground and before Erwin as much as fucking blinks, Levi holds a blade by his throat.
“Don’t even fucking try,” he growls to the soldier Erwin came with. He’s the one that held him by the hair in the puddle. His time will come too.
“Erwin,” he growls. It’s the first time he says his name out loud. It sounds foreign in his mouth and he spits it like an insult, with disgust. “I’m going to kill you. That’s why I’m here.”
He’s startled. Levi can see it across his face, even when the man quickly hides it under his cold expression. He hopes to see something more – fear, maybe, or dread. But Erwin collects himself within seconds after the attack. He tilts his head and meets his eyes.
Steel silver and sky blue clash.
“So they’re all dead,” he says calmly. “I see.”
The rain gradually stops, having left deep puddles around them. For a moment Levi feels an urge to shove Erwin’s face right into one – and hold it there until he stops twitching under his grasp.
Erwin puts his hand under his jacket – Levi presses the blade to his throat until it almost cuts through the skin – but the man in front of him pulls out a white envelope.
“These is what I supposedly have on Nicholas Lobov,” he informs him, ignoring the heavy press against his pulse. “Unfortunately, you’re too late.”
It’s empty. All the papers inside are a empty – just blank sheets of paper that Levi and they were looking for.
“So you knew,” he whispers.
“It was a bluff. I knew he was embezzling money left from the suspension of the Survey Corps, but I spread misinformation, because I still needed a definitive proof to back him into a corner. I knew he’d make some kind of move, sooner or later. It was easy to track him down, all the traces lead right to you three.”
“Knowing so much, why did you even bring us here?”
Erwin’s mouth twitches and Levi sees that smug bastard again – smirking and proud, standing over them in the Underground.“ One reason was your exceptional military prowess. And another… I could use you to throw off Lobov,” he explains. “ But there’s no longer any need for that. The real documents are currently in the hands of Commander-in-Chief Zackly. It’s all over for him.”
Levi feels his blood boil in his veins. Over? Why is he taking about an end, when it’s just the beginning of the things he’ll do to him.
“So you’re telling me,” he hisses.“ That they were just pawns in your worthless game?
“Erwin…?” the soldier behind him asks, unsure how or if, to react.
“You threw away their lives just to earn more money for your stupid expeditions?” he says slowly, the words making him angrier and angrier as they leave his mouth.“Well, Erwin, in this game you’re playing, you lose,” he adjudicates and swings.
“Erwin!” the soldiers screams, but Erwin raises his hand to stop him. The other one grips tightly Levi’s blade.
“Worthless game?” he repeats.
There it is, the anger. Something flashes in his eyes, maybe it’s the pain that riles him, blood drips from his hand as the sword digs into his flesh deeper and deeper.
“Who’s the one that killed your friends? Was it me or was it you?” he asks in low voice. “Do you think that if you had come to attack me together, all of you would have made it out alive?”
He pulls the sword away from his body and Levi lets him. New wave of guilt hitting him like a physical blow.
“That’s right,” he mutters.“It was my conceit. My damn pride is to blame…”
“No!” Erwin exclaims. He’s still strong, even with his hand sliced open and snatches the sword out of Levi’s hand.“ It was the Titans! We still know so little about them, where do they come from?, why do they exist?, why do they eat people?, no one knows. We’re completely ignorant. And as long as we keep ignoring it, we’ll never find a way to free us from this despair!”
Levi doesn’t realise Erwin has stood up until he is hovering over him, something strange flickering behind his eyes – not fully madness, but not just ambition either.
“Look around you, Levi. There are no Walls here, no matter how far you’ll go. There might be something more hiding here - the answers we’re looking for, the way out of this Hell. But there are people inside those Walls, trying to keep us from leaving. They prefer to stay where danger can’t reach them, thinking only about their profits and losses. It’s understandable, the humankind has been imprisoned behind those Walls for a hundred years, their eyes has become too clouded to see the other side." He pauses and looks Levi right in the eyes.“ What about you. Levi? Can you look through those clouds?”
“It’s your world, not mine,” he hisses.
Erwin’s still holding his hand, his fingers clasp around his wrist and stay there, he feels warm blood spilling over his skin, soaking into his jacket. It disgusts him. He wants to pull away.
“What then? You’ll kill me and come back to the darkness of the Underground? Is that the life you want have?” the man asks, leaning way too close.
He could spit on his face again. Kick him, use the other hand to stab him and make a run for it.
“We won’t give up on going outside those walls,” he continues. “Even my death won’t change it. Another expeditions will follow. And the Survey Corps will continue to exist. So fight with us, Levi. Humanity needs your skills!”
For a sweet, precious moment Levi considers throwing it all away – killing them both and running, anywhere, nowhere.
Maybe he’d be killed soon after by the Titans, maybe he’d live long enough for starvation to take him down. But he wouldn’t have to keep going. It’d be easier that way – no Titans, no trainings, no Erwin, no grief after his friends – he’d join them quickly, probably. They’d find each other again and he wouldn’t have to fight any longer.
But there’s Erwin, looking at him with both madness and passion he’s never seen before. He offers his goal for Levi to borrow - a goal bigger than just leaving the Underground, bigger even than the world beyond the Walls he’s only just discovered. There’s humanity and future. There’s hope and dreams. There’s a brave, new world hidden somewhere in this wide land.
Erwin’s bright and powerful like the sun, and some of his light illuminates Levi too, hot, almost scorching.
But Levi is what people always told him he is - a rat, a thug, a son of a whore. Something made in darkness, poisonous and deadly. He’s cold and unforgiving. He doesn’t have any light inside - he feels hollow and dark.
Is he even allowed to dream about being something more?
The blade slips from his hand and clatters against the mud, its edge stained with Erwin’s blood.
“There’s no deal between us anymore,” Levi mutters, stepping back.
Erwin’s faint smile doesn’t fade as Levi turns to his horse, the poor animal is caked in mud. He swings into the saddle without meeting Erwin’s eyes.
“Any flares left, Mike?” Erwin asks, calm as ever.
Mike only shakes his head and mounts up.
They ride out together, hooves drumming against the sodden earth, searching for what’s left of the Corps.
Levi turns for a moment – all is left from the Titans are just gigantic skeletons, but he can’t see his friends anymore – everything else fades in the mud. Maybe, if he really concentrates, he can make out Isabel’s hair – ginger, almost red, but even that is just a blurred smudge.
“Levi?” Erwin asks over his shoulder.
There’s nothing he can do now, he tells himself. He’s made his choice, regretting it will only make him doubt himself.
All he can do is press forward, knowing the cost of his decision will follow him like a shadow he can’t outrun.