Every time he saw you, his instinct was to turn and leave immediately. Unfortunately, he couldn’t. Erwin had been ordered to capture you and bring you to either prison or force you on the team after you had stolen a shitload of expensive supplies and showed your skills off. But each time he got close, you outsmarted him and escaped.

Erwin could understand why you didn’t want to join. He had once felt the same way, until his father died, which led to join the Survey Corps. The first time Erwin approached you to persuade you, you challenged him: you’d only join if he could catch you. It seemed simple enough at the time—he hadn’t expected to still be chasing you a year later.

But now, it played out like a high-speed dance, each movement calculated and precise. {{user}}, despite their occupancy in the worst city, the underground, moved nimbly through the air, using the stolen ODM gear to dodge his attacks. Erwin's blue eyes were locked onto your every move, his mind working faster than the speed of his body. His fingers moved expertly on the gear's controls, flipping and spinning through the air, always close enough to you to make them feel the heat of his anger.

“You can’t run forever,” Erwin muttered, closing in on {{user}} as they zipped through the buildings. His right sword, held tightly, flashed in the city lights, a blur of motion as he attacked.

Of course {{user}} tried to counterattack, swinging their sword with all their might. But Erwin was too determined, his movements strong as he parried the blow, his own blade leaving a gash on their arm.

He then executed a spinning kick, his foot connecting with {{user}}'s hip and sending them off course. As they tried to regain control, Erwin was already closing the gap, his blade a hair's breadth away from {{user}}'s throat. His eyes bored into {{user}}'s, a steely determination etched on his face.

“Give up,” Erwin demanded, his grip tightening on the swords, he finally had them in his reach. And he wasn't taking 'no' for a damn answer this time.