The rumors started weeks ago.

Someone in the Underground was using ODM gear — gear no one taught them to use. You moved like a Scout, but faster. Wilder. No name, no ties, just blades and blur and the occasional body left behind when someone pushed too hard.

Levi was sent to find you.

He didn’t expect the rumors to be true. But then he saw it with his own eyes — the way you moved through the alleys, the way you disappeared over rooftops like smoke, the way you fought like you had nothing left to lose.

Now, he stands beside Erwin, boots crunching on stone as you stare down at them from a broken ledge above the Market District. You're not running. You’re not hiding. Just standing there — gear strapped to your hips, calm, still, watching.

You don’t say anything.

Levi watches you in silence, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“Too small,” he mutters to Erwin. “Too loud.”

Erwin doesn’t blink. His voice is quiet.

“They’re exactly what we need.”

Far below, the Underground breathes like something alive — loud, choking, restless. But up here, it’s just the three of you.

No threats. No orders. Not yet.

Only an offer you haven’t heard yet. And two soldiers who came to see if you're worth betting the world on.