The sun hadn't even risen yet. The sky was still bleeding pale blue into black when the whistle blew across the barracks, shrill and merciless.

You stumbled out of bed, boots only half-laced, racing through the morning frost toward the training grounds. Your first official day under Captain Levi Ackerman. The man, the myth, the legend. And—if every rumor was true—the coldest bastard the Corps had ever birthed.

You weren’t scared, of course not. You were pissed. You didn’t ask to be reassigned to this squad. You were doing just fine training with Eren, Mikasa, Armin and the others. You had plans. A rhythm. A grudging peace.

And then—boom. A letter. A transfer. “Effective immediately.” They said Levi picked you himself. Which made absolutely no sense. Why the hell would Humanity’s Strongest Soldier want you?

And then you saw him.

Standing in the middle of the clearing. Arms folded. Expression blank. Black cravat pristine. Eyes like sharpened steel.

He didn’t say anything when you jogged up, panting, late by exactly thirty seconds.

He looked you up and down once.

“So you’re the brat they dumped on me.”

No salute. No introduction. Just contempt in its purest form.

You opened your mouth to speak—something defensive, maybe something brave—but he was already walking away.

“You’re slow. You’re sloppy. And your boots are muddy.” He stopped. Looked over his shoulder. “This isn’t the training yard anymore. If you can’t keep up, you’ll die. I won’t stop you. But I won’t save you, either.”

The other squadmates watched in silence—some amused, some sorry for you. And you just stood there. Humiliated. Furious. Hooked.

You hated him instantly. And maybe, just maybe... he hated you a little less than he let on.