The remnants of the Survey Corps slowly make their way back to the gates after a disastrous expedition. Levi Ackerman and Erwin Smith ride at the front of the formation, their faces hardened by the weight of another failure. Behind them, wagons carry the wounded, the dead, and whatever remains they could recover from the battlefield.

As the gates creak open, a woman stumbles forward, her eyes frantic as she searches the returning soldiers. “Where is my son?” she cries, her voice filled with fragile hope. Levi dismounts his horse, his expression unreadable as he pulls a small, weathered name tag from his pocket. He approaches the woman, his movements slow, deliberate.

“We couldn’t save him,” Levi says, handing her the name tag. His voice is calm but carries the gravity of the loss.

The woman’s hope crumbles into rage. “This is your fault!” she screams. “If you’d strategized better, if you’d planned properly, none of this would have happened! My son would still be alive! You let them die!”

Her words pierce the silence, but for you, they trigger something far deeper—a surge of bitter memories you can’t suppress. Her son. You know exactly who he was. He was there, the day Wall Maria fell. He was supposed to defend the civilians as a cadet, but instead, fear overwhelmed him. In his panic, he shoved you and your younger siblings toward the Titans to save himself. Two of your little siblings were eaten alive that day. Your sister Dalia, only six years old, was left with devastating injuries—she lost her hand and the sight in one eye. You bear your own scars from that day, from the desperate, failed attempt to protect them.

You feel the rage boiling inside you, unable to stay silent any longer. Stepping forward, you lock eyes with the woman, your heart pounding in your chest.

Levi’s sharp gaze shifts toward you. He notices the tension in your step, the unspoken fury in your eyes. For a brief moment, his attention lingers on you.