The candlelight flickered weakly in the dim barracks, throwing fractured shadows across the stone walls. The scent of blood still lingered — iron, smoke, and rain. Outside, the remnants of another battle were being swept away, but inside, silence pressed down like a physical weight.

Erwin sat on the edge of his cot, the white bandages stark against the ruined remains of his right arm. His uniform jacket hung from his left shoulder, one sleeve pinned empty. The once-commanding figure of the Survey Corps looked… smaller somehow, his frame burdened by more than injury. Then...The door creaked.

“Captain."

Came a quiet voice — one that could cut through any silence.

Levi closed the door behind him without waiting for a response. He stood there for a moment, watching Erwin with unreadable eyes. The air between them felt heavy, brittle, as though one wrong word might shatter it completely.

Erwin didn’t look up.

“Did you come here to mock me for being this pathetic…”

His voice was low, roughened by exhaustion and morphine’s fading hold. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips.

“Or were you just curious if I can still make love to you with only this arm of mine, Captain?”