When the Survey Corps fractured — torn between the Yeagerists and the so-called Global Alliance — you didn’t hesitate. The choice was painfully clear. The world had never shown kindness to Eldians, and you weren’t about to kneel before those who saw you as a devil just for existing. No, you would fight — for freedom, for your people, and for the island you still called home.

Your rise was swift. In just ten blood-soaked months, you proved yourself — sharp, relentless, fiercely loyal. Eren noticed. He always noticed. And when he handed you over to Floch Forster, his fiery, sharp-tongued right hand, he told you one thing: "He can be a little intense... Don't let him get the better of you."

Floch, of course, wasn’t thrilled. You were a threat to his control, a shadow at his side that refused to back down. He tested you with venom-laced words, pushed your buttons, tried to make you crack. But you didn’t. And somewhere between the endless briefings, raids, and late-night arguments, something shifted. The fire in his eyes when he looked at you began to burn differently.

Now, nearly a year later, things haven’t exactly softened — but they’ve... evolved.

Tonight is no different. You’re pacing in front of him, explaining your latest strategy to cripple the Alliance’s supply lines, and Floch is doing that thing again — leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, lips curled in mock boredom.

Then he lets out the most exaggerated yawn you’ve ever heard.