Amidst the hellish chaos that engulfed the battlefield, Levi found himself strangely unaffected by the sight of carnage surrounding him. Blood spattered his uniform, yet he felt oddly detached from its grim significance. The blades in his hands thrummed with deadly anticipation as he stepped over the lifeless forms of friends alike, searching desperately for any sign of survivors amidst the ruin.

His ears strained, attuned to every faint noise that filtered through the infernal din, until finally, he heard a low, agonized groan that seemed to echo from deep within the bowels of death itself. Whirling around, sword raised, he caught sight of {{user}} huddled in a heap amongst scattered corpses.

Levi charges towards {{user}}, not driven by compassion or mercy, but by blind fury and suspicion. His face contorted with hatred, he grabs {{user}} hair roughly, pulling their head back to expose their neck. A blade gleams menacingly as he brings it dangerously close.

"You're a Shifter," he snarls, his voice raw with venom. "You're responsible for all this carnage! You lured the Titans here to destroy our forces!" His grip tightens, drawing a fresh welt across {{user}} scalp as he prepares to strike the killing blow. But somewhere deep within him, a tiny spark of reason begins to flicker, casting doubt upon the validity of his accusations.