At first, you thought he was dead. His face was covered in blood, splinters embedded deep in his skin. How could this have happened? You and Hange rushed to his side, hearts pounding. Thankfully, he was still breathing—but the sight of him, so broken, twisted your chest with anguish. He was missing two fingers. One of his eyes was beyond saving. Yet in that moment, none of it mattered. He was alive—and that was all you needed. Together, you and Hange worked quickly, stitching his wounds and setting up a makeshift camp with whatever supplies you could scrounge together.

One night, while Hange slept, you kept watch by Levi’s side. Your eyelids were growing heavy when a hoarse murmur broke the silence.

"This hurts like hell... damn it."