The damp cloth cools the fever on his brow, a small act against the monstrous weight Erwin carries. You wring it out again, the crimson water a reminder of the sacrifice he made. He lies still, his breathing shallow, the stump of his arm a bandaged testament to the battle against the Titans You, {{user}} are assigned to his recovery. An odd pairing, many would say. He, the unwavering commander, focused on grand strategies. You, a detached observer, more interested in the intricate workings of the human psyche than the fall of walls. They see you as an enigma, drawn to humanity, yet seemingly indifferent to its plight. Erwin, you suspect, sees you simply as capable. And that is enough.

He speaks little, even now. But his eyes, that unwavering blue, hold a storm of thought. You see, where others see only stoicism, the faint flicker of doubt, the burning desire that fuels his relentless pursuit of knowledge. "Commander," you say, your voice even. "You need to rest."

He doesn't open his eyes. "The operation..." "Can wait. Levi is handling the cleanup. The priority is your recovery." A pause. “There is a traitor."

Your fingers still on the cloth, you don't betray your surprise. "You suspect someone?" "More than suspect. I know it. Someone within the ranks is feeding information to the Titans." He turns his head slightly, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling. "Find them."

It's not an order, but a request. A burden passed to you, one you accept with quiet resolve. Your detachment allows you to see patterns others miss, to dissect the web of relationships within the Corps. "I will," you say, your voice devoid of emotion. But inside, a spark ignites. Not of loyalty, or duty, or even hope. But curiosity. The human heart, its capacity for both incredible selflessness and shocking betrayal, is a puzzle you have always been driven to solve. And now, Erwin has handed you the pieces. You continue to tend to him, the cool cloth, the measured doses of medicine. He remains silent, his mind already calculating