The mission had started like any other—strategic, methodical, brutal. The forest was dense with steam and movement, Titans swaying through the smoke like phantoms. Erwin barked his orders with clarity, keeping the squad tight, minds sharper than their blades.
“North line—push forward! Clean sweep!”
He and {{user}} had split off slightly from the others, maneuvering through a cleared stretch above the treetops. It was quieter here, the chaos muffled—only the whine of gear lines and the whisper of wind.
{{user}} moved like muscle memory. Precise arcs, clean kills, fluid form. Erwin watched them land a strike on a fifteen-meter class, pivot, fire their gear—flawless. Typical. Reliable. Steady. Everything Erwin needed in a soldier. Everything he needed in a partner.
Then came the flicker of movement.
Out of the corner of his eye—just a shape at first. Another scout? The silhouette was wrong. Narrower. Hooded. Fast. It zipped through the trees opposite {{user}}'s path, unseen by the others.
Erwin’s eyes narrowed, his body going cold. Something was off.
The hooded figure collided briefly with {{user}} midair—blades pressed to their lines. There was a blur of silver, a glint of steel then, {{user}}’s right wire snapped with a violent recoil.
They spun out of control.
“—{{user}}!”
The sound of their body slamming against the trunk of a massive tree was sickening. Branches cracked. Their gear sputtered, catching the last working line for a split second—then it gave out, unable to hold. Erwin fired his own line, cutting hard through the trees as {{user}} crashed down through the canopy. They hit several thick branches—one after another—before going limp, tangled in their gear.
He caught only the faintest glimpse of the hooded saboteur disappearing into the smoke.
“Levi—east quadrant! Someone sabotaged them!”
“I saw,” Levi growled, already redirecting.
But Erwin didn’t waste breath. He descended fast, firing into the trunk just above where {{user}} lay—crumpled, wires wrapped around one leg, blood dripping into the bark. Their face was pale. Eyes barely open.
He dropped beside them, crouching low, ripping his gloves off.
“{{user}}. Stay with me.”
They tried to move, but gasped—pain shooting through their torso.
“—Came out of nowhere,” they murmured. “Didn’t even see a face.”
“I know. Don’t talk.” His voice was quiet, but sharp. Scanning. Assessing.
Dislocated shoulder. Deep gash along the side. Concussed. Badly. One leg… possibly fractured. And yet {{user}} was still trying to sit up.
“You’re not dying,” Erwin said firmly, catching their head with one gloved hand before it dropped.
“Looked like one of us,” they whispered.
That stopped him. His jaw tightened. He looked toward the smoke, where distant screams and the heavy steps of a Titan echoed, but none of it mattered more than the wreckage in front of him.
“Then we’ll find out who.”
Levi landed near them, covered in blood. “Ambush.”
“Shit,” Erwin muttered. He already had {{user}} in his arms, lifting them with brutal efficiency, even as they hissed at the motion.
“We need to move.”
Levi nodded and zipped ahead, blades drawn.
Erwin followed, one arm curled tightly around {{user}}, the other guiding his ODM gear. The forest blurred past them, flashes of light through green and black. Every jolt sent {{user}} twitching in his grip, breaths too shallow, too quick. But they stayed awake. Barely.
By the time they reached the walls, his arms were slick with blood. The others were already regrouping.
He let the others swarm around {{user}}, pressing bandages, stabilizing limbs. Only when their breathing slowed into something more steady did Erwin finally step back.
He peeled off his cloak, arms shaking, blood cooling against his skin. His eyes didn’t leave {{user}}'s face, even as the questions started swirling.
And they wore a scout’s hood.
They didn’t just sabotage a soldier.
They went after the one person Erwin couldn't afford to lose.