Hello, Drinor here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of Attack on Titan: A Warrior of Devils
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Chapter 32, and Chapter 33 are already available for Patrons.
Jaime stared at the dark ceiling of the Underground, counting the cracks that spiderwebbed across the stone like frozen lightning. Not that he'd ever seen real lightning, just heard about it from the older kids. The cold from the ground seeped through the threadbare blanket they'd spread beneath them, biting into his back and sending an occasional shiver up his spine.
Beside him, Arthur's stomach growled loudly enough to echo in their little corner of nowhere. The sound had become so familiar that Jaime barely noticed it anymore, like the constant dripping from leaky pipes or the distant shouts of drunks fighting over scraps.
"Jaime?" Arthur's voice was thin in the darkness, fragile as a bird's wing. "Do you think people up there have enough food?"
Jaime turned his head, meeting Arthur's wide eyes, always too big for his gaunt face, like two copper coins pressed into dough.
Jaime had never been above ground. Never felt rain on his face. But he nodded anyway, because sometimes a lie felt kinder than the truth.
"Yeah," he said, trying to sound strong. "They have all the food they need up there. That's why they're always smiling in the pictures."
Pictures torn from discarded books were their windows to that other world, the one with sunlight and grass and endless blue above instead of stone.
"Do you think..." Arthur hesitated, running a dirty finger along the edge of their shared blanket. "Do you think we'll ever go up there? See the stars and the fields everyone talks about?"
Stars. Jaime tried to imagine them, little lights hanging in darkness. It seemed impossible, but then, so did having a full stomach.
"We will," Jaime said, the words tasting like a promise. "We're not spending our whole lives in this big hole. Out there, you need coin to buy food, same as down here. We just need to take enough coins, and eventually, we'll have what we need to leave."
"But what would we even do up there?" Arthur's voice trembled.
Jaime rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. "We'll see what's out there. The world. A world bigger than this big hole they call a city."
Arthur nodded solemnly, his thin fingers clutching at the edge of the blanket. "If we ever make it out, I want to see the stars. Find out if they're really as beautiful as they say."
"We will see the stars one night," Jaime promised, his voice sounding the strongest it had ever been. "We'll be out there, and we'll look up. Instead of darkness, we'll see light, that's when we will know. We are Home."
"Jaime? Are you alright?"
The voice sliced through memory, sharp as a blade. Jaime blinked, the Underground ceiling dissolving into open sky. A sky that Arthur had never lived to see. He turned to find Mikasa watching him, her dark eyes looking at him with concern.
"You've been staring at nothing for almost two minutes," she said, her voice low enough that only he could hear.
Jaime shook his head, forcing himself back to the present. Oh, right. I'm here. The clearing outside Wall Rose spread before him, littered with what remained of the Survey Corps after today's expedition. Commander Erwin had ordered them to gather, count survivors, collect the dead. Simple tasks for an anything-but-simple day.
The wagons looked like vultures hunched over carrion, piled high with white-wrapped bundles that had been soldiers this morning. Jean and Armin moved between them, their faces drawn tight with exhaustion as they loaded another body. Each white shape represented a life snuffed out because of Annie. Because of choices she'd made. Because of secrets she'd kept.
His purple eyes drifted to one particular bundle, indistinguishable from the others in its white shroud. Only it wasn't a corpse. It was Annie, wrapped in cloth to disguise her capture from prying eyes. Levi had been clear: nobody outside their small circle was to know who the Female Titan had been. Not yet.
"I'm fine," Jaime told Mikasa, the lie sounding hollow even to his own ears. "Have you seen Krista or Ymir anywhere?"
Before Mikasa could answer, a familiar voice cut through the somber murmurs of the clearing.
"Jaime!"
The voice cut through his dark thoughts like sunlight through storm clouds. He turned to see Krista riding toward him, her golden hair streaming behind her like a battle standard. The sight of her, alive, loosened something tight in his chest. She was like the sun.
Ymir followed close behind, her tall frame slouched in the saddle with practiced nonchalance that couldn't quite hide the relief in her eyes.
He dismounted as Krista reached him, his boots hitting the ground with a thud that sent a jolt of pain through his bruised ribs a souvenir from his dance with Annie. Krista practically flew from her horse, crossing the distance between them in a blur of blonde hair and green cloak.
Their collision knocked the air from his lungs, her arms wrapping around his torso with surprising strength for someone so small. The embrace smelled of horse and sweat and blood.
"Thank god you're alive," she whispered against his shoulder, her voice vibrating through his chest. "When we heard the right wing was decimated, I thought—I thought—"
"Hey. I told you I would return, I will never leave you, Krista." Jaime said, his voice tight with emotion as he kissed her cheek, and she did the same, her lips on his cheek, hugging him tightly, eventually, they heard someone making a sound, a sound of someone who was clearly annoyed at the sight, and they looked up to see Ymri looming above them like a Titan, an ugly one with ugly freckles.
"Save that kind of hug for your girlfriend, shorty," Ymir drawled as she dismounted, her lazy smirk not quite reaching her eyes. "Not mine."
The words hit Jaime like a punch. Girlfriend. Annie's face flashed through his mind, not the monster who had crushed bodies and splintered trees, but the girl who had smiled at him three nights ago over tea, who had traced the scar on his forehead with gentle fingers, who had whispered "Be careful," the girl who told him not to play hero.
Jaime suddenly felt lightheaded. The ground seemed to tilt beneath his feet, the sky spinning above him like a child's top.
"Jaime?" Krista pulled back, her blue eyes widening as she studied his face. "You've gone white as snow. What happened out there?"
Ymir's smirk faltered, genuine concern breaking through her indifference. "Hey, I was just giving you shit. I didn't mean—"
"I'm glad you're alright too, Ymir," Jaime cut her off, forcing the words past the tightness in his throat. His voice sounded strange to his own ears, like it was coming from somewhere far away. He turned to Krista, squeezing her shoulders gently. "Be careful. We're still in Titan territory."
Krista didn't look convinced. Her eyes—too perceptive by half—searched his face. "You're injured."
"Nothing serious." The lie came easily.
"Bullshit," Ymir said, stepping closer. "You've got that look."
"What look?" Jaime asked, forcing his lips into something resembling a smile.
"The one you get when you're hiding something painful," Ymir replied, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "The same one you had after Marco died."
The comparison stole what little composure Jaime had left. His smile crumbled like dry clay, and for a terrifying moment, he thought he might actually break down right there in the clearing, surrounded by the dead and dying. He swallowed hard, forcing the storm back down where it belonged.
"Forty-nine dead," he said, the number bitter on his tongue. "Good people. That's what happened."
Krista's eyes filled with tears. "I heard Captain Doun was the only survivor from Southern Group. Is that true?"
Jaime nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "There was an abnormal—" He stopped himself, remembering that he couldn't mention Annie's Titan form. "Several abnormals. They came out of nowhere."
"The right flank got completely overrun," Krista said, her eyes darting nervously toward the tree line. "If Captain Kruger hadn't pulled us back when he did—"
"Did you see it?" Ymir interrupted, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "The Female Titan? I heard there was a Titan that looked female,"
"I saw a lot of Titans today," he said carefully.
Before Ymir could press further, rapid footsteps approached from behind. Jaime turned to see Sasha running toward them, her ponytail bouncing wildly with each step. Her uniform was splattered with mud.
"You're all alive!" she exclaimed, skidding to a stop beside them. Her eyes were wide, darting constantly toward the distant tree line. "When are we leaving? We need to go before it comes back!"
Ymir raised an eyebrow. "Before what comes back?"
"The Spider Titan!" Sasha's voice rose to a near-shriek, drawing curious glances from nearby soldiers. "It attacked our squad! Ran like a freaking spider—eight legs and everything!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Ymir asked, looking at Sasha like she'd lost her mind.
Sasha grabbed Jaime's arm, her fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket. "It moved on all fours, but not like a normal Titan. Its arms bent backwards like—like extra legs! And it was fast, so fast!" Her face had gone pale beneath the dirt and blood. "It ate Jonas and Mark. Just—just snatched them right off their horses."
Jaime gently pried her fingers from his arm. "Sasha, breathe. It was just an abnormal."
"No, no, no!" Sasha shook her head violently. "You didn't see it! This wasn't like other abnormals. It moved wrong, it was too fast."
"Did anyone kill it?" Krista asked, placing a comforting hand on Sasha's shoulder.
Sasha shook her head. "Section Commander Mike tried, but it moved too erratically. It disappeared into the forest after—after it was done feeding."
Levi
Levi could feel a headache building behind his right eye. Hange was talking animatedly, her hands sketching patterns in the air as if she could conjure understanding from nothing.
"—must have had a change of heart after encountering Jaime," she was saying, her eyes bright with that manic energy that always seemed to intensify after a mission, successful or not. "She stopped killing. Started disabling ODM gear instead. You have to admit that's significant."
Levi's jaw tightened. "Go tell that to the families of the forty-nine soldiers who didn't make it back today. I'm sure they'll find it very significant that she could have killed more but chose not to."
Hange's expression didn't falter. "I'm just saying it confirms what we suspected. Despite everything, Annie Leonhart has a weak point." She gestured subtly toward where Jaime stood with the blonde girl and her tall, freckled companion. "And he's it."
Mike sniffed deeply, a habit Levi had never quite gotten used to. "The boy could get information from her that we can't," he rumbled. "If there's still some humanity in her, he might be able to reach it."
"Right now, Jaime is a mess," Levi said flatly. "He's holding himself together by sheer force of will because we're still in Titan territory. But once we're behind the walls..." He let the sentence hang.
"How can you be sure?" Hange asked, her head tilting curiously.
Levi met her gaze steadily. "Because I've seen that look before. It's the look that comes before the storm."
A soldier approached, interrupting their conversation. His uniform was caked with mud and what might have been blood, and his eyes had the hollow look of someone who'd seen too much in too short a time.
"Commander," he saluted Erwin. "We found what was left of three more bodies near the western approach. We've searched the entire perimeter. There's nothing else to find."
Erwin nodded, his expression grim, but his eyes carrying that gleam Levi had come to recognize. "Thank you, Soldier. Prepare to move out."
As the soldier departed, Erwin turned to Levi. "Have your squad ride close to the prisoner wagon. If she tries anything, I want our best soldiers ready to respond."
Levi nodded, already scanning the clearing for his team. Petra was helping Gunther onto his horse, his splinted leg awkward against the saddle. Oluo and Eld were checking the bindings on the wagon, ensuring their prisoner wouldn't shift during transport.
And Eren... Eren was sleeping in a nearby wagon. The kid was tired and needed his rest.
"Was it worth it?" Levi asked, his voice quiet.
Erwin's eyes swept over the white bundles in the wagons, his expression unreadable as he considered the families waiting at the gates and the secrets Annie Leonhart might be carrying.
"Ask me after we find out what she knows," Erwin replied, his voice flat. "And who else is hiding among us."
Armin and Jean
The wagon wheels creaked rhythmically as the remnants of the Survey Corps made their slow procession back toward Wall Rose. Jean and Armin rode side by side, far enough from the main column to speak without being overheard.
"We should tell Commander Erwin as soon as we're inside the walls," Jean said, keeping his voice low despite the distance between them and the others. "If our suspicions are right—"
"They are," Armin interrupted, his blue eyes fixed on the horizon. "The evidence is overwhelming, Jean. The Female Titan is Annie Leonhart."
Jean winced at hearing it stated so plainly, as if the words themselves might summon more disaster. "We don't know that for certain."
"I saw her reaction when I mentioned Jaime was dead," Armin replied, his voice uncharacteristically hard. "No other shifter would react like that."
The horses plodded onward, their steady rhythm a counterpoint to the chaos of Jean's thoughts. He glanced ahead to where Jaime rode alongside Ymir and Krista, his purple eyes fixed on some point beyond the horizon.
"If we're right," Jean said quietly, "Jaime's going to be devastated. You saw how he looked at her during training. How he still looks at her."
Armin's expression softened slightly. "That's exactly why we need to be sure before we say anything. But it also might be useful."
"Useful?" Jean frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"If Annie is a Titan shifter, she's not working alone." Armin's voice dropped even lower. "The Colossal Titan and Armored Titan appeared together. That suggests coordination, planning. They're working together."
Jean felt a chill. "You think there are more infiltrators in our ranks?"
"I think if we capture Annie, it could force whoever else is with her to reveal themselves," Armin said. "People act rashly when their allies are threatened."
"That's a dangerous game, Armin."
"This whole thing is a dangerous game," Armin replied, a flash of frustration breaking through his usual calm. "Forty-nine soldiers died today. If there are more traitors among us, how many more will die tomorrow? Or the next day?"
Jean had no answer for that. They rode in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts as the wall grew larger on the horizon. The sun was sinking lower, casting long shadows across the grasslands and turning the sky to flame.
"How do you think they did it?" Jean finally asked. "Infiltrated our ranks, I mean."
Armin's brow furrowed in thought. "Five years ago, after Wall Maria fell, thousands of refugees flooded into the inner walls. It would have been the perfect cover to slip in unnoticed."
"And then join the military," Jean continued, following the thread. "Hide in plain sight among other recruits."
"Exactly. And who would question teenagers wanting to fight back against the Titans that destroyed their homes?"
The irony wasn't lost on Jean. He opened his mouth to respond but stopped as he noticed two riders approaching from their left flank.
"Reiner. Bertholdt," he acknowledged as they drew alongside.
"You two look deep in conversation," Reiner said, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the setting sun. "Planning your victory celebrations for when we get back?"
"Just discussing what went wrong," Armin replied smoothly. "The formation was solid, but something drew those Titans to the right flank."
Bertholdt shifted uncomfortably in his saddle, his tall frame hunched as if trying to make himself smaller. "We heard the Female Titan escaped," he said, his voice unusually quiet. "After all that."
"That's what they're saying," Jean confirmed, sounding furious. "Commander Erwin doesn't seem too bothered by it though."
"I wonder where she went," Reiner mused, scanning the horizon as if the Female Titan might appear at any moment. "Or who she is."
"Probably long gone by now," Armin said. "Captain Levi was furious. I've never seen him so angry."
"Jaime seems a little lost. I tried to speak with him, but he does not seem in the mood to talk," Reiner pointed out, looking back at Jean and Armin as he said it, before looking forward at Jaime.
"Most of his team are dead, Reiner." Jean said, sounding annoyed that he had to point that out. "You know how he is, he used to cook for us during our Cadet Years just so we can have better food, Jaime takes these things very personally, especially after what happened to Marco." Jean added, with pain in his eyes, and Reiner too looked hurt in that moment.
"Do not worry, Jean. We will capture the Female Titan for Marco, and everyone else." Reiner said passionately, and Armin saw a strange look of concern on Berholdt's face, and he wondered what that was about.
Jaime
Jaime's horse trudged along the cobblestone path leading to the gate of Karanes District, its hooves striking a hollow rhythm that matched the emptiness spreading through his chest.
The setting sun cast the walls in shades of blood and fire, turning the stone to amber as they approached. Jaime kept his eyes fixed on the space between his horse's ears, finding it easier than meeting the gazes of those who had gathered to witness their return. He knew what he would see there: disappointment, disgust, the silent accusation of failure.
In his peripheral vision, he could see Eren slumped in the wagon nearby. The Titan shifter had been drifting in and out of consciousness since his transformation. Jaime envied him the reprieve of unconsciousness. At least in sleep, Eren didn't have to think about Annie, about what she'd done, about what they'd done to her.
The wagon bearing Annie's bound form rolled ahead of them, guarded by Levi and his squad. If he focused, Jaime could just make out the shape beneath the shroud, smaller than the other covered bodies. He forced his gaze away before the lump in his throat could grow any larger.
"Look at them," a voice rose from the gathering crowd as they passed through the gate. "Another failure."
"How many died this time?" another called.
Jaime's fingers tightened on the reins, his knuckles whitening with the strain of keeping his expression neutral. The questions continued, growing louder as they proceeded deeper into the district.
"My taxes pay for this?" A heavyset merchant spat on the ground as they passed. "What a waste."
"They should disband the whole Corps," his companion agreed. "Throwing good money after bad."
Each word felt like a slap in the face. Jaime's jaw clenched so tightly he could hear his teeth grinding together. These people, safe behind their walls, had no idea what it cost to venture beyond them. No concept of what soldiers sacrificed to secure even the smallest victory.
He thought of Elena, who would never return to her son Matthias. Of Gunther, whose broken legs might end his career. Of the forty-eight others whose names would be carved into memorial stones, remembered only by those who had fought beside them.
And for what? So these civilians could complain about their tax money?
A muscle twitched in Jaime's cheek. He wanted to turn his horse, to face these critics and ask if they'd ever seen a Titan up close. If they'd ever felt the earth shake beneath their monstrous footsteps or smelled the copper-sweet scent of blood in the air. If they'd ever watched a friend die.
But what good would it do? Their ignorance was a luxury bought with soldiers' lives, and no amount of shouting would make them understand the price of their safety.
Movement from the wagon caught his attention. Eren was stirring, pushing himself upright with a grimace. His green eyes widened as the voices of the crowd reached him, something dangerous flashing in their depths.
Here we go, Jaime thought wearily. Eren's temper was legendary, and after the day they'd had, his fuse would be nonexistent. The last thing they needed was a public outburst.
Jaime nudged his horse closer to the wagon, preparing to intervene. "Eren—" he began, but the warning died on his lips as Eren froze, his attention caught by something in the crowd.
Following his gaze, Jaime spotted them—two children, a boy and a girl, no older than eight, standing at the edge of the gathering. Unlike the adults around them, their eyes held no judgment, only awe. The boy clutched a small wooden sword, and the girl wore a green cape fashioned from what looked like an old blanket.
"Look," the boy whispered, not bothering to hide his excitement. "It's the Survey Corps! Real heroes!"
"Which one do you think killed the most Titans?" the girl asked, bouncing on her toes for a better view.
Eren's mouth, which had opened to shout, slowly closed. The fury in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something that Jaime recognized all too well. It was the look of someone remembering why they fought, why they risked everything beyond the walls.
The moment passed as quickly as it had come. Eren sank back into the wagon, his outburst averted, and Jaime's attention returned to the path ahead.
Learn or die, brat. No third option.
Today, they had learned something valuable: the enemy had a face, a name, a past intertwined with their own. And despite everything—despite the betrayal that cut deeper than any blade—Jaime couldn't bring himself to hate her. Not completely. Not yet.
.
.
The door closed behind Jaime. His quarters—sparse, military-issue, with nothing to mark them as his except for a single sketch of the training grounds pinned above the desk—suddenly felt both too small and impossibly vast.
His hands moved on their own, turning the key in the lock. The sound of metal against metal scraped against his nerves like flint striking steel, sparking memories he'd rather keep buried.
The room tilted sideways for a moment, forcing him to brace against the wall. Exhaustion pulled at his limbs, making them feel leaden and foreign, as if they belonged to someone else. As if the body standing here wasn't truly his.
Annie's face floated before his mind's eye. Her rare smile, the one she reserved only for him, spreading slowly across features usually set in careful neutrality. Her eyes, blue as winter sky, softening when they met his.
"You're too reckless," she had told him once during training, binding a sprained wrist with careful hands. "Always throwing yourself into danger like you've got something to prove."
His first kiss had tasted like the honey tea she'd been drinking. She had frozen at the contact, eyes widening in surprise before softening into something warmer. Her hand had come up to rest against his chest, not pushing away but to feel his heart.
Jaime's fist connected with the wall before he registered moving; pain shot through his arm. The plaster cracked like ice breaking over a winter pond, splinters of white falling to the floor like snow.
Their first time together had been fumbling, awkward, full of nervous laughter and whispered apologies. But there had been tenderness too, in the way she had guided his hands, in the trust that had allowed her to be vulnerable with him when vulnerability was something Annie rarely permitted herself.
Another punch, harder this time. The wall caved inward, leaving a hole the size of his fist. Dust motes danced in the air, illuminated by the single lantern on his bedside table.
"Don't try to be a hero," she had warned him before the expedition, her eyes haunted by something he hadn't understood then.
The bookshelf was next, swept clean with a single violent motion. Books, papers, and the few personal items he'd collected during his time. All crashed to the floor.
And still the memories came, relentless as Titans.
Annie teaching him her fighting stance.
Crack—the desk chair splintered beneath his hands.
Annie laughing at some dry comment he'd made, the sound rare and precious as diamond.
Snap—the bedpost broke clean in half.
Annie's body arching beneath his, her breath hot against his neck, her hands tangled in his hair.
Crash—the mirror exploded into a thousand gleaming shards, each reflecting a fractured image of wild purple eyes and bleeding knuckles.
"Stop," Jaime whispered to the empty room, to the ghosts crowding his mind. "Just stop."
But the images kept shifting, distorting. Annie's smile morphing into the expressionless mask of the Female Titan. Her delicate hands becoming massive, crystalline fists that crashed through trees and bones. Her voice, always so measured and controlled, transforming into that inhuman scream that had summoned death to their ranks.
Forty-nine soldiers dead. Forty-nine families shattered. Forty-nine futures erased.
Because of her choices. Because of her secrets.
Because he hadn't seen what was right in front of him.
The lantern joined the wreckage, plunging the room into darkness broken only by thin strips of moonlight filtering through the shuttered window. Jaime sank to his knees amid the destruction, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps that felt like swallowing glass.
"I want it to end," he said into the darkness, his voice sounding alien to his own ears. "Arthur. Annie. Marco." Each name was a knife turning in his chest. "I want all of it to end."
The taste of copper filled his mouth; he'd bitten his tongue without realizing it. The metallic flavor filled his mouth, and suddenly, he was no longer there. The Underground. Arthur's cooling body.
Blood and meat. Teeth tearing flesh. Survival at any cost.
Learn or die, brat. No third option.
Jaime closed his eyes, just for a moment, and felt a rush of electricity through his body.
Jaime's eyes flew open. Soft sheets beneath him. Sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains. The pain was gone.
And Annie—Annie—sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with those blue eyes he'd fallen into countless times.
"Where am I?" he croaked, pushing himself upright, head spinning with disorientation.
"Our quarters," Annie said, her head tilting slightly. "You must be tired. The expedition was a long one."
A headache bloomed behind his eyes. "What... what happened?"
Annie's brow furrowed, something strange flickering across her expression. "You captured the traitor. You were telling me about it when you fell asleep." Her fingers traced idle patterns on the blanket. "You've been sleeping for a long time."
"The traitor?" Jaime struggled to organize his thoughts, which seemed to slip through his fingers like water. "Who was it?"
"Mikasa," she said finally. "You captured Mikasa Ackerman."
The name made his stomach turn. "Mikasa? That doesn't make sense."
"I know," Annie agreed, reaching out to brush hair from his forehead. Her warm touch made him lean against her hand. "She was the last person I thought would be the enemy. But the evidence was overwhelming."
A sharp pain lanced through Jaime's head, accompanied by an echo: "Jaime! Fight! Don't give up!"
Annie's voice, but not the Annie sitting beside him.
"This is wrong," he said, pulling away from her touch. "Mikasa can't be the enemy."
"Why can't you accept the truth?" Annie asked, her tone hardening. "After everything she did?"
Jaime looked up and froze. She remained Annie; she was a person, a beautiful person, but her face was all wrong. It was her. It was the Female Titan's face on her human body.
"I can't accept this," he whispered, bile rising in his throat.
Annie's expression darkened, a flicker of anger crossing her distorted features. "You should accept the truth, Jaime. Mikasa's friendship was all a lie."
"Mikasa didn't do this for fun," he insisted, the wrongness of the situation growing more acute with each passing second. "There's more to this."
The anger drained from Annie's face, replaced by something that might have been defeat. She sighed, the sound oddly hollow, and moved closer to him on the bed. Her arms wrapped around him.
"Try to understand, Jaime," she murmured, her lips against his ear. "Try to understand."
.
.
Annie Leonhart woke to darkness and pain.
Her arms were wrenched behind her back, wrists bound so tightly the rope bit into flesh, legs secured to what felt like wooden chair legs. Throbbing pain in her severed wrists, now partially regenerated but still incomplete; the dull ache of exhaustion that permeated every muscle; the coppery taste of blood lingering on her tongue.
Finally, memory returned. The forest. The capture. Jaime's face as he pulled her from the dissolving flesh of her Titan form, his purple eyes holding more hurt than hatred as he severed her hands with a single strike. His apology to her.
A small sound escaped her throat, something between a laugh and a groan. After everything she'd done, all her planning and training, to be defeated by the one person she'd never wanted to fight.
Father, I'm sorry. I've failed.
The thought brought a fresh wave of despair. Her father would never know what had happened to her. Would never understand why she hadn't returned. Would wait forever by their door, watching the road for a daughter who would never come home.
Annie shifted slightly, testing her bonds. The ropes held firm, professional work. Not that it mattered—even if she could free herself, what then? A single lantern cast weak yellow light across what appeared to be a stone floor. No windows. The musty smell of earth and old mortar.
Underground, then. Far enough beneath the surface that transformation would be suicide, her Titan form crushed by tons of earth and stone before she could make any progress toward freedom.
No possibility of sunlight. No chance of escape.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she whispered to the empty cell. They weren't supposed to capture her. Reiner and Bertholdt weren't supposed to leave her behind. She wasn't supposed to face Jaime in battle.
So many things that weren't supposed to happen. So many plans that had fallen apart.
"Plans never survive contact with the enemy," her father had warned her. "The key is to adapt faster than they do."
But she hadn't adapted quickly enough. Hadn't anticipated the trap in the forest. Hadn't expected Jaime's unorthodox attack through her Titan's mouth. Hadn't been prepared for the look in his eyes when he realized the truth about her.
A metallic scrape cut through her thoughts—a key turning in a lock. Annie raised her head, squinting against the sudden shaft of brighter light as the cell door swung open.
A silhouette stood framed in the doorway, features obscured by backlighting. But Annie didn't need to see his face to recognize him. The set of his shoulders, the way he held himself, the faint scent of pine soap that always clung to his skin. She knew him better than she knew herself.
"Annie."
His voice was softer than she expected, carrying none of the rage she deserved. Just exhaustion.
As he stepped into the lantern light, she saw his face clearly for the first time. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and a fresh cut marked his cheekbone where she'd struck him during their battle. His uniform had been replaced with a clean one.
Those extraordinary purple eyes—the first thing she'd noticed about him during training, the last thing she'd seen before Levi rendered her unconscious—fixed on her with such strength that made her want to look away. But she didn't. She owed him that much, at least.
"Jaime," she acknowledged, her voice rasping from disuse.
He stood just inside the doorway, hands at his sides, regarding her with an expression she couldn't quite decipher. Not hatred. Not pity.
"We need to talk," he said finally.
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