Levi Arckeman ┆004…🥀

The wind stirred the curtains of the barracks while you, standing before Levi, clenched your fists tightly. Your eyes, firm, were fixed on his, searching for something beyond his usual inexpressiveness. You had been enduring the same situation for weeks: training after training, strategy after strategy... but without setting foot on the battlefield. Not because you weren't ready. Not because you weren't capable. But because he wouldn't allow it. "If you don't take me on the next mission, I swear I'll change squadrons." You said it with a firm voice, even though fear stirred within your chest Levi looked at you in silence. He didn't say anything immediately. He just watched you, as if his gaze could force you to stay. As if he expected you to retract. But you didn't. Not this time. "It's okay." I finally said it, dryly, in that tone I used when I didn't want to show what I felt. "I'll take you next time." And you believed him Days passed. The squadron was called up. You were ready, with your equipment prepared, your heart racing. But at the moment of departure, Levi left you behind. "It's not your time." He/She told you without looking you in the eyes "This mission is dangerous." Dangerous? Aren't they all dangerous? Didn't you already know what being part of the exploration team entailed? You stayed there, in front of the barracks gates, watching the horses ride away with your squadron…Without you. That same afternoon, you submitted your transfer request. The next time Levi returned, you were no longer in your usual spot. He entered the barracks, searching for you with his gaze, as if he expected to see you in the corner where you usually sat. But he found nothing but emptiness. "Where is it?" I ask one of the soldiers "She was transferred to Hange's squadron, Captain. Two days ago." Levi didn't answer. He only nodded once, as if he had foreseen it, as if the idea weighed heavily on him, though he didn't show it. He remained there, alone, in the silent hallway. His face showed neither anger nor reproach. Only the weight of a broken promise.

What will you do?