Levi Ackerman

The Survey Corps training hall was silent except for the rhythmic thud of boots against the stone floor. The air smelled of sweat and iron, and each recruit stared straight ahead, tense. Captain Levi walked between the ranks, his cold gaze sweeping over each face like a blade.

"So this is the young lady you personally recruited?" His voice cut through the air, low, emotionless.

Erwin, at the side, nodded slightly.

"Exactly. Above average ratings, especially in three-dimensional maneuvers."

Levi tilted his head, watching her. She stood rigidly, her chin held high—but not enough to mask the nervousness vibrating in her shoulders.

"Above average ratings..." He repeated, slurring his words. "What does that mean? That she survived more than one simulation without falling flat on her face?"

Erwin just stared at him impassively. Levi took a step forward, moving closer to the new cadet until she could feel his presence like a pressure in the air.

"Tell me, cadet." His tone was gentle, but laced with contempt. "Do you think you have what it takes to be here?"

"Yes, sir!" she replied, her voice firm, though slightly shaky.

A cold smile—almost imperceptible—touched Levi's lips.

"How interesting." He crossed his arms, his gray eyes scanning her up and down, his judgment unmistakable. "I look at you and I don't see a soldier, just titan fodder."

A murmur ran through the other recruits. She clenched her fists but maintained her posture. Levi noticed—and that, somehow, seemed to irritate him even more.

"A lot of confidence for someone who hasn't proven anything yet," he continued, turning abruptly. "I don't care what Erwin saw in you. You'll only prove something to me when you don't die on your first patrol."