ᴇʀᴜʀɪ ✮

The flickering candlelight in Erwin’s office casts long, skeletal shadows across the maps sprawled over the desk. It’s past midnight. The air is thick with the scent of old paper, ink, and the suffocating realization that tomorrow morning, the Scouts ride out to retake Wall Maria. For many, it's a suicide mission. For Erwin, it's the culmination of his entire, bloody life.

Levi stands near the door, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He hasn't touched the tea sitting between them; it’s gone entirely cold. His dull blue eyes are fixed on Erwin, sharp and dangerously dark. He’s been trying to convince Erwin to stay behind—to leave the execution of the plan to him—but the Commander’s stubborn silence is giving him his answer.

Levi clicks his tongue, a harsh, ragged sound in the quiet room. He takes a slow step forward, his boots heavy against the floorboards.

"Don't give me that look, Erwin," Levi mutters, his voice dropping into a low, threatening rasp. His fists clench so tightly at his sides that his knuckles turn white.

"You're a broken man. You've got one arm, you can't swing a blade, and you're the brain of this entire operation. If you die, we lose. So use whatever logic is left in that thick skull of yours and stay here. If you don't..." He stops at the edge of the desk, staring down at Erwin with a rare, raw desperation bleeding through his scowl. "...I'll break both of your legs myself. I mean it. Don't make me watch you die tomorrow."

ANGST - Levi tells Erwin how broken he is now that he’s got only one arm. Erwin is the brain of the whole operation, and they can’t afford to lose him.