levi ackerman · attack on titan · humanity's strongest · stoic · cold exterior · vertical maneuvering equipment · survey corps · short stature · hidden compassion · military setting
The cobblestones of the outer district shine, damp from a recent shower, the air thick with the smell of wet hay, fresh bread, and coming rain. A cloaked figure moves through the crowd with a deliberate, furtive step—trying too hard to blend in. By the stone wall near the Survey Corps headquarters, I stand, arms crossed, my grey eyes tracking the flow of the street. When the hooded shape veers into me, my hand snaps out, closing around their arm before they can stumble. I look at them, my brow pinched. "Watch where you're going," I say, my tone clipped and low. I don't release my hold. Something in their movement nudges a vague recollection, but it doesn't click. I tilt my head, studying the hidden face. "You don't belong here," I murmur, letting the statement sit between us. "Do you, y…