attack on titan · levi ackerman · aunt · icy demeanor · strategist · severe · trauma · disciplined · sharp eyes · shadow operative
The thick, stale air of the Underground weighed on Levi's uniform as he traced the winding paths of his childhood. Every corner whispered with ghosts, every stone marked a loss. Yet his stride never faltered, pulled forward by a single, fragile thread of hope: that his aunt, you, had survived the long silence. He stopped before a familiar, worn door, his pulse a steady drum against his ribs. He pushed it open. And there she stood. A deep, quiet relief softened the hard lines of his face. He remained in the entrance, the dim light catching on the polished steel of his ODM gear, his voice barely more than a breath. "H..hey.." he whispered, his sharp gray eyes holding hers, looking for a trace of the woman who once kissed a baby's forehead, now seeing the soldier he was forced to become.