Chapter Text
There are rumors.
“Did you hear?”
“What?”
“They’re saying he didn’t die!”
“That’s bull. They held a funeral for him and everything.”
“No, no. It’s all distraction. They don’t want us to know the truth.”
“Which is?”
“That he went all the way beyond the land beyond the walls!”
There are rumors all around town.
Levi hears of them- snippets at first, whispered half-words that he doesn’t really have the time to pay attention to, what with how busy he is in dealing with the aftermath of their mission to take back Shighanshina. He’s too busy filling in for the gaps left in the chain of command after the previous mission, covering for his commander, their commander, he corrects himself, until Hange has recovered enough and ready to take his place.
Take his place.
The thought itself brings him to a stuttering halt, causing some pedestrians behind him to abruptly bump into each other. One of them, a balding old man in his forties, raises his voice, “What’s the big idea, runt..!?”
“Huh?”
“A soldier eh?” The man sneers at the wings on his back. “What are you doing back behind the walls? Where’s your commander? Is he too afraid to show his face after your pathetic loss?”
“What did you just say?”
The man dares not swallow his spit, let alone look down at the blade that he senses at his jugular. The murderous intent in the black haired man’s eyes, more than the sharpness of the knife against his skin, has him apologizing in fear of his life. “S-Sorry!”
The blade disappears as fast as it had appeared, and the man’s companion drags him away before he says or does something else that sets off the short-tempered soldier. “You idiot! That’s Captain Levi!” Levi hears them whisper as they stumble away. He decides to not pay any attention to them, but seeing as how they’re headed the same way, he can’t help but overhear their conversation.
“So what? He can’t just do whatever he wants!”
“He can! The only one he listened to, Commander Smith, is dead now. Who knows what the wild dog will do now without its master?”
It’s not the first time anyone’s called him a wild dog. In all his time serving in the force, he’s heard that quite a few times. And he’s heard worse- the Commander’s lapdog, Smith’s pet, among many. They’re not very clever, and they’re not very accurate. So he let them slide. It’s easy to ignore, at least it used to be, with Erwin gripping his shoulder reassuringly, holding him back without a word, with just a look.
But now he isn’t here, and Levi can’t find it in himself to allow people to badmouth him in his absence.
“He’s not dead!” He yells at their retreating back. His outburst has them doubling down in their rush to escape his wrath.
With a frustrated huff, Levi resumes his journey to the marketplace.
Without Erwin’s clear and precise instructions, the whole squad was pretty much useless. Hange was a mess too. And it was upto to him to hold down the fort until Erwin was back with them.
Because Erwin wasn’t dead.
He was out there.
Somewhere.
He could sense it.
In his blood, in his soul, no- deeper than that. It went beyond logic and reasoning.
He just knew it.
Erwin wasn’t dead.
Levi just needed to wait for him.
Something hits him then, and he whirls around, thinking those goons from earlier had dared to throw trash at him.
His attention is, however, caught by the sudden barrage of papers that starts raining down from above. Surprised, he looks up to try to catch whoever is littering the streets with their stupid propaganda. But the sun is too bright- he has to shield his eyes, yet he can’t make out anyone in the balconies or tower-windows that could’ve been responsible.
He grabs a stray parchment as it flutters close to him, and squints at the text. The writing is in the common tongue, but the lettering is foreign to him, as is the watermark on the parchment. Thinking it to be some elaborate prank or an extravagant advertisement of some sort that isn’t of concern to him, Levi tosses it away and resumes his journey back to the barracks.
But he can barely make it two steps past the crowd gathered at the town square. Seeing as how it was a weekend, the streets were already packed with vendors and customers, and now it seems that the papers had managed to add fuel to the fire. There are murmurs and hushed whispers, and eyes that sneak peeks at him, then look away before he has a chance to glare at them.
Annoyed, Levi ducks into an alleyway, and waits until a gap opens up through which he can fit through without needing to elbow past excited pedestrians. Tapping his foot in boredom, Levi picks up a stray parchment from the road, and takes a proper look at the text.
“Paridisians,
It is with my deepest regret that I must inform you of the truth of the world:
Your government has been lying to you. Your church has been lying to you. Your queen has been lying to you.
You are not alone.
There is a world beyond the wall.
A world of endless seas. And endless lands.
Lands of fire, and lands of sand, and lands of ice.
Greenery, unbound.
Food, in abundance.
The walls- they are not here to protect you from the titans.
No, they’re meant to cage you in.
They’re meant to keep you from all the riches, of wealth- just waiting for you, beyond the walls, beyond the sea.
But there is still hope.
You can still have it- freedom, food, wealth, knowledge, power- anything you can think of. Anything you can dream of.
All you need to do- is reach out.
Denounce the liars and skeptics and criminals and tyrants that would deprive you of these gifts. Rise up, my fellow Paridisians.
Fight, my fellow Paridisians.
And join us, in Marley, where we can see to your dreams being recognized.
Dedicate your hearts!
Together, we can overthrow the system!”
Disbelief and shock colors his face, and Levi looks up, past the buildings, past the belltowers, and spots something beyond the walls, high up near the clouds- a giant construct that looks like a balloon of some sort, floating hundreds of feet above them. That’s where the pamphlets were coming from, Levi realizes with growing horror, and with shaky hands, he looks down at the paper in his hands.
The signature at the bottom of the paper is one that is engraved in his heart. His cold, frozen, hopeless heart, that starts beating again.
“-Erwin Smith
Warchief, Marley Army.”