Hello, Drinor here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of Attack on Titan: A Warrior of Devils
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Chapter 28 and Chapter 29 are already available for Patrons.
The thunder of hooves drowned out everything except Jaime's heartbeat. His copper mare, Aethra, moved beneath him, responding to the slightest shift of his weight as they galloped across the open plain. The expedition had been underway for just under two hours, and so far, the right wing of the formation had encountered minimal resistance—three seven-meter class Titans dispatched quickly by the more experienced soldiers.
Jaime squinted against the harsh sunlight, scanning the horizon. Captain Flagon rode at the head of their small squad, his back rigid with military discipline. Beside him, Jaime's squadmates—Nolan, Rita, Felix, and Sandra—maintained formation with the precision that came from years of drills and the fear that came from knowing what waited beyond the walls.
A red smoke signal spiraled upward from the adjacent squad, followed almost immediately by a black one. Abnormal.
"Keep your eyes open!" Captain Flagon shouted, his voice cutting through the wind. "Abnormal approaching from northeast!"
Jaime tightened his grip on the reins, purple eyes narrowing as he scanned the direction Flagon indicated. Then he saw it—a fifteen-meter monstrosity sprinting toward their position with unnervingly jerky movements, its limbs bending at angles that would shatter human bones. Its wide mouth stretched in a frozen grin that exposed rows of blunt teeth.
Great, an ugly one with a sense of humor, Jaime thought, already calculating distances and angles. The creature's movement pattern was erratic but not random—it favored its right side, lunging forward with its left arm extended before its body followed in a twisting motion.
"Form up!" Flagon ordered, raising his hand to signal a halt. The squad pulled their horses to a stop, forming a loose circle as the Captain assessed the situation. "This one's not following standard patterns. We need to coordinate our approach."
The Titan continued its bizarre advance, moving in a zigzagging pattern that made its trajectory difficult to predict.
"Here's the plan," Flagon continued, gesturing to Nolan and Rita. "You two, approach from the right. Sandra and Felix, left flank. I'll take center. We'll force it to commit to a direction, then strike from the opposite side."
Jaime listened, but his eyes remained fixed on the Titan, watching as it stumbled, then suddenly accelerated. Its movements weren't as random as they appeared. There was a rhythm—a pattern of three stumbling steps followed by a burst of speed, all while favoring its right side.
"Sir," Jaime interjected, "it has a predictable recovery pattern after its sprint. If we—"
"I didn't ask for your assessment, soldier," Flagon cut him off. "Maintain position and—"
The Titan suddenly changed direction, lunging toward them with unexpected speed. Sandra's horse reared in panic.
"It's spotted us!" Felix shouted, already reaching for his ODM gear triggers.
In the split second of confusion, Jaime made his decision. He'd seen enough—the next pattern would bring the Titan directly into their circle in approximately twelve seconds, and their current plan would leave at least two of them vulnerable during its approach.
Without a word, Jaime fired his ODM hooks into the ground ahead, using the anchors to launch himself forward and over the startled cries of his squadmates. He released at the peak of his arc, firing again at the Titan's shoulder as it began its three-step stumble.
"Jaime!" Flagon's voice bellowed behind him. "Get back in formation!"
Ignoring the command, Jaime let momentum carry him in a wide circle around the Titan. The creature's head swiveled to follow his movement, its grin somehow widening further. Just as it completed its stumble pattern and prepared to lunge, Jaime executed the maneuver he'd been perfecting with Levi—the Reaper's Spin.
He released his hooks and fired both simultaneously at crossing points above the Titan's nape. As the wires went taut, he used the opposing forces to launch himself into a horizontal spinning attack. His blades blurred as he rotated, slicing through the Titan's nape.
The cut was perfect—deep enough to kill. The Titan froze mid-step, its grin faltering as steam began to rise from its severed nape. It collapsed forward with a ground-shaking thud just as Jaime landed neatly on the grass behind it.
For a moment, there was only the sound of the Titan's flesh sizzling as it began to decompose. Then Captain Flagon's horse thundered toward him, the man's face twisted in fury.
"What the hell was that?" Flagon demanded, dismounting with such force that his horse snorted in protest. "Did I give an order to engage?"
Jaime sheathed his blades with a practiced click. "No, sir. But I saw an opening and—"
"This isn't The City of Trost, soldier!" Flagon's face reddened as he stepped closer, jabbing a finger at Jaime's chest. "In the Corps, we follow orders and work as a team. You're still a cadet, not a one-man army."
The rest of the squad approached cautiously, their expressions a mix of awe and concern. Jaime knew they'd never seen anyone take down a Titan that size with a single strike—few could, except for Levi, Mike, and perhaps Mikasa.
"With respect, sir," Jaime replied, keeping his voice level, "it was down before it could react. Waiting risked casualties."
"And if you'd miscalculated? If you'd missed?" Flagon countered, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "We'd be scraping what's left of you off the grass, and possibly others trying to save your reckless ass."
The captain wasn't wrong, Jaime had to admit. But he'd seen the pattern, knew the timing would work. The risk had been calculated, not reckless. Still, this wasn't the time to argue.
"A soldier who can't follow orders is a liability, no matter how skilled," Flagon continued, his anger cooling into something more dangerous—disappointment. "I expected better from someone Captain Levi personally trained."
That stung more than Jaime wanted to admit. Levi's training had been brutal, but effective. And one of the captain's first lessons had been about trust in the chain of command.
"I understand, sir," Jaime said, bowing his head slightly. "It won't happen again."
Unless it needs to, he added silently.
Flagon studied him for a moment longer, then nodded curtly. "Mount up. We need to signal the all-clear and get back in formation."
As the squad prepared to continue, Rita sidled her horse next to Jaime's. "That was... impressive," she murmured, glancing at the rapidly disintegrating Titan corpse. "How did you know that would work?"
Jaime patted Aethra's neck, avoiding Rita's gaze. "Just watched its movements. Abnormals have patterns if you look closely enough."
"Well, next time maybe share that insight before going solo," she replied with a half-smile. "Though I have to admit, that spinning thing was something else."
"The Reaper's Spin," Jaime said, unable to keep a hint of pride from his voice. "Still working on the name."
"The 'Get Captain Flagon Pissed Off' spin seemed to work just fine," Felix quipped as he rode past.
Despite the tension, Jaime felt a small smile tug at his lips. The squad was alive, the Titan was dead, and they were continuing the mission. In the grand scheme of things, a captain's anger was a small price to pay.
As they rejoined formation and continued across the open plain, Jaime found his thoughts drifting to the left wing, where Ymir and Krista would be riding. Were they facing similar challenges? Had they encountered Titans yet? Krista was skilled enough, but she wasn't Mikasa, even Eren was better than her with ODM Gear. And Ymir, for all her talk, had a tendency to take unnecessary risks when Krista was involved.
They'll be fine, he told himself, refocusing on the horizon ahead. Ymir would rather die than let anything happen to Krista. And neither of them would forgive me if I got myself killed worrying about them.
"Signal flare, northeast!" Sandra called out, pointing to a green streak rising into the blue sky.
"Forward!" Captain Flagon ordered, his earlier anger seemingly set aside in the face of the continuing mission. "Maintain formation and stay alert!"
Jaime urged Aethra forward, the familiar rhythm of her gallop steadying his nerves.
The squad rode in tense silence for nearly an hour after the abnormal incident. Jaime could feel Captain Flagon's occasional glances burning into his back, but he kept his eyes forward, focused on the horizon. The open plains were gradually giving way to more varied terrain—rolling hills, scattered clusters of trees, and in the distance, the dark line of a forest.
A shadow passed overhead—a cloud momentarily blocking the sun—and Jaime felt a familiar prickle at the back of his neck. His instincts, honed in the dark alleys of the Underground and sharpened by three years of training, were rarely wrong.
"Captain," he called out, voice carrying over the thunder of hooves. "Two o'clock."
Flagon's head snapped in the direction Jaime indicated. At first, there was nothing visible but the gentle slope of a hill. Then, as if materializing from the earth itself, a Titan crested the rise—a seven-meter class with disproportionately long arms that dragged along the ground as it walked.
"Contact, single Titan!" Flagon announced, raising his arm to prepare a flare.
Before he could fire, Sandra's voice cut through the air. "Captain, ten o'clock as well!"
Another Titan had appeared to their left—taller than the first, perhaps ten meters, with a bulbous head that seemed too heavy for its spindly neck.
"Three more at our six!" Nolan shouted, twisting in his saddle to look behind them. "Looks like seven, nine, and... twelve-meter class!"
Jaime quickly assessed their situation. Four Titans converging on their position from multiple directions. Not good odds, even for a squad with an exceptional record. The forest ahead might offer maneuverability with their ODM gear, but it could also restrict their escape routes if things went badly.
"Black flare," Flagon ordered, loading the signal gun. The dark smoke spiraled upward, warning the formation of multiple Titans approaching. "Increase pace. We're going to lead them away from the center column."
The squad urged their horses faster, angling away from the main formation. Jaime analyzed the terrain ahead, his mind racing through possible strategies. About two kilometers ahead, the land split into a narrow ravine before widening again at the forest's edge. That feature could be useful.
"Captain," Jaime called, guiding Aethra closer to Flagon. "I have an idea."
Flagon didn't slow his pace, but he tilted his head slightly to indicate he was listening.
"The ravine ahead," Jaime continued, pointing toward the geological feature. "If we split into pairs at the approach, we can funnel the Titans into a bottleneck. The cliff walls would limit their movement, and we could attack from above with our ODM gear."
Felix, riding nearby, nodded vigorously. "That could work. The tall ones would have trouble maneuvering in that narrow space."
Flagon's expression remained stern as he considered the suggestion. "And what happens when they all crowd into the ravine at once? We'd be facing four Titans in a confined space."
"We time our approach," Jaime pressed. "Two of us lead the first two Titans in, eliminate them quickly while they're confined, then the next pair brings in the remaining two."
Rita looked over her shoulder at the pursuing Titans. "They're gaining on us, Captain. We need to decide quickly."
Flagon was silent for several long seconds, his eyes calculating. Finally, he shook his head. "Too risky. We follow protocol. Our job is to protect the center column, not play hero." His voice hardened on the last word, a pointed reminder of Jaime's earlier insubordination.
"But sir—" Jaime began.
"This isn't a training exercise, soldier," Flagon cut him off. "Out here, people die when plans go wrong." He gestured broadly at the open terrain. "We lead them away from the formation, maintain our distance, and only engage if absolutely necessary."
Jaime felt frustration bubbling in his chest but forced it down. "Yes, sir."
"If the Survey Corps engaged every Titan we encountered," Flagon continued, his tone softening slightly, "there wouldn't be many of us left. Sometimes running is the smartest strategy."
Jaime bit his tongue. Running felt wrong when they had a chance to eliminate threats, but he understood the logic. Better to have Titans following their small group than discovering the formation's center, where Eren and the crucial supply wagons were located.
The squad maintained their course, skirting the ravine rather than entering it. The Titans continued their pursuit, neither gaining nor losing significant ground. Their awkward gaits and fixed expressions might have been comical in another context, but Jaime knew too well the damage those lumbering bodies could inflict.
As they rode, Jaime's mind drifted to his friends scattered throughout the formation. Mikasa would be fine—she always was. But Eren's tendency to let emotion override strategy worried him. And Jean, for all his talk, still hesitated at crucial moments. Connie and Sasha were skilled but easily distracted. Armin's brilliance wouldn't help if he froze in fear again.
"Stay focused, Purple Eyes," Felix called from beside him, using the nickname that had started as a taunt during training but had evolved into something almost affectionate. "Your mind's wandering."
Jaime blinked, pulling himself back to the present. "Just planning my next move if one of these uglies gets too close."
"Yeah? Well plan on following orders this time," Felix replied with a crooked grin. "Captain's about one surprise away from making you run alongside the horse."
"He'd have to catch me first," Jaime quipped, his usual humor returning despite the situation. "And I'm pretty light on my feet."
"Light in the head, maybe," Rita added from behind them.
Their banter was cut short as the forest loomed closer. The trees were massive—not quite as large as the Forest of Giant Trees to the north, but substantial enough to require special attention. Perfect for ODM gear, but also perfect for ambushes.
Flagon raised his hand, signaling a slight change in direction to maintain their course parallel to the forest rather than entering it. "Keep the Titans in sight. We need to know if they change course."
Jaime nodded, turning in his saddle to check their pursuers. The four Titans continued their relentless advance, faces frozen in their grotesque parodies of human expression.
My plan would have worked, he thought, unable to completely suppress his frustration. We could have eliminated all four by now and rejoined the formation.
The thought had barely formed when a sensation unlike anything he'd experienced before rippled through his body—a shudder that seemed to originate in his bones and spread outward, setting his nerves alight with warning. It wasn't pain, exactly, but a primal alert system screaming danger.
Jaime pulled Aethra to an abrupt halt, his purple eyes widening as he scanned the forest edge. Nothing visibly different, but the feeling intensified—a pressure building behind his eyes, a certainty that something terrible was approaching.
"Jaime! What are you doing?" Flagon shouted, circling back when he noticed Jaime had stopped.
"Something's wrong," Jaime replied, his voice steady despite the alarm bells ringing in his mind. "Something is coming."
The forest edge seemed to ripple, like heat rising from sun-baked stones. Jaime's eyes narrowed, his instincts screaming louder with each passing second. Then he saw movement—a massive hand gripping a tree trunk, followed by another, and another. The forest disgorged its nightmares one by one until ten Titans of varying heights stood at its edge, their blank eyes somehow all focused in the same direction—toward the center of the formation.
"Captain!" Jaime shouted, pointing toward the emerging threat.
Captain Flagon's face drained of color as he counted the Titans. "Sweet Walls," he muttered, then snapped back to attention. "All scouts, prepare to engage! They're heading for the formation center!"
The squad immediately shifted focus from the four pursuing Titans to the new, greater threat. These weren't random wanderers—they were moving as if they were told to move in that direction, all in the same direction. Jaime had never seen Titans coordinate like this.
"They're ignoring us," Rita observed, her voice tight with confusion. "They're heading straight for the center column."
She was right. Despite the squad's proximity, the Titans paid them no attention, shambling forward with single-minded determination.
"We can't let them reach the command group," Flagon decided, his jaw set. "We engage." He began issuing rapid orders. "Rita, Nolan—take the seven-meter on the left. Felix, Sandra—the pair of nine-meters. I'll handle the twelve-meter with the bloated stomach."
The squad nodded in unison, hands moving to their ODM gear triggers, preparing to launch.
"Jaime," Flagon turned to him last, "you're the fastest. Ride south and alert Zacharius's squad about the breach. They need to reinforce the center."
Jaime felt his chest tighten. "Sir, with respect, you need every blade here. Those are ten Titans against five of us—and we still have four following behind."
"That's an order, not a suggestion," Flagon shouted at him.
Jaime glanced at his squadmates. Their faces reflected what he already knew—five scouts against ten Titans and four more approaching was a suicide mission. Even if each scout took down one Titan perfectly, half would still break through to the center column.
"We'll need a different approach," Jaime said, his mind racing through scenarios. "Fighting them one-on-one won't work."
The other scouts looked at him expectantly. Despite his youth, his performance during training and against the abnormal had earned their respect—even if Flagon was still wary of his tendency to improvise.
"What do you propose?" Flagon asked, the urgency of the situation overriding his earlier caution.
Jaime studied the terrain, the Titans' movements, and the positioning of his squad. The forest edge provided anchor points for their ODM gear, while the open field gave them maneuverability. The grouping of Titans—some clustered, others spread out—created both challenges and opportunities.
"We use the trees as pivot points," he began, pointing toward the forest edge. "Three of us distract from the front while the rest attack in sequence from behind. We'll need perfect timing."
He quickly outlined his plan, using hand gestures to indicate positions and movements. The strategy would use the Titans' single-minded focus against them, turning their coordination into a vulnerability.
"It's risky," Flagon admitted after Jaime finished, "but it might work." He nodded once, decision made. "We'll try it. Positions everyone!"
The squad split up according to Jaime's plan. Rita, Sandra, and Nolan would serve as distractions, drawing the Titans' attention forward while Jaime, Flagon, and Felix would attack from behind in a precise sequence.
"Ready?" Flagon called out, raising his hand.
"Ready!" the squad replied in unison.
"Now!"
Rita was first to launch, the distinctive hiss-clank of her ODM gear cutting through the air as her hooks embedded in a sturdy tree at the forest edge. Her body became a projectile, propelled by controlled gas bursts that sent her flying in a graceful arc toward the Titans. Nolan and Sandra followed milliseconds later, their cables creating a complex web of metal wires.
Rita soared between two Titans, slicing a shallow cut across the closest one's shoulder—not enough to kill, just enough to draw attention. The Titan roared, its massive head swiveling to follow her movement. Sandra and Nolan executed similar maneuvers, buzzing around the Titans like angry wasps, forcing them to turn toward the distraction.
Jaime waited for his moment, counting under his breath. "Three... two... one..."
He fired his hooks into the uppermost branches of a massive oak, the cables extending with pinpoint precision to anchor exactly where he intended. Gas hissed from his gear as he launched forward, his body becoming a blur of movement. The wind tore at his hair and uniform as he accelerated, using gravity and momentum to conserve gas while maximizing speed.
At the apex of his arc, Jaime retracted his left hook and fired it at a new angle, initiating a controlled spin that sent him slicing past a nine-meter Titan's nape. Steam erupted from the wound as the Titan began to fall.
Without pausing, Jaime fired his right hook into another tree, changing direction mid-air with a sharp jerk that would have dislocated the shoulder of someone less prepared. He twisted his body, adjusting his center of gravity to execute a tight spiral between two Titans. Their massive hands swiped at empty air where he'd been a split second before.
Flagon and Felix had already claimed their first victims, moving with the coordination of veteran scouts. Felix's attack style was all power—firing his hooks close to his targets and using maximum gas to achieve devastating cutting force. Flagon moved more conservatively, prioritizing precision over speed, each cut economical and exact.
"Eight more!" Flagon called out as he swung past Jaime, retracting his hooks to reposition for another attack.
Jaime nodded, already analyzing his next target—a twelve-meter with peculiarly long arms that gave it extended reach. He would need to approach from above, outside its grasp.
Firing both hooks into the tallest tree available, Jaime retracted the cables quickly while releasing a controlled gas burst, sending himself rocketing upward at a steep angle. At the peak of his ascent, he released his right hook and used the remaining anchor point to swing in a wide arc above the Titan's head.
The creature looked up, tracking his movement with unsettling focus. Its arms rose, fingers spread to catch him. But Jaime had anticipated this—it was the opening he needed. As the Titan's attention fixed above, he cut his remaining cable entirely and dropped in free fall directly behind its head.
For a heart-stopping moment, he plummeted without any cable anchors, completely vulnerable. Then, with practiced timing, he fired both hooks into the Titan's own shoulders, using its body as an anchor point. The hooks bit deep, and Jaime activated a short gas burst to swing himself in a tight circle around to the nape. His blades flashed once, and another Titan began to fall.
"Look out!" Sandra's voice cut through the chaos.
Jaime's head snapped up just in time to see a seven-meter Titan lunging toward Rita, who was retracting her hooks after a narrowly missed attack. Her cables weren't retracting fast enough—she wouldn't clear the Titan's reach in time.
Without thinking, Jaime fired his right hook into the falling Titan he'd just killed and his left into a tree beyond Rita. Using the tension between the two points, he catapulted himself toward her, colliding with her mid-air just as the Titan's fingers closed on empty space.
"That was close," Rita gasped as they swung to temporary safety on a high branch.
"You owe me a drink when we get back," Jaime replied with a quick grin, already scanning for his next move.
The plan was working—they'd taken down four Titans—but the remaining six had caught on to their strategy and were no longer so easily distracted. Worse, the four Titans that had been pursuing them earlier had nearly caught up, bringing the total back to ten.
"Regroup!" Flagon ordered, landing beside Jaime and Rita on the branch. His uniform was splattered with evaporating Titan blood, and his breathing came in controlled but heavy pants. "We need to adjust."
The squad gathered quickly, perching on adjacent branches like oversized, battle-worn birds. Felix had a cut on his forehead that leaked blood into his left eye, and Nolan's gear had taken damage—one of his gas canisters was dented, limiting his mobility.
"Four down, ten to go," Flagon summed up, his voice grim. "And they're adapting to our approach."
"We need to target the smaller ones first," Jaime suggested. "Clear them out so we have more space to maneuver around the larger ones."
Flagon nodded. "Good. Sandra, Nolan—take the pair of seven-meters flanking the group. Felix, you're with me on the nine-meter with the twisted leg. Jaime, Rita—handle the eight-meter with the elongated jaw. Watch for the larger ones trying to protect the smaller ones. They're... coordinating somehow."
The squad leapt from the branch in formation, hooks firing in synchronized perfection as they engaged once more.
The battle became a blur of motion, gas hisses, and the distinctive schunk of blades cutting through Titan flesh. Jaime and Rita worked in tandem, one distracting while the other struck. They felled their assigned Titan efficiently, but as Jaime retracted his hooks, he spotted Elena firing her hooks toward a twelve-meter that had suddenly changed direction.
"Elena, wait!" he shouted, recognizing the trap.
Too late. As Elena swung toward the Titan, another emerged from behind a tree, its hand sweeping through the air to intercept her path. Its fingers closed around her cable, yanking her off course and directly into its waiting palm.
"NO!" Jaime fired his hooks toward her, gas canisters hissing at maximum output as he rocketed toward Elena.
Elena struggled in the Titan's grip, her face contorted with pain as its fingers tightened. She still had one blade, and with desperate strength, she stabbed it into the Titan's thumb. The creature loosened its grip just enough for her to twist partially free.
Jaime reached them a second later, blades spinning in his signature move as he sliced through the Titan's wrist. Its hand fell away, fingers still twitching as Elena tumbled through the air. Jaime adjusted his trajectory, pushing his gear to its limits as he caught her mid-fall.
"I've got you," he gasped, swinging them both toward a high branch.
But as they landed, he saw the blood soaking through her uniform. The Titan had crushed her lower body before she'd managed to partially free herself.
"It's bad, isn't it?" she whispered, her face pale.
Jaime couldn't lie to her. "Yes."
The battle continued around them, but for Jaime, the world narrowed to the dying girl in his arms.
"My son," she said. Her breath came in shallow gasps now. "Matthias... in Trost... please tell him his mother was brave."
"I will," Jaime promised, his throat tight. "I'll tell him his mother was a hero."
A small smile flickered across her lips. "Captain," she called out, louder, spotting Flagon landing nearby. "Please look after him."
Flagon knelt beside them, his face etched with the grief of a leader who'd lost too many soldiers. "I give you my word, Elena."
She nodded once, then her eyes found Jaime's again. "Thank you for... trying." Her voice faded, hand going slack in his grip.
Jaime gently closed her eyes, his chest burning with a familiar, terrible feeling—the helpless rage of watching someone die when he'd been too slow, too weak, too late to save them.
The rest of the squad landed around them, faces solemn. Seven Titans remained below, still shambling toward the center formation but now at least partially distracted by the scouts' presence.
"We've lost Elena," Flagon announced, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. "But the mission continues." He turned to Jaime. "You were right about the coordination. This isn't normal Titan behavior."
Jaime nodded, carefully laying Elena's body on the branch. "They're moving with purpose toward the formation center. Someone needs to warn the Commander."
"That someone is you," Flagon decided. "Take Felix and Nolan. Ride for the southern squad and alert them about these coordinated Titans. Rita, Sandra, and I will continue the engagement, try to slow them down."
"That's three against seven," Jaime protested. "You won't stand a chance."
"We don't need a chance," Flagon replied. "We just need time. Time for you to get reinforcements."
Felix stepped forward. "Captain, Jaime's our best fighter. Maybe he should stay while one of us goes—"
"No," Flagon's voice was firm. "Jaime's also our fastest rider and our cadet. And after what we've seen today..." he paused, looking at the coordinated Titans below, "I believe Commander Erwin needs to hear directly from someone who witnessed this."
Jaime knew the captain was right, but leaving felt wrong. "There has to be a way to—"
"Go now, Jaime," Flagon cut him off, his tone softening. "Honor Elena's sacrifice by completing the mission."
The captain's use of his first name rather than "soldier" wasn't lost on Jaime. This wasn't just an order—it was a request from one fighter to another. Jaime glanced at Elena's still form, then back to Flagon.
"Yes, sir," he said finally. "We'll bring back reinforcements."
Flagon nodded once, then turned to Felix and Nolan. "You two, with Jaime. Keep him alive long enough to deliver the message."
"Shouldn't be too hard," Felix attempted a grim smile. "He's pretty good at staying alive."
The three of them used their ODM gear to return to where they'd left their horses, fortunately still waiting nearby. As they mounted, Jaime looked back at the forest edge where Flagon, Rita, and Sandra were already re-engaging the Titans, their ODM gear sending them dancing through the air in a deadly ballet.
I'll be back, Jaime promised silently. With enough soldiers to end this.
As they urged their horses to a gallop, heading south toward Mike Zacharius's position, Jaime couldn't shake the feeling that these coordinated Titans were only the beginning of something much worse to come.
Armin Arlert
Armin's lungs burned as he struggled to drag air into them. His body felt impossibly heavy, like someone had replaced his blood with lead.
Armin tried to sit up, but his muscles refused to cooperate. He was lying on his back in the grass, surrounded by... nothing. No horses. No squad members. Just silence and the faint scent of blood.
They're all dead. She killed them all.
The realization froze the breath in his throat. His squad leader and the other soldier—both experienced veterans—had been swatted aside like insects by the Female Titan. It had been so fast. Unlike any Titan he'd ever seen or read about.
A shadow fell across his face. Something massive blocked the sun.
Armin's eyes widened in terror as he looked up into the face of the Female Titan. She knelt over him, her blonde hair hanging down around her face, her crystalline blue eyes studying him with an intelligence that no mindless Titan could possess. She reached toward him, and Armin's body finally responded—with paralyzing fear.
This is it. I'm going to die.
But instead of grabbing him, her enormous fingers delicately lifted his hood, as if confirming his identity. Those eyes... Armin had seen them before. Not the massive, Titan version, but the human eyes that mirrored them. He was certain of it.
For a long, terrifying moment, they stared at each other. Then, incomprehensibly, she released his hood and stood, turning away from him. Without a backward glance, she began running, each footstep sending tremors through the ground.
Armin lay there, his mind racing to process what had just happened. Why had she spared him? Titans didn't choose to spare humans—especially not after deliberately killing others. Unless...
She's like Eren. A human in a Titan's body. And whoever she is... she knows me.
The implications sent a chill down Armin's spine. If she was a Titan shifter like Eren, that meant she was someone from within the walls. Someone trained as a soldier, given her fighting techniques. Someone who could recognize him.
Someone they knew.
Eventually, his body's trembling subsided enough for him to sit up. The landscape around him was eerily quiet, broken only by the distant sounds of the expedition continuing elsewhere. Armin struggled to his feet, scanning for any sign of survivors or approaching Titans.
"Armin!" called a familiar voice, breaking through his racing thoughts.
Snapping out of his daze, Armin turned to see Reiner approaching on horseback, leading a spare horse behind him.
"Reiner!"
"Can you stand?" Reiner asked, pulling his horse to a halt. "You know you can't survive out here without a mount! Hurry up!"
Forcing his shaking limbs to cooperate, Armin got to his feet and quickly mounted the spare horse. He needed to focus on immediate survival before he could process everything else.
Both soldiers urged their horses forward, following the Female Titan who was now a distant figure on the horizon, running without any sign of slowing.
"I came as fast as I could when I saw the black smoke signal," Reiner explained, eyes fixed on the retreating Titan. "Is that the abnormal?"
Armin shook his head. "She's not an abnormal. She's a human transformed into a Titan—like Eren."
"What?" Reiner's head snapped toward him. "Are you sure?"
"I'll explain later," Armin replied, fumbling with his flare gun. "I need to warn the others." His trembling fingers struggled to load the cartridge properly. "Come on, you stupid thing," he muttered.
A sharp crack cut through the air. Both Armin and Reiner turned to see a yellow flare spiraling upward from behind them. Moments later, Jean appeared, urging his horse alongside them.
"Looks like Jean beat you to it," Reiner observed.
As Jean caught up, the three of them noticed more yellow flares rising from the right flank of the formation.
"The right flank is sending emergency signals," Reiner noted with concern. "Have they taken that many casualties?"
Jean's expression was grim as he pulled alongside them. "Yeah, seems the right flank got hit hard. A group of Titans appeared all at once and attacked simultaneously. They've lost too many soldiers to continue the search pattern."
Armin's analytical mind immediately connected the dots. He looked at the Female Titan, then back at the yellow flares. "She came from that direction," he said slowly. "What if... what if she lured those Titans to attack the right flank?"
"What are you talking about?" Jean asked, glancing at the distant Titan. "Is that some kind of abnormal up ahead?"
"No," Armin replied with growing certainty. "She's human—someone with abilities like Eren's."
Jean stared at him, visibly struggling to process this information. "Like... Eren? Another human who can turn into a Titan?"
"Armin, what makes you so sure?" Reiner asked.
"Normal Titans eat humans because of instinct," Armin explained, his voice steadying as he organized his thoughts. "They don't specifically try to kill us. But this one—she deliberately killed my squad members without attempting to eat them. When one tried to attack her nape, she eliminated him instantly."
He paused, recalling her behavior. "Her actions are too precise, too calculated for a mindless Titan. And the timing is suspicious—the same day the right flank gets attacked by a coordinated group of Titans, this intelligent Female Titan appears?" Armin's eyes narrowed. "She's looking for someone specific. I think... I think she's looking for Eren."
"If she's after Eren," Reiner said slowly, "then where is he? In the formation diagrams I was given, he was positioned in the center."
"Mine showed him on the left flank," Jean countered with confusion.
"According to my diagram, he was on the right," Armin added. "But that doesn't make sense. They wouldn't put someone as valuable as Eren in such a vulnerable position."
The three exchanged looks as understanding dawned.
"They distributed false information," Armin realized.
"So where is Eren?" Reiner asked with urgency.
Armin waited for a moment before answering. "Eren must be in the safest position—the center-rear section, even more protected than the supply wagons."
"Armin," Jean cut in urgently, "we can debate formations later. Right now, we have a bigger problem. Smoke signals can't convey how dangerous this Titan is. If she reaches the Commander's position, the entire formation will collapse."
"What are you suggesting?" Reiner asked, though his expression suggested he already knew.
Jean took a deep breath. "We need to engage her—distract her long enough for the others to regroup and escape."
Armin and Reiner stared at Jean in surprise. This wasn't the same self-centered cadet they remembered from training.
"That Titan has intelligence," Armin warned. "She'll kill us without hesitation if we directly challenge her."
"Yeah, you're probably right," Jean agreed with a nervous laugh. "Pretty stupid plan, huh?"
"Who are you, and what have you done with Jean?" Reiner asked, only half-joking. "The Jean I know only thinks about saving his own skin."
Jean sighed, his expression growing solemn. "I don't want to have regrets later," he said quietly. "I don't want to stand before a pile of ashes that used to be people and know I could have done something." He paused, and Armin caught a glimpse of the inner struggle Jean had been facing since joining the Survey Corps. "I've made my choice by being here. Now I have to live with the consequences of that choice."
His words carried a weight that silenced both Armin and Reiner. In that moment, Armin saw how much Jean had changed since their cadet days.
An idea suddenly struck Armin. He pulled his hood up, covering his head.
"Put your hoods up," he instructed. "Cover your faces."
"Why?" Jean asked, though he began to comply.
"If she's looking for Eren, she can't risk killing someone without confirming their identity first," Armin explained. "She spared me after seeing my face. If she can't see who we are, she might hesitate."
"Smart thinking," Reiner agreed, pulling up his own hood. "We might gain a few crucial seconds that way."
Jean gave Armin an appraising look. "You know, Armin, I used to think you were just Eren's shadow, but you've got one of the sharpest minds in the Corps."
"Thanks... I think?" Armin replied, somewhat taken aback by Jean's backhanded compliment.
With hoods secured, the three soldiers urged their horses faster, quickly gaining ground on the Female Titan. Armin's heart pounded as they drew closer to the massive figure. She glanced over her shoulder, clearly aware of their pursuit, but made no immediate move to attack.
The plan was simple: distract her, slow her down, buy time for the formation to regroup. The execution, however, proved far more terrifying than Armin had anticipated.
"I'll go first," Jean declared, readying his ODM gear, his hand hovering over the trigger.
"Jean, wait—" Armin began, but Jean had already launched into action.
Jean fired his hooks into the Female Titan's shoulder, gas propelling him forward as the cables went taut. He arced gracefully through the air, blades drawn and ready to strike. For a moment, Armin thought he might succeed—Jean's form was perfect, his approach angle difficult to track.
But the Female Titan moved with uncanny awareness, twisting just enough to throw off Jean's timing. Her hand swept through the air where Jean had been a moment before, missing him by centimeters.
Jean cursed, firing his hooks again to change direction. But as he swung around for another approach, his right hook failed to secure properly in the Titan's hardened skin. For a sickening moment, he tumbled through the air, completely vulnerable.
The Female Titan's hand shot out, ready to punch him.
"Jean, take revenge for our friend!" Armin shouted desperately, the words bursting from him before he could fully consider them. "She killed Shorty! I saw her crush him with my own eyes!"
The Female Titan froze, her hand stopping just short of Jean's flailing form. Her entire body went rigid, and her eyes—those unnervingly human eyes—widened with what could only be described as horror.
Jean didn't waste the opportunity. He fired his remaining hook into a nearby tree and pulled himself to safety, landing beside Armin and Reiner, who had dismounted to provide backup.
"What the hell was that, Armin?" Jean gasped, face pale. "What do you mean? What happened to Jaime?"
Before Armin could answer, Reiner suddenly launched himself toward the still-immobilized Female Titan. His hooks embedded in her shoulder, and he swung upward with surprising speed.
The Female Titan recovered from her shock just in time to snatch Reiner out of the air, her massive hand closing around his body. But instead of crushing him immediately, she held him, staring at him with what almost seemed like... accusation?
Armin was sure Reiner was dead when Reiner cut through the fingers of the Female Titan, fell to the ground, and started running towards them.
Jean rushed to Reiner's side while Armin watched the retreating Titan, his analytical mind working furiously.
"What the hell was that about?" Jean demanded of Armin as they helped Reiner to his feet. "What happened to Jaime? Is he dead?"
"No," Armin replied, his eyes still fixed on the Female Titan's diminishing form. "At least, not that I know of. It was a calculated risk. I noticed she reacted to certain words... almost like she understood us."
Reiner brushed dirt from his clothes, his expression unreadable. "Smart thinking, Armin. But why mention Jaime specifically?"
Armin finally turned to face them, his blue eyes intense with realization. "Because whoever is inside that Titan knows him. Knows him well enough that the thought of having killed him caused her to hesitate."
"Inside?" Jean repeated. "You mean, like Eren? Another human who can turn into a Titan?"
Armin nodded grimly. "And if I'm right about who it is... we're in even more trouble than we thought."
"Who?" Jean pressed.
But Armin just shook his head, unwilling to voice his suspicion without more evidence. "We need to warn the Commander. The Female Titan is heading toward the center of the formation—toward Eren."
As they mounted their horses again, Armin cast one last look in the direction the Female Titan had disappeared. The pieces were falling into place in his mind—the blonde hair, the fighting style, the reaction to Jaime's nickname.
If he was right, this wasn't just an attack. It was a betrayal.
Krista
The massive trees of the forest stood like ancient sentinels, their trunks wider than house. Perched on thick branches high above the ground, Mike Zacharias's squad maintained a tense vigilance as three Titans circled below, their vacant eyes occasionally turning upward in mindless hunger.
Squad Leader Mike crouched on a branch slightly apart from the others, his distinctive nose occasionally twitching as he scented the air. The signal flares had changed their mission parameters, forcing them to take refuge in the trees until the situation became clearer.
Krista Lenz sat with her back against the trunk. Her usual sunny expression had dimmed to one of worried concentration. Beside her, Ymir lounged with deceptive casualness, one leg dangling over the edge of the branch, apparently unconcerned by the Titans below.
"The right flank must have taken significant casualties if they're abandoning the search pattern," one of the senior squad members observed, watching another yellow flare spiral into the sky in the distance.
Krista's hands tightened around her gear straps. "Do you think Jaime's alright? His squad was positioned in the right wing..."
Ymir snorted, flicking a piece of bark off the branch. "Shorty's too stubborn to die. Probably annoying the Titans to death as we speak."
Despite her dismissive tone, those who knew Ymir well enough could detect the concern in her voice. She and Krista had been among Jaime's closest friends since their training days.
"I wouldn't worry about him," Squad Leader Mike said without turning around. "I've seen him train. The kid's got instincts most veterans would kill for."
From a nearby branch, Bertholdt Hoover shifted uncomfortably, his tall frame hunched as if trying to make himself smaller. "How did he get so skilled?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual. "He's only been in the military three years like us..."
"Some people are just naturals," one of the veterans offered with a shrug.
Krista nodded, a small smile finding its way back to her face. "Jaime's always been exceptional with the ODM gear. Even in our first week of training, he moved like he'd been using it for years."
"And he never lets anyone forget it," Ymir added with a roll of her eyes. "Mr. 'I Can Kill A Titan While Doing A Backflip And Making Tea.'"
A few nervous chuckles rippled through the group, the shared joke momentarily relieving the tension.
"It's more than just talent though," Krista continued thoughtfully. "He works harder than anyone. Remember those extra training sessions he set up for us before the expedition? He stayed up designing those drills after everyone else had gone to sleep."
Bertholdt's expression tightened almost imperceptibly. "I heard he received special training from Captain Levi for several weeks. Why would the Captain single him out like that?"
Ymir cocked her head, studying Bertholdt with narrowed eyes. "What's it to you, Bertl? Jealous of his height or his girlfriend?"
Bertholdt flinched as if struck. "I'm not—that's not what I meant," he stammered, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead despite the cool air. "I just think it's unusual."
"Everything about Jaime is unusual," Ymir replied with a dismissive wave. "His weird purple eyes, his stupid hair, his inability to shut up for more than ten seconds at a time..."
"And his kindness," Krista added softly. "Even when he's pretending to be tough."
One of the Titans below suddenly let out a groan, momentarily drawing everyone's attention downward. The creature had begun mindlessly clawing at the tree trunk, its nails splintering against the hardwood.
"Speaking of kindness," Ymir muttered, "your boyfriend better have made it through that mess on the right flank. If he went and got himself killed after all those lectures about safety, I'll never forgive him."
Krista blushed furiously. "He's not my boyfriend! Jaime's with Annie."
"Doesn't stop him from hovering over you like an overprotective brother," Ymir retorted. "Between him and me, it's a miracle any Titans get within fifty meters of you."
Squad Leader Mike suddenly raised his hand, signaling for silence. His nose twitched more pronouncedly as he scented the air. "Something's changed," he said, his voice low and tense. "The wind's carrying a new scent from the south."
"More Titans?" one of the scouts asked anxiously.
Mike shook his head slowly. "No... blood. Human blood. And a lot of it."
The squad fell silent. Whatever had happened on the right flank was spreading. Krista's eyes met Ymir's, a silent communication passing between them.
"Jaime's fine," Ymir said firmly. "Purple Eyes is probably leading the whole damn right flank single-handedly by now, making everyone else look bad."
Bertholdt watched them, his expression unreadable save for the sweat now beading along his hairline. "Yeah," he agreed after a beat too long, "probably."
Annie Leonhart
The world looked different through Titan eyes. Colors were sharper, distances compressed, and humans appeared as fragile, doll-like creatures scurrying about. Annie had grown accustomed to this altered perception in her years of training, but it still felt alien—a constant reminder that this power came at a price.
Her massive feet thundered across the open ground as she ran, each stride covering dozens of meters. The mission was clear: find Eren Yeager, capture him, return to Marley. Simple. Clean. Necessary.
So why did her chest feel so tight?
Armin's words echoed in her mind. "She killed Shorty! I saw her crush him with my own eyes!"
It couldn't be true. She'd been careful to avoid him. Jaime was supposed to be safe in the center—away from her path, away from her mission. Reiner must have lied about his position.
Ahead, a small abandoned village came into view—one of many scattered throughout the lands between Wall Rose and Wall Maria. Beyond it lay the edge of a dense forest where Eren's squad would likely be positioned, according to Reiner's carved message.
Annie had hoped to bypass the village entirely, but movement caught her eye—a small group of Survey Corps soldiers on horseback, riding parallel to her path. Eight of them, moving in tight formation. They hadn't spotted her yet.
I can avoid them. Just bear right and—
Too late. The squad leader's head turned, and immediately arms shot up, pointing in her direction. A black smoke signal spiraled into the air, and the formation shifted with practiced precision. They weren't fleeing—they were advancing toward her.
Fools.
Annie altered her course, accelerating toward the forest. She didn't want to engage them, didn't want more blood on her hands. But they pursued, closing the distance. The lead rider fired his ODM hooks, the metal barbs embedding in her shoulder with a force she felt even through her Titan flesh.
The soldier launched himself skyward, gas propelling him in a tight arc toward her nape. A practiced move—but predictable. Annie hardened the skin on her nape and swung her arm in a backhanded sweep. The blow connected, sending the man spiraling through the air before crashing into the ground.
One down.
The others attacked in coordinated pairs—one distracting from the front while the other aimed for her vulnerable spots. It might have worked against a mindless Titan, but Annie had trained for years in hand-to-hand combat. She anticipated their movements, countering with calculated precision.
A woman with short auburn hair fired her hooks into Annie's calf, clearly intending to hamstring her. Annie kicked out, sending the soldier flying into a crumbling house. Another man managed to slice her Achilles tendon before she caught him mid-air, crushing him like a toy.
Two more fell in quick succession as Annie hardened her fingers into crystalline claws and swept them through the air, severing ODM cables and the soldiers attached to them.
Within minutes, seven of the eight lay broken on the ground.
The last soldier, a young man with a patchy beard, had managed to hook into her right shoulder. His gas canisters appeared damaged from an earlier blow, leaving him dangling helplessly, unable to retract or propel himself to safety. He hung upside down, blood rushing to his face as he frantically tried to free his blade handles, which had become jammed.
Annie paused, studying the struggling human. He posed no threat now. She could simply continue to the forest, leaving him alive. One survivor to tell the tale—
A silver flash cut through the air, severing the ODM wire connected to her shoulder. Simultaneously, pain lanced through her hand as two fingers were sliced clean off, the cable of the soldier was cut, and he was falling down, steam already rising from the wound.
What—?
Annie whirled around, instantly alert. The attack had come from behind with astonishing speed and precision. As her fingers began to regenerate, she scanned the surroundings, trying to locate this new threat.
"Take him, and report what you saw to Commander Erwin Smith. NOW!"
That voice.
Annie's heart seemed to stutter in her chest. No... it couldn't be. Not here.
She looked up just as a hook embedded itself into her shoulder, and a blur of green and silver rocketed toward her. Jaime flew through the air, his ODM gear singing as gas propelled him forward. His purple eyes burned with cold fury, utterly unlike the warm gaze she'd grown to cherish.
He's alive.
Relief warred with horror as she instinctively raised her hand to intercept him—not to kill, never to kill—just to stop him, to disable his gear and force him to retreat.
But Jaime moved like lightning, changing direction mid-air with a skill that defied human limitation. In an instant, he'd curved around her reaching hand, blades flashing in the sunlight as he spun into a maneuver she'd never seen before—like a horizontal tornado of steel.
Pain exploded along her left arm as his blades cut deep, severing muscle and bone. Before she could even register the damage, her entire left arm was reduced to shreds, falling away in chunks of flesh that immediately began to steam.
So fast. When did he get so fast?
Reiner's warning from his last coded message flashed through her mind: "Jaime is advancing too quickly. He's becoming dangerous."
She'd dismissed it. Now, as she tried to track his movement and found herself unable to keep up, she realized her mistake.
Jaime ricocheted between buildings, using minimal gas but maximum momentum, his body seeming to anticipate her every move. He came at her again, this time aiming for her face. Annie tried to harden her skin, but he was too quick. Searing pain cut across her eyes as his blades sliced through them.
Momentarily blinded, Annie felt another assault on her legs. Jaime's blades cut deep behind her knees, severing tendons and causing her massive form to buckle. She fell forward onto her knees, the ground shaking with the impact.
He's going for my nape.
Without hesitation, Annie channeled her power, crystallizing the skin at the back of her neck into an impenetrable shield. The sound of shattering metal confirmed her prediction—Jaime's blades broke against the hardened surface, fragments scattering in the air like deadly confetti.
As her eyes regenerated, vision slowly returning in a blur of steam and light, Annie heard the distinctive click of new blades being locked into place. She turned her head carefully, keeping her blonde hair covering as much of her face as possible.
Jaime stood atop a windmill, his stance balanced and ready. His movements were sharper, more refined—clearly bearing Levi's influence.
"Just like the Colossal and Armored Titans," he called out, his voice carrying across the distance between them, "you're just another traitor hiding in human skin." His purple eyes narrowed, searching her Titan face for answers. "Who are you?"
Annie remained motionless, careful to keep her features obscured. Did he suspect? Had he recognized her fighting style? Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, human emotions bleeding through her Titan consciousness.
Jaime's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something softer crossing his features. "I know you can understand me," he said, his tone changing. "Whatever you're trying to accomplish, it's not worth this bloodshed. These are people with families, with dreams. I know you are like Eren, just come out of the Titan and we can talk. There doesn't have to be more bodies in the ground."
The words struck deeper than any blade. For a moment, Annie nearly lost control of her Titan form, the urge to reveal herself, to explain everything overwhelming her resolve.
I can't. The mission. Marley. Father.
With a sudden surge of will, Annie turned away from Jaime and began to run toward the forest. Each step sent shockwaves through the ground as her partially healed legs carried her forward with renewed urgency.
Behind her, she heard Jaime curse and the sharp whistle he used to call his horse. He would pursue her—of course he would. It was who he was: relentless, determined, infuriatingly noble.
The forest closed around Annie like a green cage, massive tree trunks rising hundreds of feet into the air. Her Titan form crashed through the underbrush, each footfall shaking the earth. Running into this densely wooded area was tactically unsound—she knew that. The Forest of Giant Trees favored ODM gear users, giving them countless anchor points and cover.
But she needed to reach the center formation, where Eren would be. The mission depended on it.
And she needed to escape Jaime.
Steam continued to rise from her healing wounds as she pushed deeper into the forest. Her left arm had almost fully regenerated, though the fingers were still forming. Her vision had cleared. She strained her enhanced senses, listening for the hiss of ODM gear or thundering hooves that would signal Jaime's approach.
How did he get so fast? So skilled? The question troubled her. In training, Jaime had always been exceptional—easily the most talented in their class—but what she'd witnessed back at the village was something else entirely. His speed, precision, and adaptability had surpassed even her most pessimistic estimates.
If he caught up to her in this forest...
A sharp whistle cut through the air, startling her from her thoughts. Annie's head snapped toward the sound just as a flash of movement streaked past her peripheral vision. Instinctively, she swiped at it, her massive hand grasping at empty air as the blur passed through her fingers like smoke.
"You lost the moment you entered this forest," Jaime's voice called from somewhere above. "These trees aren't your allies—they're mine."
Annie looked up to see a shower of severed branches falling toward her. As she raised her arm to shield herself, a burning pain seared across the back of her calf. Jaime had struck while her attention was diverted, slicing through her Achilles tendon.
She staggered, off-balance but still upright. Her eyes darted in all directions, trying to locate him among the dense canopy. Another whistling sound from her left—another flash of movement—and fresh pain erupted along her ribcage as Jaime's blades carved a deep furrow in her Titan flesh.
He's too fast. The realization came with a spike of fear. I can't track him.
Jaime was using the forest exactly as he'd been trained—moving constantly, never attacking from the same angle twice, using the acoustic confusion of the dense woods to mask his actual position while creating misleading sounds elsewhere.
A technique straight from Levi's playbook.
Annie forced herself to focus, to think like the warrior she'd been trained to be. Jaime was just one soldier—skilled, yes, but still human.
Another flash of movement directly ahead caught her eye—a Survey Corps cloak billowing in the wind as it flew toward her face. Without thinking, Annie reached out, her fingers closing carefully around the fabric, instinctively gentle despite her Titan form.
For a fraction of a second, confusion clouded her mind. She expected to feel the weight of his body in her palm, but there was no weight...The cloak was empty, with nobody within its folds.
.
.
A distraction.
Behind!
"You lost," his voice said from behind her, cold and unfamiliar.
I can't let him see me. I need to crystallize.
Before she could focus her power, she felt the unmistakable sensation of blades cutting into her nape.
Strong hands gripped the back of her shirt. With a powerful yank, Jaime tore her free from the Titan's nape, the connective tissues snapping as her human form was extracted. The sudden disconnection was disorienting, like being ripped from a dream into harsh reality.
They fell together from the dissolving Titan corpse, landing hard on the forest floor below. She lay on her back, momentarily stunned, her blonde hair fallen across her face.
She heard the metallic slide of a blade being drawn. Felt the shadow as Jaime moved to stand over her, his blade poised.
"Talk," he commanded, his voice hard. "Who are you and why are you—"
The words died suddenly. The pressure of the blade hovering near her throat disappeared.
Annie slowly brushed the hair from her face, looking up to meet the purple eyes she'd grown to love. They were wide with shock, disbelief etched into every line of Jaime's handsome face. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, his blade hand trembling visibly.
For what seemed like eternity, they stared at each other in the dappled light of the forest floor.
Finally, Jaime found his voice—a whisper so broken it barely carried the single syllable of her name.
"Annie?"