AN: FINALLY! Special thanks to GodzillaFollower1998 for making this possible. I'll point out the scenes he had a huge hand in below. For now, please enjoy an actual chapter for a change.

Chapter 69: A Sharpened Tool

In roughly fifteen minutes, the Scouts had reclaimed their outpost. Any surviving MPs were bound and watched over by Hanji's squad, though the Interior Troops were separated for a private interrogation. The feat that was most impressive was the fact that the Scouts pulled this off without losing a single life. They even managed to capture the leader of these soldiers before he could kill himself. It was the best victory they ever had, and it brought a smile to Hanji's face.

As for Levi, he decided to have a chat with the only Interior MP that wasn't unconscious or dead. Mikasa was keeping watch in case backup was required, though it seemed like the captain had everything under control.

"Where are you keeping Eren and Historia?" Levi demanded.

The captured soldier glowered at him, saying, "Go fuck a Titan."

Levi responded by shoving his boot into the man's mouth. "Not my type." The MP gagged on his foot and the blood that was filling up, but Levi wouldn't budge. "You want to give out dating advice? Don't do it on my time." After a few seconds of watching him suffer, he finally yanked his foot out, allowing the MP to cough out blood and some of his teeth. "Let's try this again: where are Eren and Historia?"

Gasping for breath, the MP spoke in a hoarse tone. "It doesn't matter. You're all going to die, and your commander will hang for all the-"

Once again, Levi interrupted him, though he used a different tactic this time. He hoisted the soldier to his feet and slammed him against a tree, locking his arm behind his back. "Clearly, you're too much of an idiot to comprehend my question. Your squad kidnapped Eren Yeager and Historia Reiss. You're going to tell me where they are before I started breaking every bone in your body."

"I don't know!" The MP screamed as he felt his arm getting yanked in the wrong direction. "I swear to God, I don't know! Captain Ackerman doesn't tell us a damn thing! It's the only way to keep us from spilling our guts to assholes like you!"

Mikasa immediately stiffened upon hearing that name, her eyes widening in shock. "What did you say?" she asked.

Levi threw her a look of warning to silence her before returning to the interrogation. "Is that Kenny's last name? Ackerman?" When he didn't get an answer, he dislocated his thumb with a sharp tug. "Talk!"

"Yes! Yes!" the MP shouted as pained tears streamed down his face. "What does it matter to you bastards anyway!?"

"I'll let you wonder." Levi grabbed his head and bashed it hard against the tree, allowing him to slump to the ground. Whether he was unconscious or dead, he didn't care. At least he figured something he had been wondering for a long time.

The moment his eyes drifted to Mikasa, her eyes glistened with fear. Was she horrified at the thought of a psychopath sharing her last name, or that he would start questioning her the same way he did to the MP? "Captain, I swear I don't know anything about-!"

"Calm down, Mikasa," Levi interrupted simply, raising his hand. "I'm not going to start breaking your legs because we share the same last name as a psychopath."

Her face flushed with embarrassment… and then she realized what he just said. '"We!?"'

He nodded. "Kenny once told me that we were related somehow, but he didn't bother to tell what our last names were. In retrospect, I guess it was obvious you and I share that name."

Once Mikasa found her voice again, it came out in a stutter. "W-What?" If there were more life-altering revelations, her head would probably explode.

"Top of your class, mastered every subject perfectly, unnatural strength. You were an anomaly in the 104th just like I am an anomaly among the Scouts."

Her face turned a deeper shade of red as she grew uncomfortable with every passing second. Standing out was something she had never enjoyed, yet she did it naturally. While she wouldn't admit it, Annie calling her a beast back in training always got to her. Eren resenting her for her natural prowess made it worse.

Levi sighed at her reaction. "I list your feats, and you look like you want to crawl under the nearest rock."

"I've always hated that part of myself," she mumbled. "People look at me like I'm some sort of god, or they hate me because of how strong I am. It's not my fault I'm not… normal."

"You're right. It's not your fault." Was that sympathy in his tone? "But like it or not, you have it. You can either keep hating yourself, or accept the facts. Up to you." His eyes drifted back to the unconscious MP. "We won't get anything useful out of these bastards. If we're gonna find the brats, we'll have to get inside Wall Sina after all."

"But you knew that already," Mikasa pointed out. She had known from the start that the likelihood of getting anything useful from the MPs were slim at best, yet the captain went through with it anyway. "What's the point of all this?"

Levi had several different options on responses. Most of them involved a sharp rebuke and walking away. He owed the girl nothing. And yet, he felt compelled to give her the truth. In part, maybe it was because they shared the same name. "The first lesson they teach you in the military is to offer up your heart for the cause. Be willing to lay down your life if it meant the success of a mission. The second lesson gets shoved in your face the moment you're a part of the Scouts: be prepared to let your friends die. Going up against the Titans always involves casualties. I can't tell you how many soldiers I've seen die because one of their comrades were on the losing end. If the whole Regiment is out to save a life, it's because that life is invaluable to the mission."

Mikasa visibly shuddered as her mind drifted to the last time Eren needed rescuing. She was caught by a Titan that managed to crush her ribs effortlessly. True, Jean was around to get her out of that mess, but what if it wasn't one of her friends? What if it was just a nameless stranger who saw her about to be devoured? She was the top of her class in the Cadet Corps, but out on the field, compared to Levi, Eren, Dillon, even Annie… she was nothing more than an expendable soldier.

"I'm talking too much," he muttered, tossing her some rope. "Tie them to the trees. These Interior assholes won't get the luxury of a prison cell."

Nodding, Mikasa got to work on her unconscious prisoner. It was still hard to digest that Captain Levi shared her name. She wanted to ask him something, but what could he possibly say? He was raised in the Underground without any knowledge of his heritage. He knew nothing about her family, and she knew nothing about his. Maybe it was her grief over losing her parents talking, but… she wanted to get to know him.

"Hey, Hanji, we've got a couple more prisoners!" Moblit called out.

The Section Commander turned to see Moblit and Jean leading the youngest MPs she had seen at the outpost, a man with a bowl-cut, and a woman with wavy, light-brown hair. Definitely recent graduates of the Cadet Corps, though it didn't seem like the others recognized them. They had to be from another branch. What gave Hanji pause was that there wasn't a single scratch on either of the MPs. Most of them at least put up some sort of fight, but there was no indication that they actually engaged in combat. That can only mean one thing.

"Were you two hiding this whole time?" Hanji asked in a false, sweet tone.

The woman gave her a withering glare before spitting right in her face.

"Hitch, no!" her comrade pleaded, eyes widened in shock.

Angered, Moblit shoved Hitch's face into the ground. "Show her respect, you little bitch."

"Let her be, Moblit," Hanji ordered calmly while she removed her glasses to clean them. "I'm sure a giant spitball won't kill me. Well, maybe from a Titan, it could. I'll have to ask Annie."

"Annie? She's here?" The man sounded oddly hopeful for an MP.

Hitch scoffed at his reaction as she was forced to her knees along with her comrade. "And what are you going to do, Marlowe? Congratulate her recent killing spree in Yarckel? Oh, wait. Nothing can ever top the graveyard in Stohess. She deserves a fucking medal. You all do!" Pure hatred filled her amber eyes like an inferno seeking to consume all in its path. "You're not heroes. You're-"

"We never claimed to be heroes, you idiot," Levi interrupted, approaching them with Mikasa trailing behind him. He eyed the prisoners carefully. "You two are from the Stohess District, aren't you?"

Marlowe gulped, knowing full well what kind of man Levi was, and nodded his head. "Y-Yes sir."

"You probably lost friends, maybe even family because of us, right?" Levi let out a sigh. It was so easy to fall back on how they did what they had to do for the sake of humanity. In fact, that almost came out of his mouth, but he stopped himself. He wasn't good at this stuff.

The ground began shaking, signaling the return of the Female Titan. Hitch shrieked in horror and ducked her head. She had never seen Annie-no, the Female Titan before, but she knew what she was capable of. In a few moments, she appeared out of the forest before skidding to a halt, kicking up dirt and grass in the process.

"Gelgar! Nanaba!" Hanji exclaimed joyously as the survivors of Utgard were lowered to the ground.

Nanaba winced when she was embraced in a bone-crushing hug, but she wouldn't trade it for the world after the day she had. "Good to see you, too, Hanji," she grunted.

Annie was about to carve herself out of her Titan form when she took notice of two, familiar MPs. "Oh… it's them." Her expression was neutral, but her voice was somewhat sour.

"You know these two?" Levi questioned, somewhat surprised by hearing her mental voice in his head. Seemed like the psychic idiot didn't remove all the mind links.

"Back when I was an MP in Stohess. Should've guessed they'd be dragged into this mess." Annie remembered all the times she fantasized all the ways she could kill Hitch, the most annoying roommate she had in her life. Seeing that same woman shivering in terror on the ground made the Shifter feel some guilt once more. Once again, she was ready to pull herself out, but Levi stopped her.

"Hold it. Wait until nightfall," he commanded. "Last thing we need is a smoke signal, and we're going to need that form to get inside Sina."

Annie grumbled to herself, but she kept her silence. Glued to Titan form for the rest of the day wasn't necessarily a terrible thing, though having to watch her step all the time was going to be an annoyance.

Gelgar strode up to the captain and saluted, his face grim. "The four of us… we're all that's left. Sir, I take full responsibility for-"

"Save it, Gelgar," Levi interrupted sternly. "You're not the only one who lost people to the MPs. You want punishment? Live." He glanced at the two, young cadets. "And while you're at it, drag their sorry asses to the holding cells."

"Captain Levi, let me help you, please!"

All conversation ceased as several pairs of eyes landed on Marlowe. He stiffened at the sudden attention he was getting, though he didn't backtrack his declaration.

"Marlowe, shut up!" Hitch hissed. "This isn't the time for your dumbass crusade."

"They're the only chance we have at surviving the Titans," he reminded her. "We can't just sit by and watch them get killed off one by one."

After all this time, he hadn't changed since the last time Annie saw him. Still, the possibility of this being some sort of setup had crossed her mind. Too much had happened for anyone to be trusted implicitly. She may have despised the Scouts for forcing themselves into her mind, but she truly understood the situation, especially now.

Levi had the same line of thought as he decided to address the rookie MP. "You can talk, but I don't know a damn thing about you, kid." He glanced up at the Female Titan. "You decide what to do with them, Leonhart. I really don't care."

With a curt nod, Annie swiped Marlowe off the ground and held him up to her face. She wished Dillon was here to set up more mental links, but since he was unavailable, she would have to improvise.

Hitch began struggling like a wild animal against Moblit. "Let him go, you bitch!" she shouted.

Once again, Moblit forced her to eat dirt. "Will you knock it off already!?"

Marlowe swallowed his fear of being in the grip of a Titan as best he could, but it wasn't easy. His life was in her hands. "Annie, you… you switched sides. At first, you were trying to destroy humanity. Now, you're trying to save it."

She snorted at his ignorance even though it wasn't his fault. While her goals finally aligned with the idealists of this country, she defected out of selfishness. Simple as that.

The cadet continued. "We don't know each other very well, but I think you have a sense of good judgment."

Hitch barked out a harsh laugh. "Are we living on the same planet, Marlowe? She's a murderer, for God's sake! What, do you have a hard-on for her or something? Is that what this is!?"

"I swear if you utter one syllable of a love confession, I will pop your head off your shoulders!" Annie threatened with a glare. She had enough of those to last her a lifetime.

"Uh, I don't think he heard that," Jean said sheepishly.

Now, Marlowe was confused. "Wait, what are you talking about? She's not-."

"...Why?" Like the last time she spoke, it came out incredibly raspy like her vocal chords were being rubbed by sandpaper. At least it was only one word this time.

"Why what?" Was he seriously that dense?

Rolling her eyes, the Female Titan pointed to him and then pointed at Levi. If that wasn't enough of an indicator to what she meant, she would probably throw him as far as she could.

Thankfully, Marlowe took the hint and answered with, "It's like I said: you guys are the only ones fighting and killing Titans. None of the MPs do that. I know I will have to work with someone like you, Annie, but if it means that-."

"In… for… may… shun…" Damn those long words. Annie made a mental note to start learning how to talk in her Titan form because this was getting old very fast.

Hanji decided to help her out. "Look, kid, unless you have anything to offer other than being a meat shield, you'll have to do better than pass a character analysis. Do you know where Rod Reiss is?"

"No, but-"

"Of course he doesn't. He's too green to be trusted with that kind of information," Levi inferred with a roll of his eyes. "Make up your mind already, Leonhart. We're wasting time."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Marlowe protested frantically. "I think I know where he could be."

A growl emanated from Annie's throat as her narrowed eyes were ready to incinerate him on the spot.

That turned him into a stuttering mess, but he was able to get his point across. "There-there-there's a chapel east of the, uh, the, uh… Orvud District! It's owned by Rod Reiss."

"You mean the one that was destroyed?" Nanaba questioned once she decided to get in on this. "Nice try, but that's a dead end."

Hanji gasped, inspiration hitting her hard. "Wait a minute! Everyone, when was the Reiss Chapel destroyed?"

"Shortly after Shiganshina fell," Armin answered. "Why?" He recoiled when he found himself in the grip of the mad scientist.

"And when did Eren's father disappear? Roughly around the same time, right?" She was shaking him as if the answers she sought were going to fall out of his pockets.

"Y-Yes, Section Commander. Please stop!"

Annie's eyes widened as the realization hit her square in the face. The answer had been right in front of them this whole time… and she failed to realize it until now. Quickly, she lowered Marlowe to the ground, who stumbled backwards from the dizziness he experienced from being sent down so fast. Small price to pay since Annie took her frustration out of an unoccupied watchtower, punching it hard with a hardened fist. The top half hit the ground hard with a resounding boom that shook the earth, bricks scattering all over the area as a result.

"You done?" Taking out frustrations with an attack was something Levi could get behind. Destroying the property of the Scout Regiment in the process? Not so much.

"We don't have time for that," Hanji cut in with a wave of her hand. It was time to take command of the squad. "Gelgar, Nanaba, secure the outpost until we get back. Dauper's militia should be able to give you a hand with that. Make sure these prisoners are attended to. The rest of you, we're going to take a ride to the chapel. Annie, make some room!"

Whatever time they had left was running out. All the distractions prevented them from seeing the blindingly obvious. If this error wasn't corrected soon, Eren would be devoured and the Coordinate would be lost forever.

The Squad Leader blinked, then smiled a small, knife-edged thing. He glanced at his party of men, about twelve of them in total, flanking him both sides. Had they really just gotten as lucky as he thought they had? Was the carriage rolling their way in possession of their target, Dimo Reeves? Wow. This just got easier. Clearly, those tongue-impaired hunters at Dauper weren't good at hospitality.

"Standard formation, stand ready," he ordered, pleased with how steady and even he sounded. He gave another glance as he watched his men move into position, watched those who weren't part of the Interior Brigade fumbled around in a bid to look like they had a clue as to what they were doing. Of the twelve of them, including himself, only four were members of the Interior Brigade, but it couldn't be helped. The Brigade was being stretched thin as it was, suffering casualties from the Scouts while some of their best were with Captain Ackerman. Because of this, regular MP members were being drafted into their group to buff up their numbers.

It was such a hassle, ordering these people without letting anything personal slip. He had to threaten one of them into silence for questioning his orders with bodily harm. The sooner they got Reeves, the better. If his son were there too, it would make the Squad Leader's day. The sight of their dead bodies would make him even happier. Doing so would accelerate the annihilation of the Scouting Regiment.

To sate his bloodlust for the moment, for nothing more than the sheer pleasure of ending something living, the Squad Leader aimed his gun and blew the horse's skull to mush. The equine garbled a sound that might have been a neigh as it toppled forward, legs collapsing under it. The carriage soon collided into its rump and turned onto its side. The regular MPs took steps back as the carriage screeched to a stop while the Interior Brigade members didn't even twitch. A figure garbed in an unmarked, green cloak stumbled out of the carriage, falling to his hands and knees.

"Mr. Reeves," the Squad Leader addressed the figure. "We have orders for your arrest. If you surrender peacefully, I promise you will be treated with respect." And a bullet to the back of the head, but the tubby merchant didn't need to know that.

The figure slowly climbed to his feet as rifles aimed with miraculous speed. Without a word, the figure removed his cloak and the Squad Leader immediately frowned because it wasn't stout, balding, aging Dimo Reeves but a tall, young man. A young man dressed in military clothes.

Eyes darting to the symbol on the jacket's breast pocket, seeing the Wings of Freedom, the frown upon the Squad Leader's lips turned back into that knife edged smile. Perhaps he could return to Captain Ackerman and not get his throat slit. His superior had killed men for lesser reasons.

"I suppose this was meant to be some kind of diversion." he said, pitching his voice higher, glancing around at the shadows between the trees. "Or an ambush!" He waited, but no attack was forthcoming. No… did this boy really…?

The Squad Leader barked a short laugh. "You've got some serious stones, kid; coming here by your lonesome." Making this fact apparent, the rest of his men suddenly stood straight. Became more confident.

The kid, in contrast, didn't so much as twitch, even when the Squad Leader aimed his gun at his head.

"Do you have a death wish?" It was almost a serious question, because when he really looked at the boy past his symbol, he saw that he didn't look well. His face was pale and drawn under his brown hair, eyes of similar colour raw and red rimmed.

Sick as he looked, there was nothing wrong with his voice even if it was slightly hoarse: "I'm gonna say this once, to all those who clearly have no idea what they're doing here: Leave!"

The Squad Leader glanced around, eyes flashing with the promise of pain to any who so much as imagined running. He didn't look at his fellow Interior members. They knew as well as he that desertion was punishable by death at Kenny the Ripper's hands. Once certain that no one would flee, seeing similar bloodlust and resigned grimness, he gazed back at the boy. Waited for his next move.

His next move was to sigh deeply, to close his eyes with a look of exhaustion covering his face like a shadow. "Fine then." And then those eyes snapped open. They smoked with fury. "COME ON!" His roar had such power behind it that it made some of the MPs flinch.

The Squad Leader should have shot him. One bullet to the skull and the boy would look no better than the horse. But the boy had come alone, and he was just one kid, and he seemed so desperate to try and be a hero. He would have to teach him what happened to heroes, especially this brain-dead specimen. Returning his gun to its holster, and brandishing a knife with a curve matched his smile, the Squad Leader charged for the kill.

So deep in his bloodlust, he missed how the boy's eyes changed.

Nile Dok was in a bad mood. He sat at his desk, a dark furrow upon his brow as he looked without really seeing the document in his hand. Some mess about funds for the Military Police. As if they weren't already well-funded. He tried to focus, but all he could think of was Erwin Smith. The man who was once his closest friend, a future leader he'd of happily followed to the ends of the earth now down an arm and facing judgement at the hands of merciless council. And Nile was here, safely tucked away in the same place he had run to when he had left Erwin all those years prior, doing nothing while his friend put his life on the line.

"Damn it," Nile gave up on the document and threw it onto his desk, massaging his forehead. Moments like these were why he hated Erwin. The blond man somehow always managed to make people think non-beneficial things by doing nothing but talk to them. It was something he thought he had grown out of.

A knock at the door called his attention and in walked a squad leader who looked more than a little frazzled. "Sorry for bothering you, Commander, but there's someone who wants to speak with you... immediately." The man was promptly shoved inside with none other than an armed Dimo Reeves right behind him.

"Hello, Nile," the merchant greeted as he shut the door. Once locked, Dimo bashed the pistol as hard as he could against the back of the squad leader's head. He went down like a cart of bricks. Quick for a man his age, he, then, aimed right at the commander's chest. "We need to talk."

Nile stared silently at the intruder, slowly raising his hands. He had encountered Dimo on only a couple of occasions, but those glimpses never revealed the recklessness he was exhibiting now. "Mr. Reeves… do you have the slightest clue what you are doing?"

Dimo nodded his head slowly. "A few days ago, I wouldn't have dreamed of storming your Headquarters like this, but these are desperate times."

Shouts erupted from the other side of the door, signaling the arrival of reinforcements. A few well-placed shots would turn the door into splinters, and make the merchant a dead man.

"Listen up!" Dimo yelled loud enough for the MPs to pay attention for a change. He did not take his eyes off of Nile for even a second. "I have your Commander at gunpoint! If anyone so much as touches the door for any reason, I will shoot him. I may die, but not before I take the commander with me."

A few, undecipherable murmurs were sounded as the soldiers tried to decide on the best course of action.

Fortunately, Nile knew exactly what to do. "Do as the man says!" he ordered. "Right now, everyone is still alive. We're going to keep it that way. Is that clear?" When there was no immediate response, he spoke up. "I said, 'Is that clear!?"'

"Yes, sir!" For all of their faults, at least the MPs respected his authority.

"Good choice, Nile, but I'm afraid my trust in you is still lacking. Remove your pistol carefully."

The commander fixed him with a glare while he did as he was told. The gun hit the floor with a clatter, causing some marks to form on the wood. All instincts demanded he should've taken a chance and shot the bastard, but Dimo was a respected merchant within Wall Rose. The detective within him demanded to get to the bottom of this.

To his surprise, Dimo gestured to the door. "Now barricade the door in case they get any bright ideas of interrupting our meeting."

With a snort, he moved his settee against the door. It would have been easier if he had help, but considering the help was lying face down on the floor unconscious, he had to make do. Once done, he turned to see the merchant closing the curtains and taking a seat at his desk.

"Have a seat, Commander Dok," he offered, gesturing to the spare chair across from the commandeered desk. "We have much to discuss."

It took all of Nile's willpower not to growl at him, but his cool head prevailed when he sat down, the chair creaking ever so slightly under his weight. "Assaulting an officer and holding me hostage guarantees life in prison if you survive long enough, Dimo," he warned. "What the hell made you think this bullheaded idea was worth it?"

The portly man chuckled a little bit. "I admit that I channeled a little bit of Erwin, and now, I can see why he does such things. The great risk leading to the great reward. It's exhilarating. Haven't felt like this in years." He cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed by the tangent. "I got ahead of myself there. Let's start with the simple reason I'm here: the First Interior Squad is currently after my head."

The mere mention of that squad was enough to turn Nile's gut. A specialized group of soldiers who operated in the dark without his oversight. He had no idea who they answered to, but he knew enough not to cross them. "And what did you do to earn their ire?" he questioned cautiously.

"I ensured a good portion of that squad would be eliminated and the rest captured by the Scouts," Dimo answered simply.

"So, you sided with the Scouting Regiment. You know what that makes you."

"In the eyes of the morally bankrupt and corrupt government, a traitor. It's only fair they receive what they have given me: a stranglehold on their operations." He leaned in closer, his countenance darkening slightly. "Nile, you are many things, but an idiot isn't one of them. You know things haven't been adding up. Minister Nick's death, the attack in Trost, and the vanishing of Eren Yeager and Historia Reiss. It all adds up. The government is finally making its move against them, against us, yet here you are sitting in your office doing absolutely nothing to stop it."

"Don't you think I want to stop it?" Nile hissed, his face reddening from the anger he kept buried. "Ever since I became the commander of the Military Police, I have witnessed the sheer darkness humanity has to offer. Taxes forcing good men and women into the streets and into the Underground, nobles ending the careers of officers they didn't like, and officers sworn to uphold the law having their way drugs, guns, money, and women." His fingernails dug into the palm of his hand from the rage coursing through his body. "I was a Lieutenant looking to make a difference in this shithole. I went against the orders of my superiors and apprehended a well-connected noble selling drugs to the Underground. Did I get a commendation? Did I get fired? No. They came to my home and beat me within an inch of my life. They put a gun against the stomach of my pregnant wife!"

Dimo wasn't a stranger to the horrors within the Walls, but knowing that the commander of the Military Police suffered such brutality was unthinkable, to say the least. Were this any other situation, he would have offered his condolences.

Nile shuddered at the memory. "At that moment, my will was broken… and the bastards knew it. The previous commander took a bigger bite from his cutbacks than he should have, and he was disposed of. The Interior Squad needed a new commander, so they selected me, a man that could be controlled so easily. Siding against Erwin was easy given how many soldiers he sacrificed with every Expedition. But the other things…" His voice dropped down to barely a whisper. "How do I sleep at night?"

Before Dimo could respond, Nile shot his leg out, kicking the desk. It bumped the merchant backwards slightly, though his surprise was all the commander needed. He dove to the floor and retrieved his pistol. Coming back up, he took aim just as Dimo did the same.

"Your part in this revolution ends here, Mr. Reeves," Nile stated coldly, the iron mask of a leader returning. "Put the gun down, or you die."

"My death guarantees a revolt, Nile," Dimo told him, though he was impressed by the man's quick-thinking. "There are too many fires for the government to put out. Whose head do you think they'll come for when the people are out of control."

"I'll make it work!" And just like that, the composure was gone. "I have to! It's my only choice."

"You have another choice, one that you've always feared to take because that's the road Erwin has followed to the end." The merchant steeled his resolve. "That's why you hate him so much. His willingness to sacrifice everything and everyone for the sake of his goals, his ambitions. You would sooner sacrifice yourself than place someone you care for in harm's way. Two uncompromising extremes always at war with each other. Tell me I'm wrong!"

"You ask me to trade one bastard for another," Nile spat furiously. "At least the government will leave my family alone if I do as they say. Erwin is unpredictable. If he thinks, for one second, he can gain the upper hand by slaughtering the people I love, he will do it without a second thought!"

"If the government is so predictable, then keep this in mind. People are getting killed in the streets. Scouts, MPs, civilians, everyone is fair game. The other Scout leaders, the Female Titan, Dillon Amsdale, are all still out there. The government failed to kill me, and they are constantly losing soldiers. You are not getting out of this unscathed, Commander, so you need to decide what to do right here, right now. You can shoot me and be a hero, turn back on your principles and rally the MPs against the Scouts. Sure, many will die, but the numbers of the Scouts will dwindle one way or the other. Not to mention that guarantees your family lives a little bit longer until the next revolution. Or you can side with a man you despise, put the lives of your family at risk in an effort to be the man you once were. If you lose, it's all of our heads, but if you win, you will be free. With the Interior Squad stretched thin, this is your only chance. Take it… or don't."

Nile clenched his teeth as he came at the crossroads. A question of trust, that's what it all boiled down to. The government he was chained to, or the old friend who risked it all. Quite frankly, his faith in either was quite low. Both were evil in their own regards, forcing him to try to determine which one was less. In the end, his mind drifted to his expectant wife and kids all waiting for him to come home. Would the door open with guns on the other side? Would a Titan's foot crush their house without a second thought? Or… could he go home?

With a heavy heart, Nile pulled the trigger.

A dark storm brewed in Dillon's head. From the crown of his skull to the soles of his feet, every part of him felt heavy, bristling like a cloud ready to unleash the downpour, release the storm and let it rage in all its fury. But instead of being lost within this storm of his own making, he was in the eye of the storm and there was stillness, calmness. In this calmness, he felt a hold over his power that was unlike anything he had ever known before. He could feel the churn and seethe of his power and had complete control.

In this calmness, as he watched a man lunge towards him, radiating death, he put his power forth and it closed around the man like a giant hand. He became still, combat knife stopping inches away from his face, his would-be murderer losing the smile matched the blade in his hand. He didn't give him time to ponder, bringing forth his own knife from the sheath on the small of his back and slashing it across the man's neck. The hand unclenched and the man dropped, gargling.

Dillon didn't feel anything, scalding hot blood running down his face.

He scanned the others, took count of how many there were, and was hardly shocked when those with rifles immediately aimed once they saw the silver glow of his eyes. He reached out and each rifle was torn from its owner's hand, flung onto the ground of his feet. Like he'd let him have the advantage.

He examined the group again, focusing mainly on those who wore the same clothes as the dead man at his feet, counting the number of them to the number of regular MPs. Crimson dripped from the blade in his hand as he took a few leading steps forward. "Well?"

The single word jump-started the battle.

One MP charged towards him, howling, swinging his knife like an axe that Dillon sidestepped quickly, latching onto the arm with a vice-like grip with his left hand as he poured his power into his right fist. This made the man's head snap to and fro from a whirling right hook and back fist before flattening the nose with a single hit. Using the hold on his arm to throw the stunned man to the ground, Dillon quickly bent down to take possession of the knife. Getting back up, power focused in his leg and the kick he gave to his next attacker's diaphragm sent him hurdling into three other soldiers behind him.

Then, without pause, he flipped the blade in his left hand and drove it into the skull of another member of the Interior Brigade, twisting it. Dillon saw the shock in his eyes before they went dim. Letting go, the man dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. In the Eye, these deaths had as much effect on Dillon as a winter breeze. In the Eye, he was beyond feeling guilt, beyond feeling its suffocating effects.

Despite this, his brain had not stopped working. He had not forgotten the more than likely possibility that those regular MPs probably had no idea why they had been dragged into this conflict. There was no need to kill them.

With that in mind, when the next MP came at him as he returned his blade to its sheath, Dillon used the momentum of a punch aimed for his face to throw the man over his shoulders and he delivered a quick kick to the head to stun him. The next MP, he kicked in the knee of his leading leg to knock it from out under him. Now kneeling, hurting, he was in the perfect position for Dillon to introduce his own knee to the man's nose. He felt it give under the strike as he fell onto his back.

He barely reacted in time to catch a kick, rolling out of its way and catching the limb by the ankle with his left hand, using his right elbow to strike at the man's throat. As the man choked, he swiftly repositioned himself so he was then holding onto the leg with his right hand under the knee and his left hand having a secure purchase of the shoulder, driving his knee into the man's groin. As the man began his descent, Dillon lashed out with his left foot and broke the man's right knee, making his high pitched sound of pain explode into a shout.

When he dropped, arms closed around Dillon and he thrashed, desperate to escape. He threw his head back, catching his enemy's chin and weakening the hold around him. Bending, still within the arms, he managed to place his right hand on the small of the back of his attacker whilst his left went behind the thigh of the left leg. His power collected into his arms and he had the strength to hoist the man off his feet, letting gravity do the rest as he then dropped him onto his knee. There was a crack, and the MP went limp. Dillon tossed him aside and he did not get back up.

He wouldn't kill the MPs, but he wouldn't show them mercy. He had given them their chance and they had refused to take it. Whatever he did to them would be on their heads.

In the Eye, he did not think of his friends, the disappointment in their eyes as his actions came to light. He did not think of Levi and his blatant threat to murder him in his sleep. He most certainly did not think of Annie, turning away from him when he needed her the most, never once looking back as she walked away, leaving him with nothing.

All he thought was: "Four down, eight to go."

And perhaps it was this minor thought that caused Dillon to miss the person stepping up behind him, landing a solid kick onto his back that sent him forward. Dillon used this motion to his advantage, however, rolling forward to move into a crouch that would have had his teeth kicked out by one of the MPs in front of him if he hadn't already seen him. The kick was met with an elbow, right on the ankle joint. It stopped the kick dead and made the man cry out in pain, and Dillon made that cry rise to a higher pitch as he then grasped the foot by both ends and breaking it.

Getting back to his feet, he intercepted the downwards stab of his next opponent and maneuvered his arm so the blade of his knife deflected the slash of another attacker. Keeping a firm grip with his left hand, his move to jut his right elbow into the man's ribs barely afforded him enough time to lurch his body back to avoid the next swing of the second attacker's knife. Said attacker fell naturally into a crouch, flipped the blade in hand for a backwards stab for the legs but Dillon was ready with a kick to the face. A kick that connected with an already flattened nose. The MP whose nose he had broken earlier, he realised dimly. And the man whose arm he held sported a blooming bruise on his head.

Said man dropped his knife in favour of trying for a knee but Dillon saw the move coming as if in slow motion and drove his own right leg up to block. He barely registered the pain, this time jutting his right elbow into the man's solar plexus to knock the wind out of him. Grabbing him to reverse their positions, he began to punch him on the bruise again and again but a sound of metal drew his attention and he just caught sight of the Interior Brigade member aiming at him to move the bruised man in the line of fire.

The bruised man's neck exploded in a fountain of blood and gore, splattering Dillon's face crimson as the body fell upon him. The bullet might have even run through his skull if he hadn't leaned back in time with the gun's burst. Dead weight holding him down, crimson continued to rain down on him. It was everywhere. It turned his vision red, filled his nose with the smell of metal, his mouth-

All he could taste was blood.

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't-

He felt-

He felt himself fall hard and without pause out of the Eye, into the raging swirl of the storm within. And suddenly, terribly, emotions tore through his skull: Guilt, horror, despair, heartbreak, loneliness. All emotions he had been trying to block out, repress, returned with a vengeance.

Spitting out a mouthful of coppery fluid, he squinted to see the second Interior MP loaded his weapon with murderous intent. Reacting blindly, Dillon forced his power into his arms and the dead body bleeding into him was sent hurtling into the man. The one who had just made the corpse he had tossed away was stalking towards him, reloading, but Dillon's hands were already moving to his knife and sending it whistling through the air, impacting into the man's hip. With a cry, he went down to one knee as Dillon rose to his feet, trying to wipe his face clean and succeeding in only smearing the blood.

With his left hand, eyes burning silver, he reached out. He had packed a few supplies before departing from Dauper, just in case he would lose his knife. Like now, for instance. From the wreck that had been his carriage, a hammer flew into his hand. He stalked towards the murderer before him and savagely swung the hummer at his head, knocking him to the ground on a second backhand swing. By right, those blows were enough to kill a man but Dillon was too deep within the storm and a lifetime of forging came into the forefront of his mind as he rose the hammer up high and, with a snarl more bestial than human, he brought the hammer down and turned the man's skull to pulp.

For a moment, he observed the death he had wrought and was only dimly aware of feelings of horror and disgust that rang through his heart. Distant feelings, like animal noises resounding deeply within the forest. He looked away from the dead man at his feet, at the terrified faces looking back at him.

Five left, four regular MPs and one final Interior Brigade member.

He dropped the hammer and spat a wad of blood. "Come on." He growled.

Now within the storm, his mind was ablaze with emotions and memories. His impenetrable calm was replaced by a mounting fury that unlocked itself deep from within his chest and swelled to encompass his entire being like a raging flame. It came flooding back. It all came flooding back. His failures and hurts, his losses and sins, the truth of his misbegotten life and family. But this rage and despair gave Dillon power just as great as the Eye had. With each spear of guilt, with each horrid recollection, his Psion power flared.

When he halted the wild slash of a frightened MP, Jean's fist cracked out from Dillon's memory to collide with the man's solar plexus, knocking both the wind from his lungs and the knife from his hand. Securing his grip, he shoved him into the MP trying to get in at his side and backhanded his meat shield to stun him.

When another MP came charging from behind, the cold fury of Captain Levi filled Dillon's leg and turned his kick into that from a horse, colliding squarely into the man's hip and all but folding him over.

Knocking back the Interior Brigade member with a front kick, who recovered quickly to then point his weapon directly at Dillon's face, his father's final words ("I will always love you…my son.") knocked it aside just as the man pulled the trigger. Whether by design or sheer happenstance, the bullet cut through the chest of one of the MPs. He dropped instantly.

Snarling, aware of a fresh stream of blood leaking from his nose, Dillon drove his knee into the stomach of MP in his hands and, once he bent over in pain, drove that same knee into the man's head, knocking him out. Now unburdened, he spun with his left leg jutting out that brought his heel against the point of the chin of the man whose nose he had flattened with a crack, knocking the MP down. Sounded like he'd broken his neck.

He was beyond caring at this point.

Ducking a swipe that could have taken off the top of his skull, Dillon blocked the backhand swipe with both hands, one by the elbow and the other by the wrist. Taking firm hold of the extended limb with the latter hand, he rocked the elbow of his free arm into the man's chest. As he gasped for air, Dillon returned his free hand to the elbow and, pressing the curve of his hand into the elbow joint while forcing the arm upwards with his other hand. Bending the arm forcefully, the knife sunk into the MPs' throat and, with a final burst of strength, Dillon threw the man aside to the ground.

He staggered, swayed where he stood, exhalation threatening to crush him before he forcefully shook it off. But it was this minor pause that gave the final Interior Brigade member all the time in the world to rush him, slamming into him to send both of them crashing to the ground. His full weight upon him, the man grabbed Dillon by the head and slammed his skull against the ground. His head rebounded from the solid dirt with a dull crack that left Dillon's ears ringing and then those hands were about his neck, clenching.

Suddenly, Dillon couldn't breathe. Eyes widening, thrashing, his own hands tried to pry the one curling over his throat to no avail. He was too tried, too spent—

Then he saw Annie, her back to him. "I'll make sure the Scouts won't kill you," She had said, as if she hadn't just killed him herself, hadn't torn the only remaining light from his life. "Goodbye Dillon."

A howl welled up inside him: a roar of dark fury raised to the level of exaltation. It was locked in his throat, beneath the grip of the killer hunched over him, but it rang in his ears anyway, echoing across the forest like the roar of a Titan. And this roar became power that flowed like a gale and Dillon imagined the sponge-like organ that made up this man's Everything within his skull. Pictured it so clearly as if he was holding it within his hands.

Then he imagined those hands closing over it, crushing it.

The Interior Brigade MP's sounds of exertion broke into gasps and chokes, eyes becoming red and tearing with crimson. His voice trailed off into a death rattle as he pitched forwards, collapsing at Dillon's side.

Now, the Psion was alone , among the dead and wounded. The dark storm in his head dispersed and all power bleached from his body.

For a moment he laid there, coughing, rolling to his side with a whimper, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him. Wishing that one of the men he hadn't slaughtered would get up and finish him. Anything. Anything would be better than the pain he felt. Not a physical one though there was some, but an internal pain, deep within his chest.

Again, he had fulfilled his purpose as a living weapon. He had lived up to the expectations his mother had wanted from him, a machine of genocide with a beating heart. A tool to turn the tide in the Walls favour regardless of the suffering said tool endured in the process. He had been the very thing Zackley had wanted from him.

"You are the greatest weapon we have ever received." Those words echoed through his mind, poisonous as if falling from the tongue of a serpent. They speared through him, constricting around his heart and leaving him as breathless as they had the first time he had heard them, spiralling, desperate for a time when this revelation did not exist, when things made sense. He recalled his desperate search for reason to deny these words. Reason to crush and crumple them and throw them back at the cruel, old man who had spoken them.

A search in vain, he knew now. And deep down, in a place where he dared not to look, he's not surprised. Because Zackley was right, and one could not crush the truth and throw it back at the one who presented it. One could not hide from the truth, no matter how much they may have wanted to. And now, in truth's harsh light, Dillon realized that it was all he had. The only thing he had left. This one perfect, terrible moment in which it all came together once more, where he, after so long wandering and wondering why it had to be him, finally knew the truth.

And he's suddenly all too aware of the blood he has spilt, that he was drenched, soaked in blood. It covered his face, filled his nose and laced his tongue with its metallic taste.

The blood his father—

"Stop this!" The voice echoed through his skull like a crack of thunder. A voice Dillon did not want to hear. "Stop this thinking, Dillon, you're only hurting yourself!"

"Shut up," Dillon hissed, rolling onto his knees and hands. "I don't want to hear it."

"I told you- I told you not to let anger cloud who you are! You're stronger than this! You're-"

"YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" Dillon howled, wishing for a blinding moment he could reach out and tear Ymir out of his skull. "I have lost everything, everything. You do not have any right to tell me how to act! How to feel!"

"Dillon, please!"

"Get out!" Dillon smashed his head against the ground, blinded with fury. He ground his forehead against the dirt, snarling. "Get out of my head; leave me alone!"

He waited until Ymir's voice drifted from his mind, until there was nothing but silence.

And then, only then, Dillon got to his feet and stumbled back to Dauper. He did not check on Dimo through their temporary link. Just like any other time in his life, his suffering would only benefit someone else in the end.

AN: Damn, it feels good to get this chapter out. Lord willing I won't take nearly as much time working on the next one. Let's break it down.

The biggest writer's block moment that kept me from posting this chapter sooner was the whole thing with Dimo and Dillon. I didn't know how to make it work in a way that would be interesting. After several drafts, nothing was good. It was only when Godzilla offered his assistance that I finally took it, and man, did he run with it. The battle scenes are incredible because of him. I can understand if some of you dislike the length, but you can't deny the imagery. I'll admit that there was a part of me that wanted to change it quite a bit because… something is gonna happen, but I decided against it for two reasons.

1. The scene is freaking awesome.

2. When I really thought about it, and I hope you will, too, down the line, it's gonna make what happens next concerning Dillon a lot more impactful.

The scene with Nile and Dimo was something Godzilla and I worked together on, though I know he'll be surprised at how much I've changed it up. Personally, and I may have said this before, I think Nile is a good man who got caught up in the hellhole that is the Interior. His arguments against Erwin have always been valid, so it made me believe he's someone who does care about the welfare of the people. That begged the question: why did he never fight against it? Then, I remembered his family, and that answered all the questions for me. Also, I never thought I'd have as much fun writing Dimo, but here we are.

Now, I suppose the only "filler" in this chapter is the beginning. If you guys find it weak compared to the rest, it probably is. I was tempted to save it for the next chapter, but then I decided the Uprising Arc has been stretched for too long as it is. It's high time we reach the endgame. Despite the out-of-place scene, I still want to discuss one aspect of it.

It has always bothered me that Mikasa and Levi learning they share the same last name is so briefly touched on. I thought that would change their relationship (not like that, shippers!) in light of this knowledge, add more depth to their characters. Sadly, unless I've missed something, nothing was really done with this. It was like, "We share the same name. We have superpowers. Moving on." This has quite a bit of potential, and I hope to do it justice.

Marlowe and Hitch. I had quite a bit of fun having them reunite with Annie even if it was just for a short time. I hope you guys spotted the callback.

That's really all I have to say. Next chapter, we're finally heading to the Crystal Caves and I'm very excited. I might have to enlist Godzilla's help for the battle since there are a lot more players, but we shall see. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I look forward to your reviews, please give some love to my TV Tropes page, and I'll see you all in the next one.