dedicate your heart

The cold, restless wind tugged at Sloane’s cloak as it swept through the desolate ruins of Shiganshina. Above, dark clouds churned in slow and menacing. The air itself seemed to hum with tension, a foreboding whisper carried on the breeze, as if the sky was bracing for the bloodshed about to unfold.

Erwin’s voice echoed in the stillness, the finality of his command hanging in the space between her and Levi. She stood frozen, feeling her pulse throb loudly in her ears as she looked at him. For years, they had fought side by side as one, instinctively moving in sync, always guarding each other's backs. But now they were to be separated, sent to fight on opposite sides of the Wall and thrown into the fray without the other’s presence. 

Sloane’s fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her palms as if the physical pain could smother the sinking dread brewing within. What was Erwin thinking? How could he demand this of them? Was he really willing to gamble so recklessly again, when the fate of humanity’s survival hung by a thread?

The questions swirled through her mind, each one louder than the last, but she shoved them down, forcing herself to stay silent. There was no room for doubts. Not now. Not when so much was at stake. She had always followed the commander without question, placing her faith in his vision even when it seemed impossible to understand. After all, he had led them this far, hadn’t he? She had to trust that he knew what he was doing, even if his decision threatened to tear her apart from the inside.

A tightness coiled in her chest as her gaze found Levi amidst the chaos. For a fleeting moment, everything around them seemed to dissolve. The shouts of soldiers, the clamor of preparations, the distant rumbling of Titans—She heard none of it. All she saw was him: calm, steady, and firm. As always. His eyes, those familiar steel blue eyes, so sharp and intense… How many times had she drawn strength from them? How often had she relied on it to anchor her when everything else felt uncertain?

But she still felt unsettled. After spending two agonizing months of barely speaking to each other, only able to steal glimpses and exchange a quick word, they had just found their footing around each other once again. The idea of leaving his side shouldn't unnerve her like this. She was a soldier, a captain. She'd fought for her strength, her resilience, her independence. And yet, here she was, hesitating turning away. Is it a weakness to lean on someone like this, Sloane thought.

Levi’s expression remained impassive, the mask of indifference that rarely cracked. Yet, beneath that hardened exterior, Sloane caught a fleeting shift. So quick and subtle that anyone else might have missed it, brushed it off as a trick of the light. But not her. She caught it in the faint tautness of his jaw, the almost imperceptible shift in his fingers, flexing once before settling stiffly at his sides. It wasn’t much, but enough to make her wonder: Was it tension? Uncertainty? Was he struggling, just like her, beneath the calm he wore so effortlessly?

The silence stretched between them. She almost spoke, her lips parting. But what could she possibly say? What wouldn’t unravel her completely? What wouldn’t strip away the composure she clung to? She swallowed hard, pushing down the plea that hung in the back of her throat. Please come back. Come back to— No. Now wasn’t the time for that. She was a soldier, and soldiers didn’t let their hearts speak when duty called. 

Still, she needed to say something. Even if the worst came, it couldn’t end without a word between them. Finally, her voice emerged, barely a murmur, softer than she intended.

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

She’d spoken those words more times than she could count. But today, they carried a weight she hadn’t expected. Yet, they were all she could offer in a moment like this.

All he did was nod, the barest tilt of his head, but it was enough to let her know he understood. He always did. 

Her gaze drifted aimlessly over the wreckage, each fragment a shapeless blur as she struggled to grasp the remnants of reality. A relentless throb pulsed in her head. A dense fog muddled her thoughts, pierced only by the persistent ringing in her right ear. Rain battered her face, mingling with the soaked grass beneath her. The cold droplets seeped into her skin.

The acrid scent of smoke invaded her lungs. Every inhale was a jagged knife, searing through her chest. Then, a more familiar odor pierced through the haze—something unmistakable and metallic, something she couldn’t escape all those years as a scout.

Blood.

Too much blood. 

Dread curled around her heart, its terrible grip tightening with each passing moment. Was this sickening stench coming from her? Was she the source of all the blood that tainted the air? Am I... dying? No. 

She had felt Death’s shadow before, beneath the Reiss family’s church. These current wounds she had, whatever they were, couldn’t produce such an overpowering smell.

If it wasn’t from her… where did it come from?

Her eyes searched the wreckage anew. A sense of urgency driving her as the throbbing in her head grew louder, desperate to uncover the source of the ghastly smell. Gradually, the shapes around her grew clearer, revealing a figure sprawled face down beside the riverbank, disturbingly still. Sloane blinked hard, willing her vision to sharpen. A green cloak, emblazoned with the Wings of Freedom insignia, crystallized into agonizing clarity. 

No.

A raw, anguished sound tore from her throat, shattering the very air—a wail she hadn't known she was capable of. Tears began to cascade down her cheeks, lost in the unrelenting rain as if the heavens themselves wept with her. Instinctively, she dragged herself toward him, each movement a searing torment as she sought to bridge the vast distance between them. The ache in her body faded into insignificance, now overwhelmed by an unspeakable fear. 

Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. 

The thought surged within her like a fervent incantation, imploring to whichever unseen force might grant her this one mercy.

Please.

Please don’t take him from me too.

Sloane had weathered the storm of loss time and time again, each one carving a deep, invisible scar. With each passage of sorrow, she was able to piece herself back together, little by little, until the raw pain softened into a distant memory. But… if he were to die, if he were to slip away from this cruel world they vowed to save together, leaving her to endure this unbearable fate alone, it would shatter her beyond repair.

She clawed her way through the mud. Her fingers dug into the sodden ground, feeling the soil beneath her nails. Once, this same earth had been a source of innocent delight, evoking the carefree days of her youth, where every inch of her had been joyfully smeared in the spirit of adventure.

Now, the sensation only made her skin crawl. 

Her cries grew frantic as she summoned all the strength she could possibly muster to bridge the distance between them. Each excruciating inch she covered felt like a thousand lifetimes, her limbs trembling with the effort.

Some part of her clung to the fragile hope that this was but a horrific nightmare. A cruel illusion from which she would awaken in the sanctuary of his arms, discovering him whole and well, just as he had always been.

Please let this be a dream. Please let me wake up.

But that hope dwindled away when she at last reached his side. With trembling hands, she carefully turned him over. The sight that met her eyes unraveled her completely.

Levi’s face, his beautiful face—a canvas she adored with every fiber of her being—was now barely recognizable. She could not see the arch of his brow, the creases of his forehead, or the slant of his mouth beneath the sea of red. The blood, a relentless tide, coated his pale skin, defying even the rain’s mournful efforts to cleanse him free of the stain.

She peered into his eyes, yearning to glimpse even a whisper of life within the familiar steel blue. One eye was ravaged and awash in crimson, yet both stared back with a haunting emptiness. 

The knife inside her heart twisted further.