Routine kicking in was the only reason Pieck didn’t keel over.

She feel like vomiting. She feel like suffocating.

She felt panic rise inside her as she looked down on a body that wasn’t hers, swollen like a bloated corpse that was brimming with rot and gore.

In the back of her mind, she had known it but she had still refused to believe it, even after feeling those kicks deep inside her guts. It just felt grotesque.

She wanted it gone.

That was the only thing she could hear inside her head. I want it gone, I want it gone, I want it gone. Repeatedly, again and again.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she watched herself grabbing her shoes and the change of clothes they always provided at the Cart’s neck. She felt the gravel sting the soles of her feet when she slid down her Titan’s disintegrating carcass. Maybe she even cut herself. She ignored it. She felt her body running, struggle with her balance, as she usually did, felt herself fall, barely noticed the pain in her knees.

She heard gunshots passing her, came to the realization in the back of her mind that the enemy was still attacking the Cart, not familiar with a Titan Shifter’s abilities and that it’s holder was already gone.

Enough of a head start for her to vanish. Enough of a head start for her to get rid of it.

Her options flooded through her head as she put on her boots and shirt behind a tree big enough to use as temporary shelter. Pieck allowed herself to take one deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. Focus on the strategy, not her body. She was alone. She’d be attacked soon. She had to win this fight first before she could start the one against her own body. Once she was inside the Cart again, it would be easier to igno—

The ground shook as the Titan leaped right over her, towards the gunshots. A glimpse of Galliard’s yellow mane confirmed that she was no longer by herself. He could easily deal with the attackers alone but they’d be quicker if she’d joined.

How long has it been?

Months… That was true without a doubt, but how many?

Months of travelling from one base to the next in an endless repetition… Resupply, travel, scouting, attack, retreat, report… Resupply, travel, scouting, attack, retreat, report…

She should have seen it sooner that their moves became predictable.

Their tasks had been clear. She did the transport, Galliard did the attack. She carried the cargo and had to steer clear from the enemy’s sight. Stay invisible.

Only, when you did the same attack too often, the enemy starts to question your moves.

So that’s how they found her.

She barely even recognized any pain from the Cart’s body as the bullets hit. Years on the battlefield and inside Marley’s training center made you numb for this sort of thing.

Pieck had learned to use her body as a shield, protecting her two fellow soldiers, as she waited for Porco’s return.

He’d notice the lack of defenses on his target, he’d understand where they would be and he’d come back… And he’d have an easy play, with everyone’s attention on the Cart Titan.

She’d just hold out long enough, stay here, hold on…

That’s when the anti-titan artillery hit her.

It was a badly aimed shot, at the Cart’s trunk, not her nape, but it took her right leg clean off.

Pieck was in danger.

Her body acted immediately on instinct, with the strategy they had been taught since years in this case of emergency.

Abandon the Titan. Distract the enemy. Leave. Attack again from behind, if possible.

She could use the steam as a cover for a short while. It should be enough to confuse the enemy and hide.

Strategies shot through her head, her training took over, as she emerged from her Titan’s nape for the first time in months.