Unduh Aplikasi
44% Attack on Titan: Mustang / Chapter 11: Fear

Bab 11: Fear

Inside the steaming confines of the Colossal Titan's nape, Bertholdt's mind raced with panic and desperation. Through the Titan's eyes, he watched in horror as Aaron Mustang maneuvered through the air with inhuman grace and precision. The Survey Corps captain was a blur of motion, his ODM gear hissing as he swung in dizzying arcs around the Colossal Titan's massive form.

Bertholdt tried to track Mustang's movements, but the man was simply too fast. One moment he was in front, the next behind, always just out of reach. It was like trying to catch smoke with bare hands.

Suddenly, a searing pain lanced through the Titan's eyes. Bertholdt let out a scream of agony as his vision went dark, blood and steam erupting from the wounds. In that moment of blindness and pain, a cold realization settled in Bertholdt's gut.

'Mustang is a true monster,' he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. 'Even Zeke couldn't handle him. How am I supposed to stand a chance, especially in this incomplete form?'

As he struggled to regenerate his Titan's eyes, Bertholdt felt a new sensation - the distinct feeling of ODM hooks embedding themselves in the nape of his Titan. Terror gripped him as he realized Mustang was preparing for the killing blow.

'No, not like this!' Bertholdt's mind screamed. In a desperate move, he began expelling massive amounts of steam from his Titan's back, hoping to dislodge or at least disorient Mustang.

But Mustang was always one step ahead. Bertholdt felt a sudden, sharp pain in his Titan's jaw muscles. His eyes widened in disbelief as he realized what was happening.

'Is he insane?' Bertholdt thought, a mixture of fear and awe coursing through him. 'He's actually trying to enter through the mouth? Who in their right mind would attempt something so reckless?'

In a moment of clarity born from sheer desperation, Bertholdt made a decision. With every ounce of his concentration, he began expelling steam from every part of his Titan's body. The intensity and volume of the steam increased exponentially, turning the surrounding air into a superheated inferno.

The gambit worked. Bertholdt heard a muffled curse and felt the hooks disengage from his nape. Through the haze of steam, he caught a glimpse of Mustang being thrown back, the sleeves of his uniform singed from the intense heat.

Down on the wall, Aaron landed gracefully beside Hange, his face set in a grimace of frustration. "Sorry," he said, his voice tight with annoyance. "With that much steam, I can't get close enough to do any real damage. But I've at least obstructed his vision for now. All we can do is wait and see what happens next."

Hange nodded, her eyes never leaving the steaming form of the Colossal Titan. "On the bright side," she said, a note of excitement in her voice, "it looks like Eren is holding his own down there."

Aaron's gaze shifted to the brutal fight taking place below. Eren's Titan form had Reiner's Armored Titan in a powerful hold, the techniques Aaron had taught him proving effective even against Reiner's hardened armor.

"Looks like the brat's actually putting those boxing lessons to good use," Aaron mused, a hint of pride in his voice. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. This fight is far from over."

Back inside the Colossal Titan, Bertholdt was a mess of frayed nerves and racing thoughts. Every second that passed was filled with dread, his mind conjuring increasingly terrifying scenarios of what Mustang might do next.

'What if he tries to cut me out directly?' Bertholdt thought, panic rising in his throat. 'Or what if he somehow finds a way to neutralize my steam? Maybe he'll try to outlast me, waiting until I'm too exhausted to maintain this form...'

The possibilities swirled in Bertholdt's mind, each more horrifying than the last. He knew Mustang's reputation, had seen firsthand the man's skill and ruthlessness in battle. The thought of facing him one-on-one was enough to make Bertholdt's blood run cold.

Just as the tension was becoming unbearable, a sound cut through Bertholdt's spiraling thoughts. A roar, deep and resonant, echoed across the battlefield. It was Reiner's voice, distorted by his Titan form but unmistakable to Bertholdt's ears.

The sound was like a jolt of electricity through Bertholdt's system. He knew what that roar meant - it was the signal they had agreed upon, the call for their final, desperate gambit.

'It's now or never,' Bertholdt thought, steeling himself for what was to come.

With a deep breath, he cut off the steam emission. The sudden absence of the superheated vapor was like a vacuum, the cooler air rushing in to fill the void.

On the wall, Aaron immediately tensed, his hands moving to his blade handles. "He's stopped releasing steam," he called out to Hange, his voice sharp with anticipation. "Something's coming."

Inside the Titan, Bertholdt focused all his energy on regenerating a single eye. He knew he needed vision for what came next, and there was no time to fully heal both eyes.

As soon as his sight returned, Bertholdt made his move. With a mighty heave, he threw his Colossal Titan form over the edge of the wall, plummeting towards the ground below.

Aaron, reacting with lightning-fast reflexes, fired his ODM hooks into the falling Titan's flesh. As he swung after the plummeting giant, wind whipping past his face, a grim smile played at his lips. "You're not getting away that easily," he muttered.

Inside the Titan, Bertholdt's mind raced with panic. He could feel Mustang's hooks embedded in his Titan's flesh, could sense the man's relentless pursuit.

'Is he insane?' Bertholdt thought, a hysterical edge to his inner voice. 'MUSTANG, LET GO ALREADY!'

But Aaron Mustang was not a man who gave up easily. As they fell, he maneuvered himself closer and closer to the nape, his blades at the ready.

Bertholdt, seeing the ground rapidly approaching and realizing he wouldn't be able to shake Mustang in time, made a split-second decision. With all the strength he could muster, he aimed his fall directly at Eren's Titan form.

Aaron, realizing what was about to happen, disengaged his hooks at the last possible moment. He swung away, using his momentum to latch onto the wall, watching with gritted teeth as the Colossal Titan crashed into Eren.

The impact was devastating. Eren's Titan form, caught off guard and already weakened from its fight with Reiner, was completely immobilized by the weight of the Colossal Titan.

In the chaos that followed, Reiner made his move. His Armored Titan form lunged forward, its jaws clamping down on Eren's nape. With a sickening tearing sound, Reiner ripped Eren from his Titan, quickly securing him in his mouth.

Bertholdt, emerging from his rapidly disintegrating Titan form, moved with a speed born of desperation. He snatched up the unconscious form of Ymir, then used his ODM gear to latch onto Reiner.

The Armored Titan, with its precious cargo secured, began to run. Its heavy footfalls shook the earth as it lumbered away from the wall, each step taking them further from their pursuers.

Bertholdt, clinging to Reiner's armor plates, chanced a look back. His heart nearly stopped when he saw Mustang swinging through the trees behind them, closing the distance with terrifying speed.

'This has to be a joke,' Bertholdt thought, his mind numb with disbelief. 'Doesn't he ever give up?'

But luck, it seemed, was finally on their side. Aaron, feeling the telltale sputter of his nearly empty gas tanks, was forced to make a difficult decision. With a frustrated growl, he disengaged his hooks and swung back towards the wall.

As Reiner's Armored Titan form disappeared into the distance, Aaron landed beside Hange once more. His face was a mask of barely contained fury, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

"They got away," he spat, his voice tight with anger and frustration. "Eren and Ymir... we lost them both."

Hange placed a hand on Aaron's shoulder, her own expression grim. "We'll get them back," she said, her voice filled with a determination that brooked no argument. "This isn't over yet."

Aaron Mustang, his uniform stained and tattered, made his way across the wall top to where Historia sat, her blue eyes fixed on the distant horizon.

As he lowered himself to sit beside her, Aaron felt the full weight of their recent failure settle on his shoulders. The silence between them was thick with unspoken emotions - grief, guilt, and a desperate hope that refused to be extinguished.

"I'm sorry," Aaron said finally, his voice rough with exhaustion and regret. "I couldn't save Ymir."

Historia turned to look at him, her face a mask of forced composure. "You did your best," she replied, but the sadness in her voice betrayed her true feelings.

Aaron felt his heart clench at the pain in her eyes. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand in his. "I promise," he said, his voice low and intense, "I'll bring her back. No matter what it takes."

Before Historia could respond, Hange's voice cut through the moment. "We'll have to wait for Erwin to arrive with the elevators before we can pursue them," she said, her usual excitement tempered by the gravity of the situation.

Aaron nodded, his tactical mind already racing. "We can't let them cross Wall Maria," he said, his brow furrowed in concentration. "That Beast Titan is likely waiting for them on the other side."

Hange nodded in agreement, then fixed Aaron with a stern look. "For now, you need to rest, Mustang. Without Eren, and with Levi injured, you're our best weapon. We need you at full strength."

Aaron opened his mouth to protest, but a massive yawn escaped instead. "Now that you mention it," he mumbled, suddenly aware of the bone-deep weariness that had settled into his body, "I am feeling a bit tired."

Historia shifted closer to him, her shoulder pressing against his. "Rest for a while," she said softly. "I'll wake you if anything happens."

Too exhausted to argue further, Aaron allowed himself to lean against Historia. As his eyes drifted closed, he murmured, "I'm in your care, then."

The last thing he felt before sleep claimed him was the gentle touch of Historia's fingers running through his hair.

In his dreams, Aaron found himself back at the Survey Corps headquarters, the familiar scent of hay and horses filling his nostrils. He was in the stables, a broom in hand, halfheartedly sweeping at the straw-strewn floor. Beside him, Dino worked with far more enthusiasm, his movements quick and efficient.

"Jeez, Mustang," Dino grumbled, eyeing Aaron's lackluster sweeping. "Do you even know how to clean properly?"

Before Aaron could retort, a familiar voice cut through the air. "Oi, what's all this racket about?"

They turned to see Captain Levi striding towards them, his sharp eyes taking in the state of the stables. Dino, seizing the opportunity, called out, "Captain! How did you ever recruit this idiot? He can barely wipe his own ass, let alone clean a stable properly."

Levi's eyes narrowed as he looked at Aaron. "Sometimes I wonder the same thing," he muttered.

Aaron felt a flash of irritation. "Big talk from a pint-sized blowhard," he shot back.

The scene shifted, and Aaron found himself sitting under a large oak tree, the cool grass beneath him a welcome respite from the day's heat. He heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see Levi standing over him, an expression of mild annoyance on his face.

"Why aren't you cleaning?" Levi demanded.

Aaron shrugged, leaning back against the tree trunk. "Too much effort," he said casually.

To his surprise, instead of berating him, Levi let out a small sigh and sat down beside him. They sat in companionable silence for a moment before Aaron spoke again.

"Hey, Levi," he said, curiosity coloring his voice. "When you came to the Underground that time... how did you know about me?"

Levi was quiet for a long moment, his eyes fixed on some distant point. When he finally spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically soft. "I was investigating something... or rather, someone. Let's just say I was looking for a possible family member. During my search, I came across Marko - Marko Mustang. I attended one of his underground fighting events and saw you fight. I thought you might have potential."

Aaron felt a warmth bloom in his chest at Levi's words. "Well... thanks for taking a chance on me, I guess," he mumbled, unused to expressing gratitude.

Levi's lips quirked in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Erwin did the same for me," he said. "In a way, it's continuing the cycle."

Aaron couldn't resist needling him a bit. "Well, well. Is the big bad Levi getting sentimental on me?"

"Tch. Shut it, brat," Levi grumbled, but there was no real heat in his words.

A thought occurred to Aaron then. "By the way, what were you looking for with Mike? You seemed pretty interested in him when you first arrived."

Levi was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke, his voice was carefully neutral. "I wanted to see if he was really Mike Mustang... or someone else."

Aaron frowned, confusion evident on his face. "Someone else? Like who?"

Levi's eyes met Aaron's, a wealth of unspoken history in their depths. "I wanted to see if he was Mike Ackerman."

Before Aaron could process this revelation, the dream began to fade, reality seeping back in around the edges. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake.

"Aaron," Historia's soft voice called. "Wake up. We're about to leave."

Aaron's eyes snapped open, his mind still reeling from the dream. As his vision cleared, he found himself looking up at Commander Erwin, surrounded by a group of soldiers preparing for departure. The sun was low on the horizon, the golden light of late afternoon bathing everything in a warm glow.

"How long was I out?" Aaron asked, his voice still rough with sleep.

Erwin's lips quirked in a small smile. "Quite a while," he replied. "But I didn't want to wake you. I'd rather have you well-rested for what's to come."

Aaron stretched, feeling the satisfying pop of his joints as he worked out the kinks from sleeping in such an awkward position. "I think I know where they're headed," he said, his tactical mind already racing. "Do you have a map?"

Erwin nodded, but before he could respond, Hange cut in. "I've already given them my hypothesis," she said, her eyes gleaming with that manic energy that always accompanied a new theory. "They're likely headed for a nearby forest."

Aaron nodded in agreement. "I was thinking the same thing. We need to reach them before nightfall if possible."

As Aaron stood, brushing off his uniform, he felt a presence at his side. Turning, he found Gus looking up at him, his young face etched with concern.

"Captain," Gus said hesitantly, "is it true about Dino?"

The question hit Aaron like a physical blow, the grief he'd been holding at bay threatening to overwhelm him. He opened his mouth to respond, but found the words stuck in his throat.

In that moment of hesitation, the full weight of their situation crashed down on Aaron. They had lost Eren and Ymir, Dino was gone, and they were about to embark on a dangerous rescue mission with no guarantee of success. The responsibility of leadership had never felt heavier.

But as he looked around at the faces of his comrades - at Historia's unwavering support, Erwin's calm confidence, Hange's fierce determination, and Gus's youthful hope - Aaron felt a renewed sense of purpose. They were counting on him, and he'd be damned if he let them down.

Taking a deep breath, Aaron squared his shoulders and met Gus's gaze. "Yes," he said, his voice steady despite the pain in his heart. "Dino... Dino didn't make it. But we're going to make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain. We're going to bring Eren and Ymir back, and we're going to make those traitors pay."

Gus nodded, a mixture of sorrow and determination in his eyes. "Understood, Captain. We're with you all the way."

As the group began their final preparations, Aaron found himself standing at the edge of the wall, looking out over the land that had claimed so many of their comrades. The setting sun painted the sky in shades of red and gold, as if the heavens themselves were ablaze with the fires of their determination.

"We're coming for you, Reiner, Bertholdt," Aaron muttered under his breath, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "And this time, there's no escape."

The massive elevators creaked and groaned under the weight of soldiers, horses, and equipment as they descended the imposing height of Wall Rose. Aaron Mustang stood at the edge of the platform, his emerald eyes scanning the horizon where Reiner and Bertholdt had disappeared with Eren and Ymir. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of crimson and gold, a stark contrast to the somber mood that hung over the assembled forces.

As the elevators neared the ground, Aaron's gaze shifted to the sea of unfamiliar faces surrounding him. The unmistakable green unicorn emblems on their jackets marked them as members of the Military Police. A frown creased his brow as he pondered their unexpected presence.

"Erwin must have pulled some serious strings to get reinforcements this quickly," Aaron mused, his voice barely above a whisper. "Even if they are just the useless MPs."

The elevator touched down with a resounding thud, and the soldiers began to disembark. Aaron's attention was drawn to a group of Military Police members who were speaking loudly among themselves, their voices carrying an air of misplaced bravado.

"Did you see how fast I took down that 3-meter class earlier?" boasted a stocky man with a thin mustache. "It didn't stand a chance against my superior skills!"

His companion, a lanky soldier with a mop of unruly red hair, snorted in agreement. "Yeah, and did you hear about how I single-handedly saved an entire squad from a 7-meter? They don't call me 'The Titan Slayer' for nothing!"

Aaron rolled his eyes at their exaggerated claims, knowing full well that most Military Police members had never even seen a Titan up close, let alone engaged one in combat. He was about to turn away when a third voice joined the conversation, this one hushed and urgent.

"Shut up, you idiots!" hissed a nervous-looking soldier with close-cropped blond hair. "Don't you know who that is?"

The other two followed their comrade's gaze, their eyes widening as they landed on Aaron. The change in their demeanor was instantaneous and almost comical. The color drained from their faces, and they seemed to shrink in on themselves, trying to become as inconspicuous as possible.

"Is that... Aaron Mustang?" whispered the red-haired soldier, his earlier bravado evaporating like morning dew under the harsh sun.

The blond soldier nodded, swallowing hard. "The very same. I've heard stories about him, you know. They say he has a... hobby."

"A hobby?" the mustached man asked, his voice quavering slightly.

"Yeah," the blond continued, his voice dropping even lower. "I heard he likes to use Military Police members as punching bags to keep his skills sharp. Apparently, he once took out an entire squad just because they looked at him funny."

The other two gasped, their eyes darting nervously between Aaron and the ground. "You're joking, right?" the red-haired soldier pleaded.

"No joke," the blond insisted. "My cousin's friend was stationed in Trost, and he saw it happen. Said Mustang moved so fast you could barely see him. One minute the MPs were standing there, the next they were all on the ground, moaning in pain."

Aaron, who had been listening to their conversation with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, decided to have a little fun. He turned towards the group, fixing them with his intense emerald gaze. The three soldiers froze, looking for all the world like rabbits caught in a predator's sights.

With deliberate slowness, Aaron began to walk towards them, his boots crunching on the gravel beneath. The MPs huddled closer together, as if seeking safety in numbers. When Aaron was just a few paces away, he stopped, crossing his arms over his chest and quirking an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

The reaction was immediate. The mustached man let out a strangled squeak, while the red-haired soldier began to stammer incoherently. The blond, seemingly the bravest (or perhaps the most foolish) of the three, managed to find his voice.

"N-no, sir! No problem at all, Captain Mustang, sir!" he blurted out, snapping into a salute so rigid it looked painful. His companions quickly followed suit, their arms shaking slightly as they held the salute.

Aaron allowed the tension to build for a moment longer before his stern expression cracked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "At ease, soldiers," he said, amusement coloring his tone. "And for the record, I don't make a habit of beating up Military Police members. I prefer my punching bags to put up more of a fight."

The three MPs visibly relaxed, though their eyes remained wide with a mixture of fear and awe. Aaron turned to walk away but paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing," he added, his smirk widening. "Next time you want to embellish your Titan-killing exploits, you might want to make sure there isn't a Survey Corps member within earshot. We tend to know the difference between fact and fiction when it comes to Titans."

With that, Aaron strode away, leaving the three MPs to stare after him in stunned silence. As he made his way through the crowd, he could hear whispers and see pointed fingers following in his wake. It seemed his reputation preceded him, for better or worse.

His musings were interrupted by the approach of a familiar figure. Commander Erwin Smith cut an imposing silhouette as he walked towards Aaron, his blue eyes sharp and focused despite the long day of battle.

"Mustang," Erwin greeted him with a nod. "A word, if you please."

Aaron fell into step beside the commander, matching his brisk pace. "What's on your mind, Erwin?" he asked, noting the subtle lines of tension around the older man's eyes.

Erwin's gaze remained fixed ahead as he spoke, his voice low to avoid being overheard. "I need to know our chances," he said without preamble. "Our primary objective is to rescue Eren, but if the opportunity presents itself..." He trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

Aaron understood immediately. "You want to know if I can take down the Armored and Colossal Titans," he finished, his tone grim.

Erwin nodded, finally turning to meet Aaron's eyes. "Can you do it?"

Aaron was silent for a long moment, weighing his words carefully. "You're asking for the impossible, Erwin," he said at last, his voice tinged with frustration. "Bertholdt, maybe. If I can get him in the right terrain, isolate him from Reiner, I might have a shot at taking him down."

"And Reiner?" Erwin pressed.

Aaron's jaw clenched, remembering the reports from their last encounter. "That's where things get tricky. According to Mikasa, even our sharpest blades couldn't penetrate his armor. More of the same isn't likely to make a difference."

Erwin's expression remained impassive, but Aaron caught the slight slump of his shoulders. "I see," the commander said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "That is... unfortunate."

Aaron felt a spark of defiance ignite in his chest. "I didn't say I couldn't do it," he clarified, a hint of his usual cockiness seeping into his tone. "Just that it won't be easy. I'll need to get creative, maybe find a weak spot in that armor of his."

Erwin's eyes widened slightly, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. He clasped Aaron's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "I knew I could count on you, Mustang," he said, his voice filled with renewed determination. "I'll leave it in your capable hands, then."

As Erwin turned to walk away, Aaron called after him. "Erwin!" The commander paused, looking back. "Don't forget, our primary objective is still to rescue Eren and Ymir. I won't jeopardize that for a shot at taking down Reiner or Bertholdt."

Erwin nodded, his expression solemn. "Understood. Bring them home, Mustang. Whatever it takes."

With those final words, Erwin strode off to oversee the final preparations for their pursuit. Aaron watched him go, feeling the weight of responsibility settle heavily on his shoulders. He took a deep breath, centering himself for the challenge ahead.

Making his way through the bustling crowd, Aaron spotted his horse, Lucky, being tended to by a young stablehand. The dapple gray stallion nickered softly as Aaron approached, recognizing his rider. Aaron ran a hand along Lucky's muscular neck, drawing comfort from the familiar contact.

"Ready for another adventure, old friend?" he murmured, receiving a soft snort in response. "Yeah, me neither. But duty calls."

As Aaron began to check Lucky's tack, ensuring everything was secure for the hard ride ahead, he heard familiar voices approaching. Looking up, he saw the members of his squad making their way towards him: Jean, Gus, Nanaba, Neil, and Historia.

Jean wore his usual scowl, though Aaron noted the tightness around his eyes that betrayed his anxiety. Gus and Neil walked side by side, their expressions a mix of determination and nervousness. Nanaba's face was set in grim lines, her years of experience evident in the calm way she carried herself. And Historia... Aaron felt a pang in his chest as he met her blue eyes, seeing the mix of fear and resolve swirling in their depths.

"Alright, listen up," Aaron called as they gathered around him. "We've got a long, hard ride ahead of us. Our primary objective is to rescue Eren and Ymir. Everything else is secondary. Understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, sir!" answered him, though Jean's response was noticeably less enthusiastic than the others. Aaron raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Something on your mind, Kirstein?" he asked, his tone deceptively light.

Jean crossed his arms, his scowl deepening. "I can't believe I have to take orders from you again," he grumbled. "Just when I thought I was free of your smart-ass comments."

Aaron's smirk widened into a full grin. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jean," he said, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "I must have confused you with one of the horses. It's an easy mistake to make, you know."

The rest of the squad snickered, and even Nanaba cracked a smile. Jean's face flushed red with indignation. "Oh, that's rich coming from you, 'Mustang,'" he shot back. "Aren't you the one they call 'The Wild Stallion'?"

"Actually, it's 'The Untamed Stallion,'" Aaron corrected, his grin never faltering. "And that's because of my last name, idiot. Not because I have a face like a horse."

Before Jean could retort, Erwin's voice rang out across the assembled forces. "Soldiers! Mount up and prepare to move out! We ride in two minutes!"

The banter forgotten, Aaron's expression turned serious as he swung himself into Lucky's saddle. His squad followed suit, mounting their own horses and falling into formation around him. Aaron's eyes swept over each of them, noting their readiness and the trust they placed in him as their leader.

"Stay close and stay alert," he instructed, his voice carrying the weight of command. "We don't know what we're riding into, but I need each of you at your best. Watch each other's backs, and if anyone spots anything out of the ordinary, call it out immediately. Clear?"

"Yes, sir!" came the unified response, stronger this time.

Aaron nodded, satisfied. He turned Lucky towards the front of the formation, where Erwin sat astride his own mount, ready to give the order to move out. As they waited for the command, Aaron felt a presence at his side. Glancing over, he saw Historia had maneuvered her horse next to his.

"Aaron," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the assembling troops. "Do you really think we can save them? Eren and Ymir, I mean."

Aaron met her gaze, seeing the vulnerability behind her brave facade. He wanted nothing more than to reassure her, to promise that everything would be alright. But he knew better than to make promises he couldn't keep.

"I don't know, Historia," he answered honestly, his voice gentle. "But I do know this: we're going to do everything in our power to bring them back. I won't give up on them, and neither will you. We'll face whatever comes together, alright?"

Historia nodded, a small smile breaking through her worried expression. "Together," she agreed, her voice stronger now.

At that moment, Erwin's voice boomed across the gathered forces. "Survey Corps, move out!"

.....

The forest loomed before them, a dense mass of ancient trees stretching towards the darkening sky. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the land, creating an eerie atmosphere that set everyone on edge. Within the depths of the woods, Bertholdt Hoover paced nervously, his lanky frame taut with tension as he cast furtive glances at their captive, Ymir.

"I don't like this, Reiner," Bertholdt muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can we really trust her? What if she's just biding her time, waiting for the right moment to turn on us?"

Reiner Braun, his broad shoulders set in a determined line, placed a reassuring hand on his friend's arm. "Relax, Bertl," he said, his tone steady and confident. "Ymir understands the situation. She knows that her best chance of survival is with us."

Bertholdt didn't look convinced, his dark eyes darting between Reiner and Ymir, who sat propped against a tree, her hands bound behind her back. "But what if-"

His words were cut short by a sudden burst of light in the sky. Both men's heads snapped up, their eyes widening as they saw the telltale green smoke of a flare arcing above the treetops.

"Shit," Reiner cursed, his earlier calm evaporating. "The Survey Corps. They're closer than we thought."

Bertholdt's breathing quickened, panic evident in his voice. "We need to move, now! If they catch us here-"

"Wait!" Ymir's voice cut through their panic like a knife. Both men turned to look at her, surprise evident on their faces. Ymir's eyes gleamed with a cunning light as she spoke. "This could be our chance."

Reiner's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

A slow, predatory smile spread across Ymir's face. "Historia," she said simply. "This is our opportunity to take her with us."

The two men exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. After a moment, Reiner nodded. "She's right, Bertl. If we can get Historia, it'll make our mission that much easier."

Bertholdt still looked uncertain, but he nodded his agreement. "Fine. But how do we do this?"

Ymir struggled to her feet, her bound hands making the movement awkward. "Leave that to me," she said, her voice filled with a fierce determination. "Just be ready to move when I give the signal."

With a shared nod of understanding, Reiner quickly cut Ymir's bonds. In a flash of light and steam, Ymir transformed into her Titan form, her small but agile body perfect for maneuvering through the dense forest.

"We'll wait for you at the edge of the forest," Reiner called out as Ymir climbed nimbly up a massive tree. "Don't take too long!"

As Ymir settled into position, hanging from a thick branch with her keen eyes scanning the forest floor below, her mind began to race. The plan had seemed so simple moments ago, but now doubts began to creep in.

'Will Historia really want to come with me?' she thought, her heart clenching painfully in her chest. 'She has a life here, friends... Mustang.'

The thought of the Survey Corps captain sent a shiver down Ymir's spine. She had always treated Aaron Mustang as an equal, often going out of her way to antagonize him with sarcastic remarks and insults. But deep down, she knew better than to truly anger him. There was a reason he was called the Untamed Stallion, after all.

'Historia has feelings for him,' Ymir admitted to herself, the realization bringing a bitter taste to her mouth. 'But what kind of future can she have inside these walls? A life of fear, always waiting for the next Titan attack?'

Ymir shook her head, pushing away her doubts. 'No, I'm doing the right thing. Even if she doesn't understand now, I'm giving her a chance at a real future. She'll thank me for this someday.'

With renewed determination, Ymir focused on the forest floor below, listening intently for any sign of approaching horses. It wasn't long before she heard the thundering of hooves and the sound of voices carrying through the still evening air.

Mustang's squad burst into view, their horses' flanks lathered with sweat from the hard ride. Ymir watched as Aaron raised his hand, signaling the group to halt.

"Gus," Mustang called out, his voice carrying the unmistakable tone of command. "Take the horses and fall back to a safe distance. The rest of you, with me. Stay alert and watch the trees. Ymir could be anywhere."

Ymir felt her heart rate increase as she watched the squad dismount and draw their blades. She saw Historia among them, her golden hair gleaming in the fading sunlight that filtered through the canopy. For a moment, Ymir almost lost her nerve.

'I'm sorry, Historia,' she thought, steeling herself for what she was about to do. 'But this is for your own good.'

Down below, Aaron Mustang's emerald eyes scanned the surrounding trees, his posture tense and ready for action. "Ymir!" he called out, his voice echoing through the forest. "We know you're here! Where are Reiner and Bertholdt? Where's Eren?"

To Ymir's surprise, instead of searching the ground, the squad began to ascend the trees using their ODM gear. They had figured out her position faster than she had anticipated. Within moments, she found herself surrounded by familiar faces, all wearing expressions of confusion and wariness.

Connie was the first to approach her, his face a mixture of anger and concern. "Ymir! What the hell are you doing? Did you escape from Reiner and Bertholdt?"

When Ymir remained silent, Connie's frustration got the better of him. He lashed out with a kick, his boot connecting solidly with her Titan form's head. "Come on, say something!" he shouted.

Ymir barely felt the impact, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how to proceed. She hadn't anticipated them finding her so quickly, and now her plan was in jeopardy.

Aaron stepped forward, his emerald eyes narrowed as he studied her. "Oi, ugly," he called out, his voice laced with irritation. "I know you can talk in that form. Spit it out already. Where are Reiner and Bertholdt?"

Ymir remained stubbornly silent, her eyes darting between the faces surrounding her. She saw confusion, anger, and worry in their expressions. But it was Historia's face that nearly broke her resolve. The blonde girl looked at her with such trust, such hope, that Ymir almost abandoned her plan then and there.

Just as the tension was reaching a breaking point, Nanaba's voice cut through the air. "Captain! Titans approaching from the rear!"

Aaron's head snapped around, his body tensing as he assessed the new threat. "How many?" he barked.

"At least five, maybe more," Nanaba reported, her voice tight with urgency.

"Shit," Aaron cursed, his mind already formulating a plan. "Alright, listen up! We need to-"

But Ymir didn't wait to hear the rest. The moment Aaron's attention was diverted, she made her move. With a speed that belied her Titan form's size, she lunged forward, her jaws opening wide.

Historia barely had time to let out a startled yelp before Ymir had scooped her up, careful to hold her gently between her teeth. In the same fluid motion, Ymir launched herself from the tree, using her agile form to navigate through the dense forest with surprising grace.

The shouts of alarm and anger faded behind her as Ymir put distance between herself and the squad. But she knew better than to think she had escaped cleanly. Aaron Mustang was not a man who gave up easily, and she had just taken something precious from him.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Ymir heard the telltale hiss of ODM gear behind her. Chancing a glance back, she felt her blood run cold. Aaron was in pursuit, and the look on his face was nothing short of terrifying.

His emerald eyes blazed with a fury Ymir had never seen before, his features set in a mask of determination that promised retribution. He moved through the trees with an almost inhuman grace, each swing of his ODM gear bringing him closer to his quarry.

Ymir pushed herself harder, her Titan form straining as she sought to put more distance between them. But no matter how fast she moved, no matter how deftly she navigated the treacherous terrain, Aaron remained in pursuit, an unstoppable force of nature.

'He's not human,' Ymir thought, a wave of genuine terror washing over her. 'He's a monster wearing human skin.'

She could almost feel the heat of Aaron's rage on her back as she burst from the treeline, her eyes desperately scanning for Reiner and Bertholdt. To her immense relief, she saw Reiner's Armored Titan form waiting at the agreed-upon spot.

Without breaking stride, Ymir leapt onto Reiner's massive shoulder, carefully depositing Historia next to Bertholdt, who held an unconscious Eren. "Go!" she shouted, her Titan voice coming out as a guttural roar. "He's right behind us!"

Reiner needed no further encouragement. With earth-shaking steps, he began to run, each stride carrying them further from the forest and the pursuing Survey Corps.

But their relief was short-lived. Aaron burst from the treeline like an avenging angel, his ODM gear propelling him forward at a speed that seemed to defy physics. His face was a mask of cold fury, his emerald eyes locked on their retreating forms with an intensity that made Ymir's Titan form shudder.

"Holy shit," Bertholdt breathed, his face pale with fear. "How is he moving so fast without a horse?"

Ymir watched in horrified fascination as Aaron closed the distance between them. She had always known he was skilled, had even admired his strength in a grudging sort of way. But this... this was beyond anything she had ever seen.

Just when it seemed Aaron would reach them, just as Ymir could see the murderous intent blazing in his emerald eyes, It got even worse. As if summoned by Aaron's sheer force of will, his horse, Lucky, appeared from nowhere, galloping at full speed.

With a move that defied belief, Aaron twisted in mid-air, his fingers barely grazing Lucky's mane. But it was enough. In one fluid motion, he swung himself onto the horse's back, never breaking stride.

"He's insane!" Ymir cried out, unable to tear her eyes away from the spectacle. "How did he even do that?"

Beside her, Bertholdt was shaking, his face a mask of terror. "We can't outrun him," he said, his voice trembling. "He's... he's not human!"

Ymir couldn't help but agree. She had always treated Aaron as an equal, had delighted in needling him and calling him an idiot. But deep down, she had always known that angering him was a dangerous game. And now, she had crossed a line from which there was no return.

As Aaron closed in on them, his eyes locked on Historia's unconscious form, Ymir made a silent vow. 'I'm sorry, Mustang,' she thought, knowing he couldn't hear her. 'But I have to do this. For Historia's sake... and for mine.'

The chase continued across the open plains, the setting sun painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and purple. The Armored Titan's thunderous footsteps shook the earth, creating a rhythm that matched the pounding of Ymir's heart.

Aaron, astride Lucky, was a relentless pursuer. No matter how fast Reiner ran, no matter what obstacles they encountered, the Untamed Stallion remained hot on their heels. His emerald eyes never wavered from their target, burning with a determination that sent chills down Ymir's spine.

'Is this what true fear feels like?' Ymir wondered, unable to look away from their pursuer. She had faced Titans, had lived through countless dangers, but nothing had prepared her for the sheer terror of being hunted by Aaron Mustang.

Author's Note: I recently remembered that there was a spin off called "Shingeki no shcool" where Historia was a cheerleader, Mikasa a goth, and they went to a normal high school. What role do you think Mustang would play? I really think he would be the former juvenile delinquent who received a scholarship to join the team, probably with his character he wouldn't have any friends, not even Nanaba or Historia.


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