Dangerous Territory

A Sign From Above

Somehow, amid pain, grief, and intense coldness, Eren had fallen asleep. Or more accurately, he finally passed out as his mind despaired to the lowest depths possible.

He managed to slip into a dream, standing on the banks of the Moselle, Levi looking so handsome, not in that silly dress and wig, but just him, his black hair glistening in the sunlight as his narrow eyes gleamed up at Eren, filled with adoration.

Then Levi said calmly, "You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

"What? No!" Eren insisted, wanting to hold Levi but somehow unable to move his arms.

"Du farkirtst mir di yorn."

"What does that mean?"

Levi's eyes suddenly went cold and lifeless. One seemed to melt until a black hole was all that was left, with blood pouring down his face. "You'll be the death of me, takhshet."

Eren wanted to protest, but then he heard a noise above him. Looking up into the clear skies, he saw a squadron of planes shaped like falcons. Off in the distance, he heard an air raid klaxon wailing.

"Levi! We need to go."

Levi refused to move, and when Eren tried to reach for him, he realized he still could not use his arms. One was broken and twisted in a bad direction, the other was numb and soaked in blood.

"No! Levi, hurry."

"You should go, takhshet. Just leave me. I'll slow you down."

He again wanted to reach out and drag Levi to safety, but Eren could not move his arms.

"Levi!" he screamed as he heard the whistle of a bomb heading their way.

Levi looked over to him with one warm but sad eye as he whispered, "Goodbye."

"Nooooo! Levi—"

* * *

Eren was jolted awake by a very real bomb, only to realize half his dream was actually happening. There was a siren somewhere far away, the sound of airplanes overhead, soldiers shouting, gunfire, and then the ground under him shook with a bomb hitting the fort.

"What's going on?" he shouted, but no one replied.

Eren instantly felt nauseous from the pain. One hand was mostly numb, only the index and thumb had any feeling or movement, and the other ... God, he wished that one would go numb too. He looked down, and the arm Captain Woermann had broken was still crooked, swollen, and horrifically discolored with patches of red and purple.

Another nearby bomb made Eren's eardrums ring. Despite the pain, he managed to get to his feet so he could walk over to the door.

"Grice? Is anyone there?"

Colt Grice was gone, and far down the hallway he heard running feet. There were more shouts, more bullets firing, more deep rumbles as bombs dropped overhead. It seemed all the soldiers were heading into battle positions.

Eren had seen Armin's maps enough to realize what must be happening. The Americans had been sitting to the north and south of Metz for weeks, slowly encircling it. Now, they were on the move, and this fort stood in their way.

"Are you kidding me?" he whispered.

Was Magath right? Did Zeke somehow already know about Eren's arrest? Had he sent an order to have the Americans attack now, before Eren could be shipped off to Berlin?

He dared not get up his hopes for a rescue. More than likely, this was just a typical attack, like so many before it. He would die as the bombs fell on the fort and tanks pelted the thick concrete walls. Even if Americans took over the fort, he was a German soldier. He would end up in a prisoner of war camp, torn away from Levi, and there was no guarantee that the Americans would bother to help some injured Jewish prisoner.