𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀 | 𝐋. 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐍

𝐈𝐈.𝐈𝐈𝐈.𝐢

❝𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.❞
— 𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒

꧁꧂

VALEN SHOVED HER WAY INSIDE, WEDGING PAST CLUSTERS OF DENSELY PACKED SOLDIERS FROM THE GARRISON AND SCOUT REGIMENT ALIKE. 

It was akin to wading in a rapidly moving river. Voices—all carrying a distinctively panicked ring—pierced her ears as she pushed through, and the tension ringing in the air was enough to induce a nauseating migraine; it scared Valen how quickly chaos had unfurled in the barracks.

"It's the Captain!" a Garrison soldier cried. Unlike Valen, Levi had encountered no struggle entering the building, soldiers parting like sheep to allow him through— being Humanity's Strongest had its perks. Eventually, Levi spawned at Valen's side, and together, they emerged (disheveled) from the sea of heads. Nifa—who'd mysteriously arrived before them—expected them, jogging over. 

"Where's Commander Erwin?" Levi demanded, wasting not a second.

"In the meeting room!" Nifa answered, pointing around the corner. Valen and Levi exchanged a solid nod and rounded the corner, dashing down the main corridor and locating the nearest stairwell. Climbing the stairs to the second landing, the crowd's panicking quieted, replaced by the pounding of their shoes. All the people behind, she had space to think, to process what'd happened in the alleyway.

This damned skirt. Seething, Valen grasped fistfuls of fabric in her hands. But if she'd been given a minute to stop and breathe, she would certainly catch his lingering scent on her fabric, where their bodies had unknowingly (or even worse, knowingly) grazed one another's in a darkened alleyway. It was a raw thrill that'd drawn her closer, how tantalizing power was when it presented itself in the form of a clean white collar belonging to a shirt worn by an equally fastidious man. He'd felt it, too, enjoyed it, Valen surmised. Because instead of pushing back, smothering the all-consuming flame between them, he'd tossed in his personal stock of wood and watched the flame grow higher in the sky.

And the worst part? Valen had enjoyed it. Every. Single. Second. Of. It.

Arriving on the third floor, their pace slackened, and by the time the meeting room doors had presented themselves, they'd slowed into an easy, but no less purposeful amble. The corridor was even quieter than the stairwell and surprisingly empty for the administrative wing of the building— her nose stung from all the dust floating in the air. They came to a full stop at the doors and looked at one another.

Whatever was in store for them, it would be far from pleasant.

Through their gazes alone, they collectively determined Levi would be the one opening the door. Raising a single, scarred hand, Levi pushed open the heavy, wooden door to the meeting room, announcing their presence to the folks inside. Inside, several officers from the Scout and Garrison Regiments conversed around a long meeting table, none of them sitting. Even from the doorway, Valen picked up on how tense everyone was. Crossed arms, wrinkled foreheads, scathing frowns... harmony eluded them.