The Last of Its Kind [AoT]

LXV

"Kyra!" Two voices called out, causing Kyra to turn her head from the raising sun to see Jean and Connie waving her over to them.

Her eyebrow raised before walking over with a sigh. "Please stop yelling." She mumbled under her breath, feeling the throb in her head beginning again.

"What is it?" Kyra questioned stoically only for a pouch to be handed to her.

"Here, Connie found some on the ship." Jean said as Kyra unscrewed the lid and smelled the contents of the liquid.

"Yeah, it wasn't much, but I figured it was better than nothing. Hopefully, it helps with your head. I was going to wake you and give it to you while it's hot, but Jean and Armin-" Connie said with a smile before Jean cut him off.

"It's better to let her rest. Besides, Hange said anyone who tried waking her up would deal with the wrath of her two grumpy shorties." Jean pointed out, causing Kyra's stern eyes to narrow at Jean.

"Don't blame me. Her words, not mine, Kyra. Besides that container should keep it warm." Jean said as Kyra's eyes shifted towards Hange before she sighed in annoyance.

"Tch, thanks. At this point, the only rest that would do me any good is underground in a hole." Kyra commented dully.

Jean scoffed, "So you can live with a bunch of moles and plot to dig holes for me to fall into? No happenin'. Besides, we've been trying to warn you not to overdo it, and this is the consequence for not listening." Jean stated, crossing his arms over his chest as Connie glanced at Jean from the corner of his eye before stepping back.

Kyra's eyebrow raised as red eyes pierced into Jean. "And what makes you think I'd have that power? If I wanted you to fall into a hole, you would've been in a grave a long time ago. But if ya really want to keep blabbering on about your misfortunes, this place is bound to have a shovel somewhere. I think we have time to make your thoughts come to fruition." Kyra said indifferently as Jean raised his hands only for a shout to capture their attention.

"All right. Let's start fueling!" A man called ordered after making the final check to his list.

"Roger!" Men called out as they began to fuel up the plane.

Connie gave a chuckle as Jean breathed a sigh of relief.

"Looks like we're strained on time. Plus, we don't need to be lugging an injured you around because you went and did something stupid." Jean commented with a laugh as Kyra gave an amused smirk.

"That's too bad. Don't worry, according to you the moles will do the work for me." Kyra pointed out facetiously, causing Connie to laugh as Jean huffed.

"Good. Looks like we'll be out of here before the Rumbling arrives." Onyonkapon exhaled.

Kyra's eyes widened as she heard the sound of water droplets splashing to the ground accompanied by shaky and larbored inhales as Onyankopon gasped with wide eyes, turning his head back.

A familiar red-haired male stood on his feet with a slump as he raised the gun in front of him.

"Look, I get that you're a petty sore loser, but this is pathetic." Kyra stated in front of Floch. His eyes focus in and out, unable to distinguish figures in front of him.

Kyra clicked her tongue, seeing where he aimed. She quickly grabbed a wrench that rested on the crate as her eyes shifted back into fushia.

In haste, the wrench left her hand making contact with the barrel of the gun as the echo of gunshots rang out, and mechanics nearby ducked for cover.

The sound of a gun clambering to the ground was heard before the sounds of choking gasps left Floch as blood escaped from the knife pierced into his throat and the hook that pierced his chest.