Ackerman's Destiny

49

The Resistance fought back.

The Marleyans almost lost.

You retreated.

Stretching through most of the east, almost every country had banded it's men together to fight back. More than half of their resources belonged to Marley, so it was the Marleyans that lacked with their own resources.

Their development of Anti-Titan Weapons was a brick wall to the Titan Shifters and every Pure Titan sent on the battlefield. Strategies were made, plans of sending foot soldiers to infiltrate the inside of the enemy lands.

None returned.

There was a spy, clearly there was. Not only that, but analysis of how every major mind behind plans worked was set into place, and none of Marley's attack worked on them. They were a solidified wall, growing with every minute and bringing thousands of casualties to Marley.

So ofcourse, you were ecstatic.

"Nothing's working." You huffed and threw a pen on the ground.

A serious atmosphere had engulfed the tent, the sound of distant gunshots filling the tense silence. Towers of papers scattered from the table to the ground, covered with red and black ink, approvals and declines and fails in plans. Statistics of soldiers lost to how much the enemy had gained from the past six months.

The Resistance was strong.

Zeke, a man who usually contained his emotions, facing problems with a clear and calm mind while also making effective steps towards success had his head in his hands, fingers clutching his spectacles and rubbing the dark circles from his eyes. Colt Grice, Falco's older brother and Warrior Candidate for the Beast Titan, hastily looked through papers of war formations. Porco was sitting near the entrance, smoking with a distant look in his eyes. Pieck was on the battlefield somewhere, gaining intelligence. Reiner was nowhere to be found.

"You should work with your Squad, Commander Cadieux. Perhaps they'll give a little more insight than... whatever we are doing." Colt looked pale from exhaustion, clearly because no one in this tent had slept for more than 3 hours this past week.

"I've come to you after speaking through with those blunderheads. They managed to be worse than what we are doing here, and we haven't even found anything." You spat angrily. Even if there was a small ray of hope within you, the stupidity of your comrades was getting on your veins.

"Okay." Zeke suddenly got up from his chair, making Porco look back and Reiner to enter from who-knows-where. "We're taking a break. I don't give a flying fuck if anymore of our men die, we just need a break." Without another word, he left the tent.

You all looked at each other, shrugging at his behaviour and eventually following. The view of a hundred tents entered your vision. Injured men and women, bloody men and women, incapacitated men and women, all lay somewhere or the other. Zeke thumped across the pathway, getting salutes from here and there and then straightening up at your sight. Zeke then took a sharp left and then entered an empty tent that was filled with crates. He threw a few crates down, supplies falling down before he eventually found what he was searching for.

He lifted up a bottle. "We're going to drink."

Porco and Colt immediately cheered loudly, rushing to pick up the crate and going back to the tent you came from. You looked back at Zeke, a disappointed look on your face. "You know I don't drink."

"I know." He said, and then threw and paper bag at you.

You opened the bag and took a whiff inside, your body instantly calming down. Zeke smirked at you before you could thank him. He kissed your cheek and then left the tent, perhaps getting ready to drown himself in his sorrows.