𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀 | 𝐋. 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐍

𝐈.𝐈𝐗

❝𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕 𝑰 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈.❞
— 𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐀𝐘

꧁꧂

IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE, Oruo and Eld slashed through the training Titan's ankles, making way for Petra, who swooped down less than a second later.

The loud whizzing of Petra's wire ceased when she latched onto the training Titan's eyes and sliced through. Whirling to Gunther, the man nodded firmly. Valen surged forward and curved her body, swinging her blades and piercing the placeholder nape.

The shrill ringing of a whistle cracked through the air, sending everyone reeling to the border of the woods. Valen plunged to the underbrush, the grass flattening under her boots. Reclined against a trunk was Eren, his Titans markings gradually fading from his skin, and his ODM gear rested beside him. Their eyes connected before the boy snapped his gaze to the grass—Eren had yet to speak to her.

Lining up beside Eld, Valen rolled back her shoulders, wincing. It's not that training had worn her—she'd grown accustomed to the twinging in her muscles that followed grueling training sessions years ago. It was last night's sleeping position that'd spurred the aching.

Valen flushed—embarrassed and angry. Waking in the morning, folded in an armchair, rays of sunshine stretching across the stone. Confusion seizing her, she'd instantly tried determining her location, squinting at the chairs positioned before the desk, the bookcase backed against the stone, and the smell of clean linen—until her brain had pieced everything together.

And when it had, she was pissed.

She'd escaped as quickly as possible. Thanks to some benevolent being, not a soul had witnessed her scurrying out from his office. The tension between her and her squadmates had barely vanished, so had anyone seen her, things could have reverted to their original, tense state—not in her best interest.

"Good work, everyone," Levi praised. So far, he hadn't said anything regarding her impromptu siesta—he hadn't said a thing to her all day. "We'll be doing this tomorrow morning, too, so we should be seeing improvements then, too. Remember what we adjusted today, and we should be alright." He swished his hand. "Dismissed."

"Sir!" They dispersed, and they trudged back to the castle. Valen labored like a mule, her ODM gear seemingly weighing heavier than when she'd strapped it on in the morning. Her endurance was improving, but the training regimen the Captain designed was taxing on her body. But she was getting stronger—she could easily climb the taller trees if she wanted to. Being on the Special Ops had its perks.

Valen waded through a dense brush of berries, and her sight of the castle sharpened, its spires and towers backed by a darkening cerulean. Ankling toward the building, the woods' earthly smell dulled until the castle's natural essence of stone and dust took over. The raucous chorus of cicadas diminished as the castle door closed behind them, the silvery ringing weakening to a dull clicking. Everyone parted their own ways, Eld and Gunther strolling toward the kitchen, Eren stumbling to the cellar, and Petra bound for her own quarters; Oruo's destination was not of concern to Valen—she planned on passing by her quarters to pick up her toiletries. Hopefully, the spring water would be the remedy to the tenderness burdening her shoulders.