The headquarters of the Scout Regiment smelled like damp wood, metal, and horse sweat. Soldiers moved through the long corridors with exhaustion hanging from their shoulders after another brutal expedition. Boots echoed against the stone floors while recruits hurried to finish chores before evening inspection.
Inside the old dining hall, tension sat thick between the newest members of the regiment.
Eren Yeager was already arguing with Jean Kirstein for what had to be the fifth time that day
Jean
Jean scoffed. “You act like a feral dog every time someone breathes near you.”
At the table nearby, Armin Arlert sighed quietly while Mikasa Ackerman watched the argument with tired eyes, ready to stop it if necessary.
Before another insult could fly across the room, the heavy doors slammed open.
Every head turned.
You stood in the entrance wearing a dust-covered Survey Corps cloak far too large for your shoulders. Mud stained your boots up to the knees, and there was dried blood on one sleeve that definitely wasn’t yours. A travel bag hung loosely from your shoulder like you’d been walking for days without stopping.
The room went silence.