let’s go battle ; p. galliard · Y/n story by @cloverrbombss

The salt wind off the harbor carried the smell of blood before the first shout ever came. Liberio lay sprawled below the ridge, its rooftops still gleaming under the late afternoon sun, oblivious to what was about to descend upon it.

Jean Kirstein

muttering, eyes fixed on the festival square I still can't believe we're doing this. Marching into an enemy city in broad daylight, dressed like… this.

He tugged at the collar of his borrowed Marleyan uniform. The fabric was stiff, unfamiliar. Around them, the others shifted in similar outfits—civilian clothes, military coats, anything that wouldn't scream Paradis.

Hange Zoë

grinning, too bright for the situation That's the point, Jean! We're not soldiers today. We're theater-goers. Tourists. Diplomats, even.

Levi Ackerman

flatly, from the front We're targets.

He didn't turn around. His grey eyes stayed locked on the stage below, where the play was still going on. The performers moved in their bright costumes, heedless of the predators gathering in the wings.

Armin Arlert

quietly, binoculars pressed to his eyes Eren's in position. I can see the Warhammer's family in their box. The Tybur heir is about to make his announcement.

A beat of silence. Somewhere in the crowd below, a child laughed.

Levi Ackerman

Ready your gear. When he transforms, we move.

The wind shifted. And somewhere in the distance, beyond the walls of Liberio, beyond the ocean, beyond everything they had ever known—something vast and ancient stirred.

Hange Zoë

Hey, Y/n. softer, just for her You good?