Trost

The interior of the supply depot was a stark contrast to the chaos outside. Dust motes danced in shafts of fading sunlight that streamed through the windows, giving the scene an almost peaceful quality. But the illusion was shattered by the ragged breathing of the exhausted soldiers and the distant rumbles of Titans moving through the city.

Aaron Mustang, his uniform stained with evaporating Titan blood and his own sweat, turned to address the group. His green eyes, sharp and alert despite the fatigue evident in the set of his shoulders, swept over the assembled soldiers – a mix of his own squad and the freshly graduated recruits of the 104th Training Corps.

"Alright, where are the supplies kept?" he asked, his voice carrying the unmistakable tone of command.

A trembling voice answered from the back of the group. One of the depot's staff, who had been hiding since the Titan incursion began, stepped forward. "T-they're on the floor below us, sir," he stammered, his eyes wide with fear. "But it's..."

Aaron moved to the stairwell, peering down into the gloom below. What he saw made his blood run cold. The lower floor was teeming with Titans of various sizes, their grotesque forms milling about aimlessly. The gas canisters and blade dispensers were tantalizingly visible beyond the mass of Titan bodies.

A tense silence fell over the group as they all realized the gravity of their situation. They had made it this far, only to find themselves trapped with their salvation just out of reach.

Aaron's mind raced, calculating odds and weighing options. They were all low on gas, their blades dulled from constant use. Taking on that many Titans in such close quarters would be suicide. But without those supplies, they were as good as dead anyway.

"I'll go," Aaron announced, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "I'll retrieve gas for my gear and take out the Titans. Once it's clear, the rest of you can resupply."

His declaration was met with a chorus of protests. Christa stepped forward, her blue eyes wide with concern. "Aaron, no! It's too dangerous, even for you!"

Nanaba, usually stoic, couldn't hide the worry in her voice. "Captain, please reconsider. The risk is too great."

Dino and Neil exchanged glances before speaking up in unison. "Let us go with you, Captain. We can watch your back."

Aaron shook his head, his expression resolute. "No. I move fastest alone. Besides, if I fail, you'll need every able body to find another way out."

Jean, his face a mask of disbelief and frustration, spoke up. "This is insane, Mustang! We don't need another suicidal maniac like Eren. There has to be another way!"

But Aaron wasn't listening anymore. His mind was made up, his body already coiling with tension as he prepared to move. Without another word, he vaulted over the railing and dropped to the floor below.

The moment his feet touched the ground, chaos erupted. The nearest Titan, a 3-meter class with a disproportionately large head, lunged for him with surprising speed. Aaron's reflexes, honed by years of combat, saved him. He ducked under the grasping hands and charged forward, using his momentum to slam his shoulder into the Titan's midsection.

Despite its size advantage, the Titan staggered back, momentarily stunned. Aaron didn't waste a second. He sprinted towards the supply racks, acutely aware of the thundering footsteps behind him as more Titans gave chase.

His lungs burned, muscles screaming in protest as he pushed himself to the limit. He could feel the hot breath of a Titan on the back of his neck, hear the snapping of jaws just inches from his head. But he didn't falter, didn't look back.

With a desperate lunge, Aaron reached the gas canisters. His hands moved in a blur, muscle memory taking over as he swapped out his empty tanks for full ones. The familiar weight settled into his gear, and he allowed himself a brief moment of relief.

But there was no time to rest. The Titans were closing in, their massive forms blocking any escape route. Aaron's eyes darted around, searching for a way out, when a flash of movement from above caught his attention.

Christa, her face set in a determined frown, had climbed onto the railing of the upper floor. "Aaron!" she shouted, and with all her might, she hurled her spare blades towards him.

Time seemed to slow as the blades spun through the air. Aaron's hand shot out, snatching them from their arc with preternatural precision. In one fluid motion, he slotted them into his handles, the familiar click of metal on metal like music to his ears.

Reinvigorated by the fresh equipment, Aaron sprang into action. He triggered his ODM gear, the sudden burst of gas propelling him up and away from the grasping hands of the Titans. He became a whirlwind of motion, blades flashing in the dim light as he struck again and again.

Titan after Titan fell, their massive bodies crashing to the floor as steam rose from their fatal wounds. Aaron moved with a grace and efficiency that bordered on inhuman, each movement calculated for maximum effect with minimum energy expenditure.

From the upper floor, the others watched in awe. Jean, his earlier skepticism forgotten, muttered under his breath, "He's a monster... a real monster."

Nanaba, her eyes never leaving her captain's form, nodded grimly. "That's because he is one," she said, her voice a mixture of pride and something darker. "Only Captain Levi surpasses him. Not even Squad Leader Mike can match Mustang's level."

In a matter of minutes that felt like hours, it was over. Aaron stood amidst a field of steaming Titan corpses, his chest heaving with exertion but his stance still ready for combat. He looked up at the group above, a hint of his old cockiness showing through in the slight quirk of his lips.

"It's clear," he called out, his voice rough from the exertion. "Come down and resupply. Quickly, before more show up."

The group began to move, relief evident in their faces as they prepared to descend. But their moment of triumph was short-lived.

A thunderous crash shook the building, and the wall where they had entered earlier crumbled inward. A massive Titan head pushed through the opening, its dead eyes scanning the room hungrily. Jean, who had been closest to that side, stumbled back with a cry of alarm as massive fingers reached for him.

Aaron's body tensed, ready to spring into action once more, even as his mind raced to calculate the odds of reaching Jean in time. But before he could move, something unexpected happened.

Another massive form burst through the wall, colliding with the reaching Titan with bone-crushing force. As debris rained down and dust filled the air, Aaron's eyes widened in disbelief at what he was seeing.

The new arrival was unmistakably a Titan, but unlike any he had ever encountered. It stood around 15 meters tall, its body rippling with well-defined muscles. Long, dark hair framed a face that, while still grotesque by human standards, seemed to hold an spark of intelligence that normal Titans lacked.

The supply depot trembled under the onslaught of Titan combat, dust and debris raining down from the crumbling ceiling. Aaron Mustang stood amidst the chaos, his emerald eyes fixed on the bizarre scene unfolding before him. The long-haired Titan, a creature of raw power and inexplicable intent, tore through its fellow monsters with a ferocity that bordered on human.

"What the hell is that thing?" Jean's voice cracked with a mixture of awe and terror as he watched the rogue Titan slam another of its kind into a nearby building.

Aaron's mind raced, trying to make sense of this unprecedented turn of events. In all his years with the Survey Corps, he had never encountered anything like this. "I don't know," he admitted, his usual confidence shaken. "But whatever it is, it's buying us time."

As if on cue, the door to the upper level burst open. Armin stumbled in, his blond hair matted with sweat and grime, followed closely by Mikasa, Connie, and Gus. They all bore the signs of intense combat, their uniforms torn and stained with evaporating Titan blood.

"Captain!" Gus called out, relief evident in his voice. "We made it!"

Aaron nodded sharply, acknowledging their arrival without taking his eyes off the battling Titans. "Report," he ordered.

Mikasa stepped forward, her dark eyes flickering between Aaron and the rogue Titan. "That Titan appeared a while ago," she explained, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. "It's been killing other Titans ever since. We don't understand why, but it seems to be ignoring humans completely."

Aaron's brow furrowed as he processed this information. A Titan that killed its own kind and left humans alone? It defied everything they knew about these creatures. But there was no time to dwell on the mystery.

"We need to move," Aaron announced, his voice cutting through the din of battle. "This is our chance to escape while that thing has the other Titans distracted. My squad and I will stay behind to monitor the situation. The rest of you, get to safety behind the inner wall."

His words were met with a chorus of protests, the loudest of which came from an unexpected source. Christa pushed her way to the front of the group, her blue eyes blazing with determination. "No!" she exclaimed. "We can't just leave you here, Aaron. It's too dangerous!"

Aaron felt a familiar warmth in his chest at Christa's concern, but he pushed it aside. Now wasn't the time for sentimentality. Before he could respond, Ymir's sardonic voice cut through the tension.

"Don't be an idiot, Christa," she drawled, grabbing the smaller girl's arm. "This is our chance to get out of this hellhole. Let the professionals handle it."

Nanaba approached Aaron, her expression serious. "Captain, should we eliminate that abnormal Titan? It could pose a significant threat if it turns on us."

Aaron considered for a moment, watching as the rogue Titan grappled with two opponents simultaneously. "No," he decided. "For now, we let it fight. The more Titans it kills, the better our odds of survival become. We'll reassess if its behavior changes."

As if fate was listening to their deliberations, the tide of battle suddenly shifted. The rogue Titan, which had seemed unstoppable moments before, began to falter. Its movements became sluggish, its attacks less precise. The other Titans, sensing weakness, pressed their advantage.

In a matter of minutes, the tables had turned completely. The long-haired Titan stood swaying, its arms torn off and one leg mangled beyond use. With a final, earth-shaking roar, it toppled backward, crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust and steam.

An eerie silence fell over the depot as everyone held their breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Suddenly, Armin's voice cut through the quiet, filled with disbelief and hope. "Look! There, in the nape!"

All eyes turned to the fallen Titan. As the steam cleared, a figure became visible, emerging from the disintegrating flesh of the creature's neck. Aaron's eyes widened in shock as he recognized the unconscious form.

"Eren?" he breathed, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Armin's voice shook as he spoke, his brilliant mind struggling to reconcile what he was seeing with what he knew to be impossible. "But... I saw him get eaten. How can he be...?"

Mikasa stood frozen, her usually stoic demeanor cracking as she stared at Eren's prone form. Nearby, Reiner and Bertholdt exchanged a loaded glance, their expressions unreadable.

Aaron's tactical mind snapped back into gear as he saw several Titans lumbering towards Eren's exposed position. "Questions later," he barked. "Right now, we need to get Eren out of there. Squad, with me! We're going to clear a path!"

Without hesitation, Aaron's team sprang into action. They moved with the coordinated precision of a unit that had faced death together countless times. Nanaba and Dino took point, their blades flashing as they cut down the nearest Titans. Neil and Gus provided cover fire, using their ODM gear to distract and disorient the approaching monsters.

Aaron himself was a blur of motion, his blades singing through the air as he carved a path straight to Eren. The recruits watched in awe as the Survey Corps veterans decimated Titan after Titan with ruthless efficiency.

"Holy shit," Connie breathed, his eyes wide. "The Survey Corps really is on another level."

Reaching Eren's position, Aaron scooped up the unconscious boy, cradling him carefully. As he turned to retreat, a massive hand came crashing down towards them. Aaron's heart leapt into his throat, knowing he couldn't dodge while carrying Eren.

But the blow never landed. In a flash of steel, Nanaba appeared, her blades slicing cleanly through the Titan's wrist. The severed hand crashed to the ground mere inches from Aaron's feet.

"Thanks for the save," Aaron called out, genuine gratitude in his voice.

Nanaba nodded sharply, already turning to face the next threat. "Any time, Captain. What's our next move?"

Aaron's eyes scanned the battlefield, assessing their options. The Titans were regrouping, drawn by the scent of so many humans in one place. They needed to move, and fast.

"Fall back to the inner wall," he ordered. "We need to report this situation and get Eren to safety. Use your ODM gear and conserve gas where you can. We don't know what else we might face on the way."

With a series of affirmative shouts, the group launched into action. They soared through the ruined streets of Trost, Aaron leading the way with Eren secure in his arms. The recruits followed close behind, their movements less polished but fueled by desperate determination.

As they neared the inner gate, Aaron caught sight of a group of Garrison soldiers manning the defenses. He angled towards them, landing with a grunt on the weathered stone of the wall. The others touched down around him, forming a protective circle as curious and fearful eyes turned their way.

A Garrison captain approached, his face pale and drawn from the day's horrors. "Report, soldier," he demanded, his eyes widening as he recognized Aaron's Survey Corps insignia.

Aaron straightened, his voice clear and authoritative as he spoke. "Captain Aaron Mustang of the Survey Corps, sir. We have a situation that requires immediate attention. This cadet," he gestured to the still-unconscious Eren, "somehow possesses the ability to transform into a Titan. He used this power to fight other Titans and protect his fellow soldiers."

The Garrison captain's face drained of what little color it had left. "A human... turning into a Titan?" he stammered, taking an involuntary step back. "That's... that's impossible!"

Aaron's expression hardened. "I saw it with my own eyes, sir. We need to secure this cadet and report to high command immediately. The implications of this discovery could change everything we know about the Titans."

The captain seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment before nodding shakily. "Very well. Take your team and escort the cadets to safety. I'll... I'll inform my superiors of the situation."

Aaron nodded sharply. "Understood, sir. Armin, Mikasa," he turned to the two cadets who had been hovering anxiously nearby. "Do you want to stay with Eren?"

Both nodded without hesitation. "We're not leaving him," Mikasa said, her voice brooking no argument.

"Alright," Aaron agreed. "The rest of you, come with me. We need to get you to safety and regroup with the other survivors."

As Aaron prepared to lead the group away, he caught sight of something that made his blood run cold. The Garrison soldiers were slowly encircling Armin, Mikasa, and the unconscious Eren, their blades drawn and faces set in grim determination.

"Damn it," Aaron muttered under his breath. He should have anticipated this reaction. Fear made people do desperate, stupid things.

....

The cobblestone streets of Hermina District echoed with the hurried footsteps of soldiers and civilians alike, all seeking refuge from the chaos that had engulfed nearby Trost. Amidst this sea of fear and uncertainty, Captain Aaron Mustang led his small group to a relatively quiet side street, away from the main flow of refugees.

As they came to a stop, Aaron's keen eyes swept over his charges, assessing for injuries. His gaze lingered on Christa, noting a thin line of red on her palm. Without hesitation, he knelt before her, gently taking her hand in his.

"You're hurt," he said softly, his usual gruff demeanor softening as he examined the cut.

Christa blinked in surprise, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Oh, it's nothing, really. Just a scratch from the ODM gear."

But Aaron was already reaching for the small medical kit at his belt, his movements practiced and efficient. As he began to clean and dress the wound, the others watched with varying degrees of interest and amusement.

A short distance away, Nanaba observed the scene with an unreadable expression. Beside her, Dino leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You know why they call the Captain the 'Untamed Stallion,' right?" he whispered conspiratorially.

Nanaba raised an eyebrow but didn't respond, her eyes still fixed on Aaron and Christa.

Dino continued, undeterred by her silence. "It's because he doesn't bow to anyone, not even the king himself. And yet look at him now, on his knees for a tiny blonde."

Nanaba's hand unconsciously went to her own short, blonde hair. "I'm blonde too, you know," she muttered, a hint of something that might have been jealousy coloring her tone.

Dino chuckled, oblivious to the dangerous territory he was treading. "Yeah, but the Captain seems to prefer them small and cute, if you know what I mean."

His words were cut short by a piercing glare from Aaron, who had apparently heard every word despite the distance. Dino's face paled as he realized his mistake.

"I'M SO SORRY, CAPTAIN!" he yelped, immediately dropping to the ground and beginning a set of rapid push-ups as self-imposed punishment.

Aaron sighed heavily, turning his attention back to Christa's hand. She giggled softly at the display, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

"They really seem to respect you," she observed, watching as Dino continued his frantic exercise.

Aaron snorted, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "More like they're terrified of me," he replied, his voice low enough that only Christa could hear.

"I can understand why," Christa teased gently. "Do you still go around punching people for no apparent reason?"

Aaron's smile widened slightly, a glimpse of his old self shining through the hardened exterior. "Only did that my first year," he defended himself. "Had to establish dominance somehow."

Christa's laughter rang out, clear and bright in the somber atmosphere. "And you don't do it anymore?" she asked, her eyes dancing with mirth.

"Well," Aaron drawled, finishing the bandage on her hand with a gentle pat, "maybe on my days off."

Their shared moment of levity was interrupted by Ymir, who approached with narrowed eyes and a scowl on her face. "Hey, idiot," she called out to Aaron. "Why are you getting so handsy with my sweet Christa?"

Aaron rose to his full height, meeting Ymir's glare with a composed expression. "I see you haven't changed, Ymir. Not even my captain's rank can temper that sharp tongue of yours."

Ymir's scowl deepened. "That doesn't change the fact that you're trying to take advantage of Christa."

A low chuckle escaped Aaron's lips, further irritating Ymir. "What's so funny?" she demanded. "Don't you know Christa and I are getting married?"

Aaron's eyebrow quirked upward as he turned to Christa. "Is that so?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Christa shook her head emphatically. "Of course not," she said, shooting Ymir an exasperated look.

"You see?" Aaron turned back to Ymir, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Christa is free to be courted by whoever she chooses."

Ymir's face reddened with anger. "What are you trying to say, Mustang?"

Before the situation could escalate further, Jean appeared, a knowing smirk on his face. "Well, well, Mustang. I see you're still indulging in your favorite pastime of riling up Ymir."

Aaron shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Someone has to do it," he replied nonchalantly.

From their position a short distance away, Gus watched the exchange with wide-eyed fascination. He leaned towards Nanaba, his voice hushed. "It's strange to see the Captain so relaxed, isn't it?"

Dino, still in the midst of his self-imposed push-ups, couldn't resist chiming in. "That's because he's head over heels for the little blonde," he panted between repetitions.

Nanaba's eyes narrowed dangerously. "That's not true," she snapped, more forcefully than she'd intended.

Dino paused in his exercise, looking up at Nanaba with a knowing grin. "Oh, I see. You're in the denial stage, watching your beloved Captain fall for another woman."

A faint blush colored Nanaba's cheeks. "I don't look at the Captain that way," she protested weakly.

"Sure, sure," Dino replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And I'm the king of the walls."

As the banter continued around her, Christa's expression grew serious. She turned to Aaron, her blue eyes filled with concern. "Aaron," she said softly, "what happened to Eren? Is he alright?"

Before Aaron could respond, a commanding voice cut through the chatter. "Captain Mustang."

All heads turned to see Commander Dot Pixis approaching, his bald head gleaming in the late afternoon sun. Aaron immediately straightened, bringing his fist to his chest in a crisp salute.

"Commander Pixis, sir," he acknowledged, his demeanor shifting instantly from relaxed to professional.

Pixis nodded in greeting, his weathered face grave. "I need to speak with you, Captain. It's urgent."

Aaron turned to his squad and the cadets. "Stay here and rest. I'll be back shortly." With that, he followed Pixis a short distance away, out of earshot of the others.

Once they were alone, Pixis spoke in low, urgent tones. "We have a plan to retake Trost," he began without preamble. "We're going to use Eren Yeager's Titan ability to seal the breach in the wall with a large boulder."

Aaron's eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent, listening intently.

"We'll need your squad's assistance," Pixis continued. "Your experience and skill will be crucial in protecting Eren and ensuring the mission's success."

Aaron nodded, his mind already racing through potential strategies and contingencies. "I understand, sir. When do we move out?"

Pixis's expression was grim. "Immediately. We can't afford to waste any time. The longer we wait, the more ground we lose to the Titans."

"And Eren?" Aaron asked. "Is he prepared for this?"

Pixis sighed heavily. "He'll have to be. We don't have any other options at this point. I'll brief you on the full details shortly, but for now, prepare your squad. We move as soon as everything is in place."

Aaron saluted once more. "Understood, Commander. We'll be ready."

As Pixis walked away, Aaron turned back to his waiting comrades. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders. The fate of Trost, and perhaps all of humanity, would depend on the success of this mission.

His eyes met Christa's, and for a moment, he allowed himself to feel the full weight of his emotions – fear, determination, and a fierce protectiveness for those under his command. Then, with a deep breath, he steeled himself. There would be time for feelings later. Right now, he had a job to do.

"Listen up," he called out, his voice ringing with authority. "We have new orders. Prepare yourselves. We're going back to Trost."

The atmosphere shifted instantly, tension replacing the earlier levity. As Aaron began to outline their role in the upcoming mission, he couldn't help but wonder what the coming hours would bring. One thing was certain – nothing would ever be the same after this day.

The sun began its descent towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the streets of Hermina. In the fading light, a group of soldiers prepared to face their greatest challenge yet, their hearts filled with a mixture of fear and determination. At their center stood Aaron Mustang, the Untamed Stallion, ready to lead them into the jaws of death once more.