Levi is already a blur. A tornado of steel and fury. He carves a path through a seven-meter’s nape, spins off its collapsing skull, and lands on a crawling four-meter, driving both blades into its eyes. “MOVE!” he roars, blood painting his cravat.
And the Survey Corps charges—not to win. Not to survive. attack on survey corps save
Erwin’s voice barely cuts through the chaos. “Fall back! Protect the horses!” Levi is already a blur
“DEDICATE YOUR HEARTS!” he shouts.
They are surrounded. Three dozen soldiers remain. Their gas hisses empty. spins off its collapsing skull
Lightning splits the sky. The shing of hardening crystals echoes. His skeletal frame rises, punching a fifteen-meter clean into the air. It buys ten seconds.