We climb out of the hole without a word. David is sitting a short distance away, his back against a tree, watching me.
"You finally done? Let's get going."
He gets to his feet and hands me my ODM gear and daggers he must have recovered. I take them without comment. We head toward the base house in silence.
Every so often, I catch him glancing sideways at me, his expression unreadable. I know he's checking to see if I'm all right — but what could he even say? He knows I don't talk about the things that claw at me, and tonight… tonight is beyond anything words could touch.
At the safe house, I head straight for the sink. Washing my hands has become routine after missions, my mind moving on autopilot. From the bedroom, I can hear David moving around, his boots on the wooden floor.
I walk toward the door, ready to head home topside, when his hand closes around my arm.
"What?" My voice is flat, empty.
He looks pained, his jaw tight. "I—I…"
I cut him off. "David, there's nothing to say. And don't you dare try to apologize for something that wasn't in your control."
I pull away, but he catches my hand this time. His grip is trembling.
"Then why can't you look at me?" His voice cracks. "You must blame me for something. You're… different."
I keep my gaze fixed ahead. "I can't look at you because all I see is pity. Sadness."
He flinches.
"I need you to understand something," I continue, my tone steady now. "What happened tonight didn't break me. It made me stronger. I will never let scum like that think they have any right to me." I pause, the words coming sharper, more certain. "I am who I am because of the trials I've survived. This is no different. It's just another fire I've walked through — and it's only fueled my commitment to Thorn, and to what we do for the people."
I finally turn to him and smile. His eyes widen — as if smiling in a moment like this is unthinkable.
"I will make them all pay," I say softly, but with steel in my voice. "And I won't stop until every last one of them is gone."
David's POV
Her words left me stunned. My face must have shown it — because there she was, smiling after what had just happened, speaking about how it only fueled her passion.
She didn't look broken. She looked… unstoppable.An angel of death.A reaper of justice.
It scared me, not because she was dangerous, but because I realized just how far she'd go, and how much I wanted to follow her into the fire. With her on our side, the world wouldn't just know freedom… it would know vengeance.
I stepped forward and pulled her against me. She flinched, just barely, then her body eased into mine. I wrapped my arms around her as if I could shield her from everything, even though I knew she didn't need shielding.
"I'll be your weapon," I said into her hair, my voice low, certain. "Use me as you will."
I felt her smile against my chest, and in that moment, I knew — we were about to burn the world down together.
Scarlet's POV
By the time I make it back to the surface and into my house, my body feels like it's carrying every ounce of the night's weight. The shower is long and hot — steam curling around me as I scrub away the dirt, blood, and the hands that touched me.
I'm sore. Bruised. But somehow… I've never felt so alive.
Crawling into bed, I let the darkness pull me under without resistance.
Morning comes too quickly. My reflection greets me with a split lip — reopened thanks to last night — and faint shadows under my eyes. My body aches in quiet protest with every movement, but it's nothing I can't handle.
I unlock the shop door, the familiar creak greeting me like an old friend. The smell of sawdust and machine oil wraps around me as I step inside. Just another day… on the outside.
Inside, though, I'm sharper. Hungrier.
One week later
I'm at the shop, bent over the last few details of an order due today. The hum of tools and the faint tang of oil in the air make it easy to disappear into the work.
It's Friday. This weekend, during the political party, David and I have another target. Short notice, but he rarely shows his face in public — this is our opening, and I'm not about to waste it.
My body's healed now. The bruises are gone, the soreness nothing but a memory. And in their place? A fire that feels like it could burn the whole damn city down.
From the outside, people might think I'm suppressing it all — burying what happened in work and violence. They'd call it unhealthy. But they'd be wrong. I'm not burying it. I'm feeding it.
The bell above the shop door chimes, and in walks Commander Erwin, Captain Levi, and Jean. Even without the uniforms, they draw attention — all sharp edges and quiet authority.
The commander smiles warmly. "Good morning, Mrs. Jade. We're here to pick up our orders."
I return the smile. "Of course. I finished them yesterday. Right this way, gentlemen — we'll make sure everything fits perfectly."
We head to the back, where I pull the finished uniforms from their racks. The commander accepts his with a polite nod. "I'm sure they're perfect," he says, "since they were made by you."
A small blush creeps up my cheeks before I can stop it. Somewhere to the side, I hear a quiet tsk. I glance over to find Captain Levi rolling his eyes, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Jean is the first to emerge, dressed in his formal uniform. I step up to him, my hands brushing along the shoulders, checking seams and structure. He shivers slightly at my touch.
"Good morning, Jean. How have you been?"
"I'm great!" he says with a grin. "How about you, Mrs. Jade? Any plans for the weekend?"
I smile with my eyes closed, keeping my voice light. "Actually, yes. I'm looking forward to it — it's going to be an exciting one."
I move down the front of his uniform, checking the pockets.
"What's got you so excited?" he presses. "Have a date or something?"
Before I answer, the commander steps in. "I don't think that's appropriate to ask a young lady, Jean."
I wave it off. "Oh, no, it's quite all right. And… I suppose you could say it's a date — or something like that." I giggle softly, though the truth is, I'm picturing the target I'll be eliminating. Now that's exciting.
Jean's smile falters slightly, but before he can speak, I step back. "Well, looks like your uniform fits like a glove! Anything feel off? Any alterations needed?"
He moves his arms and shakes his head. "No, it's perfect."
"Great. You can change, and I'll have it pressed and hung for you. Next!"
Jean disappears, and the commander steps forward. I repeat the process, my hands brushing over his shoulders and seams — and I can't help but notice just how broad and solid he is. Damn, Commander.
I make small talk. "So, Commander — wearing this to anything special?"
He glances down at me. "There's a military banquet this weekend. Formalities, really."
I pause for a heartbeat, not looking up at him. My shock must've been written all over my face — shit. I pull myself together quickly, masking it with a casual smile.
"Oh, how nice. Just make sure you let loose a little, Commander. You look like the type who never lets his guard down, always thinking about the next move. Turn that big brain off once in a while."
I giggle, and he smirks just faintly. "Well, the Titans never rest, so neither shall I."
I hum in agreement. "Can't argue with that, Commander. Well, if everything feels good, you're free to go change."
As he walks away, I can't help but let my gaze linger — the man really is an all-around handsome package. When he disappears into the changing area, my eyes drift to Captain Levi, who is practically the physical embodiment of boredom.
"Well, Captain Levi," I say, "if you're ready, it's your turn."
He walks over, and I can't help but remember the last time we were this close — after work, when he'd grabbed my chin without warning, interrogated me about my busted lip, and then walked away like it was nothing. I shake the thought out of my head. The others are waiting out front, so now it's just the two of us in the room.
I step up to him, my hands settling on his shoulders, fingertips gliding slowly across the fabric. He stiffens at first, then relaxes. I glance up through my lashes, but his gaze is fixed somewhere over my head.
"What are you looking at?" he asks, his tone dry, eyes still forward.
I give a small, amused hum. "Nothing. You just always look so serious. You and the Commander — you're alike. You respect him the most, don't you?"
Finally, a side glance. "What makes you think that? Besides, I don't see how it's any of your business."
I let my hands slide down one of his arms, feeling the hard muscle beneath the uniform. "You're right, it isn't my business, Captain. Just an observation. Please excuse the intrusive question."
I start to step back, but his hand shoots out, catching me by the waist. My body goes still, instincts kicking in — my hand slips toward the pocket of my apron, where my sharp thread cutter rests. For a second, I wonder if he's finally figured me out.
When I look up, his steel eyes are already locked on mine. I begin to ease the blade free, but his voice cuts through the air, halting my movement.
"Your lip," he says, his other hand coming up to gently take my chin, tilting it so he can inspect the faint scar. "It's healed well."
My breath catches. "Yeah… just a little TLC and I'm good as new."
His thumb grazes over the spot where the cut used to be. The touch is feather-light, but there's weight in it. "Hm. If I ever catch who did that to you," he says, voice low, "I'll make them regret ever touching you."
My heart stutters. "L–like… kill them?"I don't even know why I asked. The words just slipped out before I could catch them.
He nods once. "Whatever it takes for them to get the message."
Heat rushes to my face, my pulse quickening. I can feel the gleam in my eyes, the way a slow smile pulls at my lips. I'm about to say something—something I probably shouldn't—when I'm abruptly pushed back by reality.
"Levi," the Commander's voice cuts in, "I just got word we're needed back."
I glance from the Commander to the Captain. He's already starting to walk away.
"Wait, Captain—there's one more thing."
The Commander heads for the front, leaving us alone again. I move to my desk, pick up the crisp white cravat I'd made for his uniform, and walk back to him. Sliding it into place beneath his collar, I smooth the fabric with deliberate precision. He lifts his chin slightly, and my knuckles brush against the side of his neck. A faint shiver runs through him; goosebumps rise across his skin.
I keep my voice even, but my words are laced with truth. "Captain, you have no idea what it means to me… knowing you'd do something like that for me. The thought of you putting scum like him in the ground…" My smile deepens, my eyes sharpening with something darker. "…it excites me."
For a moment, I know the bloodlust is there in my gaze. I just hope he mistakes it for admiration.
The way he's looking at me now is enough to pull my insides into knots—a smirk that feels dangerous, like gravity itself is trying to draw us closer.
And then the front door bell rings.
The spell shatters. I step back, pulling my mask—Jade's mask—over my true self again. Clearing my throat, I say lightly, "Well, I'll meet you up front and have y'all taken care of."
I brush past him, my steps careful, measured, as if nothing had happened.
I wave goodbye, watching the three of them disappear down the street until they're swallowed by the crowd. Leaning back against the wall, I tilt my head toward the sky.Damn.