The day finally arrived when Shadis deemed us minimally competent enough to attempt ODM drills among the towering trees of the nearby forest. A nervous excitement buzzed through the ranks. This was it – the true test, the skill that defined the Survey Corps, the very reason most of them endured Shadis's brutal regime.
Eren vibrated with anticipation, his eyes gleaming as he triple-checked his gear straps. "Finally," he breathed, looking towards the massive trees bordering the training grounds like ancient sentinels. "This is what we came here for."
Armin, beside him, meticulously reviewed the anchor mechanisms, his expression a mixture of apprehension and intense intellectual curiosity. "The physics are complex," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Calculating trajectory, gas expenditure, anchor points..."
My own preparation was marked by Mikasa's unnerving calm, though beneath it, my heart beat a little faster. This was different from the controlled environment of the simulators and low structures. The forest was unpredictable – uneven ground, hidden branches, the sheer dizzying height. But the Ackerman instincts hummed, eager for the challenge. My body knew how to move in three dimensions, even if my conscious mind was still catching up.
Shadis gave a terse, uninspiring speech about the dangers, emphasizing the high probability of injury or death for the unprepared, before sending us into the trees in designated squads. Naturally, I ensured I was grouped with Eren and Armin, along with Connie and Sasha who often seemed to gravitate towards Eren's chaotic energy.
The moment we launched into the trees felt like breaking the surface of water for air. The initial burst of gas, the satisfying thunk of the anchors biting into thick bark, the dizzying rush of wind – it was exhilarating and terrifying. My body reacted flawlessly, swinging through the lower branches with grace and speed that left Connie and Sasha struggling behind.
Eren, fueled by sheer passion, was a blur of motion ahead. He was fast, aggressive, sometimes reckless, pushing the gear to its limits. Armin was more cautious, his movements calculated, choosing safer trajectories but always keeping up through smart anchor placement.
My role quickly became clear: Shepherd.
I moved through the trees like a phantom, keeping pace effortlessly, my eyes constantly scanning – tracking Eren's trajectory, anticipating Armin's path, watching for hazards, and ensuring Connie and Sasha didn't impale themselves on a branch. My ODM gear felt like an extension of my own body, responding instantly to my will.
"Eren, too fast!" Armin shouted as Eren shot towards a particularly dense patch of foliage, barely correcting his angle in time to avoid a collision.
Before Armin's warning fully registered, I was already adjusting my own course, angling slightly to stay parallel with Eren, ready to intervene if needed. He navigated the dense patch with sheer nerve, emerging slightly scratched but grinning wildly.
"See? Fine!" he yelled back, exhilarated.
"You need to anticipate momentum shifts!" Armin called, ever the strategist.
"Less talking, more flying!" Eren retorted, launching himself towards a higher canopy.
I stayed close, a silent shadow. My presence seemed to have a subtle steadying effect on him now. He still pushed limits, but I noticed he glanced back slightly more often, subconsciously checking my position, perhaps finding reassurance in my constant proximity.
During a brief pause on a wide, sturdy branch to allow Connie and Sasha to catch up (Sasha looking slightly green), Eren leaned against the trunk, breathing hard but beaming. "This is incredible! Killing Titans like this... we can do it!"
"If we don't kill ourselves first," Connie panted, collapsing onto the branch.
Sasha just nodded weakly, clutching her stomach.
Armin pointed towards a clearing visible through the trees. "Shadis designated rally points. We should head towards the nearest one to report progress."
Eren nodded. "Right. Let's go!"
He launched off again, slightly more controlled this time after Armin's reminder. We followed, swinging through the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves. It was almost peaceful, this deadly dance among the giants.
Then, trouble. A rogue gust of wind, stronger than expected, caught Sasha mid-swing as she navigated between two large trunks. Her trajectory wobbled, her anchor cable went slack for a crucial second, and she began to fall, a terrified shriek tearing through the air.
Connie yelled her name. Armin gasped. Eren instinctively angled towards her, but he was too far ahead, his momentum carrying him forward.
I reacted instantly.
No thought, just pure Ackerman reflex fused with my absolute priority: protect the squad, protect Eren's friends. I fired both anchors into the trunk above Sasha, braked hard, altering my downward momentum into a controlled dive. I pushed off the trunk, using a burst of gas to intercept her freefall.
My arm snaked around her waist, pulling her tight against me just as my feet found purchase on a lower branch. The impact jarred us both, but we held firm. Sasha clung to me, trembling, eyes wide with terror.
"Got you," I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline surge. I quickly checked her gear. "Your right anchor mechanism needs adjustment. It didn't retract properly."
Down below, Eren, Armin, and Connie had landed, looking up with wide eyes. Eren looked particularly shaken, likely flashing back to other falls, other losses.
"Mikasa! Sasha! Are you okay?" Eren yelled up.
"We're fine!" I called back, helping Sasha secure her footing. "Gear malfunction. We'll fix it and catch up!"
It took a few minutes to adjust Sasha's faulty gear mechanism, my fingers working with surprising dexterity. Sasha mumbled her thanks, still shaky. By the time we rejoined the others on the ground, the adrenaline of the near-miss had worn off, replaced by a tense silence.
Eren rushed over, checking Sasha himself. "You okay? Really?"
Sasha nodded mutely.
Eren then turned to me, his turquoise eyes intense. "That was… incredible, Mikasa. Your reaction time…" He trailed off, searching for words. Gratitude, awe, and something else – that familiar flicker of confusion at my unwavering, almost supernatural competence – warred in his expression.
"Just doing my duty," I replied, keeping my expression neutral, though my heart hammered from the near-miss and his intense gaze. I glanced pointedly at Sasha's gear. "Equipment needs constant vigilance."
Armin nodded vigorously. "A good reminder for all of us."
Connie just stared at me with newfound respect. "Seriously, Mikasa, that was like something out of a story."
I simply nodded, turning away to check my own gear, giving them space. Let them process it. Another demonstration. Another proof of my capability, my reliability, my dedication to protecting them. Especially Eren. He had seen, firsthand, how quickly I would react to protect those close to him. It was another brick laid in the foundation of the bond I was meticulously building.
As we continued towards the rally point, the group dynamic felt subtly shifted again. The awe was tangible, but so was a slight unease from Connie and Sasha. Eren remained close, occasionally glancing at me with that unreadable expression. He was relying on me, yes, but he was also seeing me more clearly now. Not just as the quiet girl from Shiganshina, but as something… more.
Good, I thought, swinging silently beside him. See me. Rely on me. Just don't look too closely yet. There was still so much to do before he could understand the depth of the devotion I held, the future I was fighting to rewrite for his sake.