After the failed mission, Levi felt the weight of guilt settle heavily on his shoulders. He knew he hadn’t done enough. But he also felt something else—something he hadn’t experienced in years: a strange sense of nostalgia.

Thinking about the past won’t help me, he told himself. Crying won’t change anything.

So he worked. Hard. Harder than ever. He pushed himself to the limits in training, sweat dripping, muscles burning, mind focused. Mary, who had always been the last to leave the training room, now left with him—impossible to outlast.

Vanessa noticed. She watched him silently for weeks, admiring the determination she rarely saw in recruits. One evening, she decided to check on him.

“Levi?” she called softly, knocking on his door.

No answer.

She followed the sound of heavy breathing to the training room. There he was, collapsed on the mat, completely exhausted.

“Levi!” she said, shaking him gently. “Wake up!”

Levi groaned and sat up, blinking against the bright lights.

“I’m proud of you,” Vanessa said quietly, a rare softness in her voice. She pulled him into a brief hug, something Levi had never expected from her. “You’re working hard… keep it up.”

She guided him back to his room afterward, making sure he got rest.

The next day, Levi sat across from Mary during a break in training.

“You’ve been working really hard the past few months,” she said, studying him.

Levi shrugged, trying to hide the effort etched in his body. “I never want to let the team down again. I want to help the team… maybe even lead them one day.”

Mary’s expression softened. For the first time, she smiled at him. “I believe in you, Levi. You can be number two… right behind me.”

Levi couldn’t help but grin. Her words filled him with pride and determination.

From a distance, Jordan Jeyser, the commander, observed them silently. His sharp eyes followed Levi’s every movement, taking in his effort, his discipline, and his bond with Mary.

He muttered to himself, almost under his breath:

“So… the first-born son lives on.”