[Levi Ackerman]

Levi’s gaze shifted from the advanced gauntlet to the violet-haired commander’s eyes. He stayed in that low, guarded crouch for a long second, his blades finally clicking back into their sheaths with a sharp, mechanical hiss. He didn’t like the term “asset,” and he liked being “saved” even less, but he wasn’t a fool. The sky was wrong, the monsters were wrong, and he was currently standing in a graveyard of a world he didn’t understand.

With a visible ripple of reluctance, he reached out. His calloused, bare hand looked stark against her high-tech armor as he gripped her forearm.

**”Levi,”** he said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. He didn’t offer a surname or an origin. He didn’t offer a thank you. He simply let her pull him to his feet, immediately checking the tension on his ODM wires once he was upright.

Rika didn’t press for more. She simply nodded, a sharp, professional gesture that acknowledged his caution. **”Levi. Short and to the point. I can work with that.”**

She turned on her heel, her long purple hair catching the eerie light of the Borderlands as she gestured for her squad to move out. **”Double time! We’re heading to the Tower of Extraction. The chopper won’t wait for a second ripple.”**

Levi fell into step behind her, his eyes darting between the silent, armored soldiers and the jagged horizon. He walked with the silent, predatory grace of a man who expected a trap at every turn, his hand never straying far from his blades as they trekked toward the looming silhouette of the tower in the distance. He was entering a new world, but the rules of survival remained the same: watch your back, and never trust a smile.

**End of RP**

[Levi Ackerman]

Levi didn’t “stay down.” The concept was foreign to him.

He felt the temperature drop, a biological warning system honed by years of surviving Titans. As the shadow loomed, he was already pivoting on his heel, his blades held in a reverse grip. But before he could launch his counter-attack, a streak of violet and black blurred across his vision.

The woman moved with a speed that rivaled a Shifter, her energy blade humming with a frequency that set his teeth on edge. He skidded back, his boots digging into the wasteland soil, watching as she intercepted the Void-Stalker.

“Tch. Big mouth for a brat,” Levi rasped, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t lower his blades. He didn’t know if she was an ally or just another predator clearing out the competition.

He watched her tactical squad fan out with practiced precision. Their gear was silent, efficient, and completely alien. No steam, no clanking gears, no smell of burnt gas. Just a clinical, high-tech lethality that made his Survey Corps equipment look like children’s toys.

“I don’t know who you are or what kind of hellscape this is,” he called out over the roar of the energy clash, his voice steady despite the adrenaline. “But if you’re going to jump in front of my target, try not to get in my way. I’ve had a long day, and I’m not in the mood for collateral damage.”

As he swung for the creature’s flank, expecting the predictable mass of a Titan, the Void-Stalker’s geometry shifted. It didn’t just move; it blurred. A massive, obsidian limb—slick with a substance that seemed to absorb the light around it—lashed out with the speed of a whip.

Levi saw it coming. He crossed his blades in a defensive block, a reflex that had saved his life a thousand times. But the force wasn’t just physical; it was a concussive wave of cold energy. The steel didn’t break, but his boots lost their purchase on the unstable wasteland soil.

“Tch—!”

The impact was dull and heavy. He hit the ground flat on his back, the air driven from his lungs in a sharp wheeze. For a second, the eerie violet sky of the Skyrieverse spun above him. His ears rang, and the familiar weight of his gear felt suddenly, dangerously heavy against the dirt.

He didn’t black out. His eyes remained wide, tracking the threat even as he struggled to pull oxygen back into his chest.

From his vantage point on the ground, he saw her.

Rika didn’t look back. She didn’t offer a hand or a snide comment. She simply moved. Her tactical gear hissed as she bridged the gap in a single, explosive stride. The energy blade in her hand flared with a blinding, cyan light that cut through the gloom of the forest. With a fluid, practiced rotation, she drove the humming edge through the core of the Stalker.

The creature didn’t scream. It simply dissolved, its shadow-flesh unraveling into dark mist that evaporated before it could touch the ground.

Levi stayed still for a moment, his fingers twitching against the triggers of his blades. He watched the way she stood—the set of her shoulders, the way she didn’t even breathe heavily after the kill. She was a professional. He recognized the silhouette of a soldier who had seen too much and felt even less.

He groaned softly, rolling onto his side to push himself up, his eyes never leaving the purple-haired warrior. He was battered, covered in the strange dust of this world, but he was alive. And for the first time since the wormhole took him, the confusion was being replaced by a very sharp, very dangerous curiosity.

[Levi Ackerman]

**New RP**

The air in the Borderlands didn’t smell like the damp earth of the Forest of Giant Trees or the metallic tang of Marleyan artillery. It smelled of ozone, scorched sand, and something disturbingly sweet.

Levi Ackerman’s eyes snapped open. The last thing he remembered was the blinding flash of the Thunder Spear—the heat, the roar of Zeke’s desperate scream, and the certain knowledge that he was about to be torn apart. But there was no pain. Instead of the cold embrace of death, he felt the grit of a wasteland beneath his palms.

He stood up slowly, his boots crunching on the unfamiliar soil. He performed a quick mental and physical inventory: fingers, toes, limbs—all intact. Even his ODM gear, which should have been scrap metal, sat heavy and functional on his hips.

“Tch. Always something,” he muttered, his voice raspy. He didn’t have time to ponder the physics of his survival. A thunderous boom echoed from the east, and a colossal, mushrooming cloud of neon pink smoke stained the horizon. It was garish, offensive to his senses, and definitely not natural.

Then, he felt it. The rhythmic vibration through the soles of his boots.

The Stampede of the Unknown

It wasn’t the heavy, lumbering gait of a Titan. This was faster—sharper. From the haze of the wasteland, a horizon of shapes emerged. They were creatures that defied the logic of the walls; iridescent scales, multiple limbs, and eyes that glowed with a frantic, primal terror. They weren’t hunting; they were fleeing the explosion, and Levi was directly in their path.

Levi didn’t hesitate. He didn’t have the luxury of fear. He checked his gas canisters—full—and drew his blades. The steel hissed as it slid from the scabbards.

“Out of the frying pan,” he breathed, his expression settling into that familiar, deadly mask of stoicism.

As the first wave of beasts reached him, Levi fired a grapple into the trunk of a nearby “eerie tree.” The wire sang, retracting with a mechanical whine that felt like home. He launched himself into the air, spinning through the center of the herd. With the precision of a surgeon, he sliced through the hide of a multi-legged predator that tried to snap at his midsection, using its momentum to propel himself higher.

An Impossible Shadow

He landed gracefully on a gnarled branch, looking back at the chaos. He had handled the scouts of the herd, but the earth began to groan under a much heavier weight. Something was trailing the stampede—something massive enough to rival a Shifter, but with an energy that felt jagged and wrong.

Levi braced himself, his fingers hooking into the triggers of his gear. He was exhausted, his mind was screaming for answers about where “here” was, and he was outnumbered in a world that didn’t follow his rules.

But as he narrowed his eyes at the approaching behemoth, he caught a glimmer of something else on the periphery. Metal. Movement. The distinct silhouette of a squad that didn’t belong to the Survey Corps, but moved with a discipline he recognized.

Safety was coming, though in the Borderlands, “safety” was a relative term. Levi didn’t care who they were yet. If they could bleed, he could work with them. If they couldn’t, he’d find a way to cut them anyway.

“Come on then,” he whispered to the approaching shadow, his blades leveled. “Let’s see what this world is made of.”

[Levi Ackerman]

Hello! My name is Levi Ackerman, pleased to meet you. Looking forward to meeting the clan and have fun role playing. Oh and one more thing, please don’t count on me for just cleaning. Lol