21: Replacement

Levi doesn't bother mingling like everybody else; he's making a direct beeline toward the auditorium entrance. You walk briskly behind him, scattering starry-eyed glances at the royalty around you. Some of them are looking back, but not at you. They recognize your mentor, a few itching to meet the prolific Professor Levi. Some break away from their groups and shuffle toward you like ducklings toward their mother, but their mother is too quick. Levi speeds inside the propped entry doors and abandons his fandom, only you joining him as his viceroy.

"Shit," he sighs, scanning the gigantic entry hall that's also bustling with life. "Fuck this crowd."

The entry hall boasts grandiosity through high ceilings and elegant architecture, quite superfluous for just a foyer. Two massive staircases border the room, each leading to a thick balcony that is the center of the obscured second story.

"You really hate people, don't you?" Loyally at his side, you brace for another wave of curious fans.

"People like these, absolutely."

"Oh, Professor Levi!" A new voice calls, one that's soft and pleasant on the ears. Levi seems relieved by it, and he turns to see the fine woman that shares his hair color.

"Pieck," Levi greets with a thank god you're here tone. "Finally."

"Good evening. Safe travels?" She extends a hand that he accepts, to your surprise.

"Safe, but unenjoyable. The guys at Paradis are so panicky about this convention."

The guys is clearly referring to you in disguise, irking you. You withhold a scoff.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Pieck notices you, interested in the random woman Levi has yet to reject. "And who's this?"

Levi gives your name as he watches Pieck's hand grasp yours. Without hesitation, he says your title. "She's my lapdog."

You stiffen, accidentally clenching Pieck's hand. A fast blush rushes under the skin of your cheeks as you shoot a glare at your bully. "Levi."

"I'm kidding." Levi returns your glower with deadpan disinterest, unbothered by your worry. "She's my intern. Paradis let her come along."

"That's great," Pieck praises, gracing you with a tender smile. "Believe me, you've already accomplished far more than most here just by being under his tutelage. I'm impressed."

"This is Pieck Finger," Levi introduces. "The criminology department head at Marley, and the assistant director for this convention."

"Ah." You admire Pieck mere moments after meeting her. She's an angel contrary to your mentor, a pleasant introduction to the convention. She does not intimidate like others here. "It's nice to meet you."

"You, too. I hope Levi's treating you well."

"Well enough," you answer.

"Good." She returns her attention to your mentor, lacking time for thorough pleasantries. "Levi, have you seen Erwin? I want to ask him about using the grounds of the hotel you guys are staying at."

"The hotel?" Levi questions. "What for?"

"There's nice rooftop amenities there. Zeke suggested I propose a wrap party after the convention concludes." 

"That sounds ridiculous."

"No, it doesn't." You challenge Levi purely to reject his blunt attitude. "It makes sense for these guys to want something relaxed after all this convention stuff. Some of us are stressed here, believe it or not."

"I've noticed." He makes sure you register his glare before switching back to Pieck. "I haven't seen him. Her and I came alone. He's presenting tonight, so he might be prepping for that somewhere." 

"Backstage, then. I'll meet with him soon." Pieck's scanning the crowd, already searching for her next target. "Zeke's backstage too, waiting for you and the other speakers. Coordinate with him as soon as you can, Levi."

"I will, Pieck. Have fun wrangling the cattle."

"I'll try."

She leaves you, finding another member to correspond with. Levi's eyes linger on her for longer than you're expecting, and for a moment you wonder why you noticed that at all.

"So she's tolerable, hm?" you risk commenting.

"Yeah," he answers. "One of the few here that is. I'd rather work alongside her than Zeke."

There's a mysterious irritation in your heart, one that you avoid putting a label on. "Shame she's not at Paradis then. You two could have offices next to each other."

"We could." He states this plainly, mindlessly agreeing with you at first. 

After a moment of contemplation, he suddenly comes alive, realizing the subtext of your remark. "Oh, we could," he repeats mischievously, facing you with fresh smugness in his aura. "We could work together—it'd help us exchange ideas about curriculum if our offices were so close. I'd pick her mind often about rubrics or students or anything that interests us." 

You ball your hands into fists, telling yourself you have no right to think whatever you're thinking. "Yeah, sure. Where's the stage?" You scan the area and find the entrance along the back wall then hurry away from Levi, and essentially, the conversation. 

Levi gives chase, though, refusing to let the topic die. 

"Maybe we'd get tea together after classes," he keeps daydreaming while slinking up beside you, his voice saturated with mockery. "I'd win the playful argument of who gets to pay, and I'd even buy her a few pastries as a little treat. That does sound nice." 

You try to zone out as you enter the seating area of the auditorium, passing from the massive corridor to the even larger cavern. House lights do a weak job of lighting the rows of seats preceding the stage, a stage crowned with projector screens that currently display Marley's logo. This space is emptier with just a few punctual scholars claiming preferable seats long before the ceremony begins. 

"Sure does."  You give this deadpan response before heading down the wide center aisle, Levi following like a damn leech. 

"I should extend her an offer." He skirts the stage with you and comes to an obscured door to the backstage. "While I'm at it, I ought to extend her an invitation to dinner, too." 

"Yeah, have at it." You shoot a hand to the door handle, but Levi's hand glues itself to yours. 

He doesn't let you enter quite yet, instead taking a long moment to simmer in your blooming resentment. He meticulously inspects your reaction, fascination gleaming in his pupils.

"I'm surprised," he breathes. "I wasn't expecting this at all."

"Expecting what?"

Dropping the subject, he turns the handle and pushes the door open. "You don't need to pout about it. Let's go."

"I'm not pouting," you protest uselessly as you follow, embarrassed by unexplainable exposure.

The backstage space is drenched in black paint from floor to ceiling, the shadow of the glamorous stage it supports. Towering webs of pulleys and ropes line the rear wall, controlling the tangled system of curtains. There are around a dozen faculty members back here, all presumably involved in the ceremony.

You notice Erwin busy in hushed conversation with Hange, the two having arrived long before you. They're presenting tonight, just like everyone here except for Levi.

"Come on, you have to meet Zeke," Levi warns as he guides you to his target. "Remember, he's Dr. Jaeger to you. Stay formal and polite for him."

"Um, okay."

Zeke is close to the wings of the stage, dismissing a subordinate of his before peeking out at the empty auditorium. He dresses well, but there's a shaggy air to him that you can't quite place. Perhaps it's the thick beard that blankets his cheeks and chin, or maybe the wire-rimmed glasses that bounce light off their lenses. He's tall, above Levi but beneath Erwin. He holds himself with lazy posture, the sort that conveys conceited pride through utter nonchalance. It doesn't matter what you think of him; all he needs is what he thinks of himself.

"Zeke," Levi spits out, holding nothing back from his enemy. "Come meet my intern."

When Zeke looks your way, you're reminded of that feeling of entrapment Kenny evokes. While Kenny exhibited a blatant, maniacal display of power, Zeke blends his superiority into a passive front that promises no malice. The promise may be fake and you wouldn't put it past this man to be capable of hiding plenty of dastardly secrets.

"Ah, wonderful." Zeke doesn't even attempt a handshake with Levi and instead hones in on you, extending a broad hand that lacks the slenderness and purity of Levi's. You take it, a bit startled by how firmly it secures onto you. "Happy to finally meet you."

Your eyes crawl up his arm to his face, struggling to keep eye contact. He's docile, but alarm bells are going off in your head nevertheless. "You as well, Dr. Jaeger."

He doesn't release your hand. "Didn't I tell you to call me Zeke?" His tone is still cordial, yet disappointed. "It's an old expression by now, but Dr. Jaeger truly is my father. We don't need to be calling his son the same name."

"Zeke hates his dad," Levi informs. "He can't stand hearing the name Jaeger."

You want to break away from Zeke and punch Levi right in the nose. He set you up, that prick. He knew Zeke doesn't like that title, and he insisted upon it anyways. You're being used purely to piss off Zeke, and you don't want to be Levi's weapon blindly. Even though Zeke doesn't interest you as a potential colleague or friend, you still need to be on good terms with him. Levi's doing nothing to help that effort.

"I'm sorry," you say to Zeke, genuine guilt in your voice. "Levi's insistent about being professional, and I usually just listen to him. I wasn't aware he didn't respect your choice of title."

"Whose side are you on?" Levi hisses.

"Not to worry." As if ignoring a temperamental toddler, Zeke keeps conversation solely with you. "He and I are similar in that sense—he's finicky about people calling him Mr. Ackerman."

"I'm sure he is." The Mr. points out the lack of a doctoral degree, and the Ackerman points out the connection to a criminal he detests. It makes sense.

"Would you two quit flirting?" Levi cuts in. "I didn't subject myself to looking at your filthy face just so you could swoon my intern."

"Charming as always," Zeke responds, releasing your hand. You're grateful when he does, and you feel compelled to wipe it on your pant leg. "Do you remember the itinerary, Levi? I was thinking about moving you further up in the queue, perhaps right after I welcome the crowd."

"So my speech will be the first of the evening? That's fine." Levi glances at you, noticing the color drain from your face. "And anyone that isn't presenting can go in the audience, right?"

"Yes, of course. Your intern is welcome to take a front row seat if she'd like to."

"That's all I need to know." Levi tugs on your arm, guiding you away. "Come along, intern. We need to talk before we separate."

A stuttered goodbye to Zeke is given, but your thoughts are already elsewhere. The presentation is dominating your mind again, rattling your heart.

"First," Levi begins as he releases you in a secluded corner of the backstage area. "Give me your phone. You shouldn't leave anything backstage."

"Yeah, I guess so." You withdraw your phone, your only possession, and hand it to him. "You'll give it back afterwards, right?"

"Obviously. I'm not interested in robbing you." He tucks it into his jacket, owning your form of communication. "So, I'm heading into the audience now—"

"Wait, you're not going to tell him?" Panic bleeds in your voice. "You have to tell Zeke that I'm—"

"You can tell him yourself." Levi crosses his arms, firm against your anxiety. "This is your job."

"No—no it's not. I'm here to present, but they're not going to listen to me if I say I'm presenting. You have to be the one to do it."

"I'm not going to." He's stern, locking you in an icy prison. "Either you sort this out and get on stage, or you bail and make us and Paradis look stupid. It's your choice."

"Levi." You see the scholars nearby, Zeke beyond them. You understand the threshold of your daunting responsibility, and you're finding yourself severely underprepared. So much can go wrong—why doesn't Levi see that? Why is he throwing you into this gladiator pit with no doubt that you'll be successful? "You have to help me. You need to keep helping me."

"I'm going to the audience now." He turns his back on you, slicing a gash into your chest.

"You can't." With terror in your muscles, you snatch his wrist with both hands to anchor him down. "Don't leave me right now. Don't make me do this by myself."

He looks back at his captured hand, processing the extent of your swelling emotions. He's fascinated by it, quite amused by your desperation for him. "Listen," he murmurs as he yanks his hand free. "I can't hold your hand forever. You are going to do this on your own, no matter what."

You go dead quiet when his palm rests on your head, too stunned to panic.

"Did you forget everything we said in the cab? You're my intern, and I know my intern isn't pathetic. Prove that to both of us by letting me go to the audience."

"But," you whisper, sheer fright in your voice. "What if they turn me down? What if everything gets fucked up?"

"You're not scared of Zeke. Don't let him win against you." He detaches, taking careful steps away lest he provokes you to chase him down. "This auditorium is yours tonight. Do us both justice and give them your best."

You feel paralyzed as he exits, lost without your mentor's support. He has been with you for this entire journey, and now that he's absent you realize how much his power had strengthened you. It's miserable without him.

"Levi?" From nowhere, Erwin materializes as he notices the door close. "Where's Levi going?" he asks to you.

He's going to claim a spot in the audience, that's where. He's now a spectator while you are the new performer.

You don't tell this to Erwin, though. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Smith. I need to talk to Zeke first." At least, once Zeke approves, then you can explain to Erwin.

Passing under him, you start making your way back to Zeke with less vigor, even meeker than before. You have to look confident right now, you have to embody the glory of being Levi's intern. This is not the time to be scared.

"Zeke."

"Yes?" He hasn't moved, simply occupied with checking his phone.

"I need to talk to you about something."

He glances up, and with a curious gleam in his eye, he pockets the device and scratches his ear. "You know, I'm sure there are plenty of help centers in your city if you need to escape a dangerous relationship with your mentor. I'm not quite the person for that."

"What? No. Nothing like that. It's about the ceremony tonight."

"Oh?" He braces his back against a support pillar and clasps his hands. Noticing Levi is no longer with you only fuels his intrigue. "Go on."

It's the moment of truth. You're about to either screw over Paradis and Levi or earn Zeke's consent to go on stage.

"Look, I don't know how to say this, but Levi kind of opted out of doing the presentation." You can't help fidgeting with your fingernails, no matter how much you try to appear confident. "He decided against it a while ago, and he asked me to replace him."

You want to add more, to explain something that doesn't need explaining, but Zeke's already responding.

"Is that so? Does Paradis know about this?"

"Well, not—"

"Hey, Erwin!" Zeke calls. "Come here a moment."

You almost crack a fingernail, dread bolting through your nerves. One look is enough to notice Erwin approaching, and you snap back to Zeke with wide eyes.

"Wait, Zeke. Is it okay with you? Dr. Smith doesn't know yet." You're unfortunately frantic when you reveal this, your self-assurance deteriorating.

"What don't I know?" Erwin asks, coming beside you and Zeke. You catch his eyes for less than a second, fearful of his presence. Even looking at Zeke doesn't soothe you, and you're stuck staring at the gap in the stage wings instead.

"This little intern here said she's replacing Levi on stage tonight."

Your blood runs cold, terrified and ashamed under Zeke's words. This is just about the worst possible outcome; even lightning striking you dead would be preferable.

"Did Levi run that by anyone at Paradis?" Zeke asks.

Erwin's quiet for a long fucking time. You can't see his reaction, not with the way you're pretending to look for someone in the audience. Just meet his eyes, you tell yourself, but the terror in your mind disables any ability to do so.

"Not that I'm aware of," Erwin rumbles. "How long has this been in the works?"

You swallow a lump down. "About two weeks," you mumble, shifting your eyes to your own hands. Come on, get some confidence! Be the amazing and unbeatable Levi's intern that you are! It's hard to follow these directives.

"He only gave you two weeks to prepare?" Zeke looks to the wings, wondering if he can see Levi in the audience. "That's cruel."

"Well, she did research and write the speech for him," Erwin informs. "The fact that he wants her to present, though; that was beyond my knowledge."

Zeke hums as he adjusts his glasses, reveling in this tale of mentor and intern. "You seem to have landed yourself a lazy department head, Erwin."

"I said that too," you cut in, challenging yourself to look at Zeke for longer than one second. "I told him he was just outsourcing work he didn't want to do."

"Yes? And what'd he say to that?"

"That...he wanted me to present my own work. That—um, I deserve the stage. Something like that."

Zeke chuckles, a dry smile buried under his beard. "Are you sure you weren't just dreaming?"

"I wasn't," you mutter through clenched teeth.

"Nevertheless," Erwin says. "He neglected to inform Paradis and Marley of this. You, too—you had two weeks to let somebody know, and you didn't."

The policeman is back. You're starting to understand Levi's viewpoint towards Erwin, realizing that this professor more or less enforces his version of the law by scolding those that step out of line. Levi's been the defendant many times, and now you've become the latest suspect of misbehavior.

"I know." You're still fishing for confidence, a painful effort but a barely successful one. "I'm sorry—for both him and myself—that we kept it a secret. He didn't think it would work otherwise."

"It wouldn't—he was right about that. Now you've given us mere minutes to find a solution, allowing us no time to think. Levi knew what he was doing." Erwin's a tactician, unraveling Levi's scheme and cursing the malicious brilliance of it. You, Levi's henchman, are prepared to offer him the necessary answer, even if it's provided with no certitude whatsoever.

"It's not a big deal." You square your shoulders even as you still feel your heart pound in your ears. "I already know what I'm presenting. You don't need to change the teleprompters or anything—I can just go on stage."

"As much as I hate to admit it, Levi's coveted," Zeke points out. "And, to be honest, nobody knows his intern."

Channeling Levi, you drop relaxed hands to your sides and gaze firmly at Zeke. "Then they can get to know me when I go out there."

You hate the looks the blonds exchange, lamenting the power of their telepathic communication. Erwin realizes something new about you, and he decides to remove accusation from his tone.

"You really have become his protégé."

There's an urge to deny it and promise him that you're still a good, polite scholar, but there is also the overwhelming understanding that you are Levi's infected, indoctrinated intern.

"Yeah. I have." Your voice mixes despondency and pride, abandoning one personality and taking up the reins of another. "That'll happen when I'm under him for a while."

"It will," he admits, witnessing the result of his decision to transfer you.

"Anyways, the ceremony is starting soon," Zeke reminds. "I ought to be asking your dean about this, but for now I'll just ask you, Erwin: What's your opinion?"

Erwin sighs, a rather gloomy expression coming from such a deity. He looks over the intern that's worming her way into the convention, and he ponders what power Levi has that he lacks, to transform her into this delinquent. He allows Levi to slip under the radar, overlooking everything from unsuitable attitudes to blatant crime to keep the prized professor around. Now, yet again, he has discovered another gem among humanity that he must either protect or persecute.

He decides to gamble, and he rolls the dice.

"Are you certain of what you're doing?" he asks.

"Yes, Dr. Smith." You elect to ignore the hours of panic that have led up to this moment, deciding to exhibit nothing but assurance.

"Zeke? This is the introduction for a convention on your grounds; are you comfortable with a reversed script to start it off?"

Zeke's shoulders bounce in a lazy shrug. "It'll affect Paradis more than Marley, frankly. Besides, it's quite in your guys' nature to stray from the norm. I think it's on brand to make no sense."

"I assume that's a compliment," Erwin replies halfheartedly.

"I won't let Paradis down." You make this promise to Erwin, desperate to stand proud as Paradis' representative. "I love the university—the last thing I'd want to do is ruin its image."

"I'm certain of that, and I'm certain of your ability." Erwin, having committed to supporting you, now moves from the if to the how. "This is a massive step for you, still. Are you braced for the stage?"

"Yeah. I'm sure of myself, and Levi wouldn't let me do this if he wasn't sure. I can do it." Saying it aloud makes it come true, somewhat.

"Very well." Erwin rests a hand on your shoulder. "I trust you, and I expect good results. You've come a long way."

"Thank you," you breathe. "I'll do my best."

"Good luck, intern." Zeke checks his phone again, then cranes his head to the stage wings. "You'll either do Paradis justice or embarrass them. We'll see how it turns out."

You nod, following Zeke's gaze. "Yeah, we will."