Chapter Text
Magic has been legal for nearly two decades. Magical reagents and components can be purchased only at specially licensed dispensaries. Only tier approved mages may perform magic after years of training. Those who choose to operate outside the law will be prosecuted.
This is probably the moment where the Law & Order bong-bong noise would happen.
Ah hell with it.
DUN DUN.
<*>
“The armored vehicle comes every Thursday for pick up, so we need to be there Wednesday afternoon, when the pot is largest,” Armin said chewing on his lip.
“We really going to hit a place in the middle of the day?” Jean complained.
Jean always had an opinion on everything. Eren had several opinions but none he could voice so long as his sister’s tongue was down Jean’s throat.
“That’s when it’s deadest,” Armin nodded. “At night they have sigils everywhere.”
“Yeah, but I’m just sayin’. We go in at night, I zzzt the power transformer for the block and then we have the advantage.”
“Darkness doesn’t knock out sigils,” Mikasa said, looking at the crude map Armin had drawn.
“Boom! Power goes out,” Jean continued. “Eren goes in and does his cat-eye, see-in-the-dark nonsense, grabs the cash, grabs the goods, then we bounce.”
“The most expensive items are in sealed safes,” Annie said calmly, finally voicing her opinion. “We need the employees to get into the safes and we need Armin to get to the employees. He can’t see in the dark. Can you?”
Jean was one of those self-taught latchkey mages, as Eren called them. Bored kids who had nothing to do but play around with household items instead of real reagents and just happened to get lucky casting spells. Jean was good, Eren begrudgingly acknowledged that. He could manipulate power currents. Often he used his ability to shock Eren in the ribs, then pretend it was only static electricity. It grew especially annoying when the TV and lights would flicker every time Jean and Mikasa shacked up in the hotel room next door to Eren’s. Eren wanted to watch Jersey Shore just once without banging on the wall asking them to cut it out. Jean was also the newest to Eren’s crew, but Mikasa vouched for him.
Next was Annie. Her spells were small but succinct. She didn’t waste time being flashy like Jean. She was the getaway driver. She hadn’t been with them longer than 6 months but Eren found her dependable. He didn’t ask her questions unless they pertained to the heist and she didn’t offer any details about her past. Eren could relate.
Armin was their glamour man. That didn’t mean the long haired, soft spoken blond man was particularly glamorous, quite the opposite really. But he came up with the plans. He plotted escape routes, he took meticulous notes while casing the joint. Without him, their operation would never have gotten off the ground. Eren had been with him since childhood and trusted him with his life.
Then there was Mikasa, his sister. Flame specialist. Jean called her his ‘little cherry bomb,’ which she accepted with a blink of her expressionless dark eyes as Eren retched. She was Eren’s second when they got in there. She was the muscle. She could cast a propulsion charm around her right fist, knock someone into a wall then take them out with a well-placed fireball from the left. And she had. Several times. Mostly to Eren during practice.
Being an unlicensed mage had its drawbacks. For one they were always hunted by the MPs. For two, they had to practice in secret. Eren and Mikasa had grown up in a household where self-exploration in the magical arts was not only encouraged, but expected. They didn’t tell that to Jean or Annie though. They pretended to be novices rather than classically trained. And when it came to Eren’s “special” abilities, only Mikasa and Armin knew those circles he pretended to cast were fake.
“How long?” Eren asked Armin.
“Twenty minutes.”
This was the part Eren hated. The wait before the heist. Eren was ever vigilant, but antsy.
“Someone’s coming,” Annie sensed and Eren knew someone had tripped the sentry sigils they’d placed along the block.
Annie tensed, fingers curling on the wheel, as a man came around the corner. On his face were dark round glasses and a scowling expression. In front of him was a walking cane he swung forward, tap right, tap left, sweeping for any obstruction, his other hand in his pocket.
“He’s heading for the dispensary,” Annie noted, craning her neck. “I don’t like this.”
“The blind man comes by every day at 1:30,” Armin reassured her.
“That’s one more person in there you have to account for. Can you even glamour a blind man?”
“He goes to the back room and just sits there with some tea,” Eren said. “Then he leaves. Jean is putting up a sound curtain. The guy won’t even know we’re there.”
“I still don’t like it,” Annie said frowning.
Annie was cautious. She told Eren from the beginning if something felt off, she would walk. One time she did and they were glad for it, because at that same time two potion-fiends, high out of their goddamn minds decided to rob the place before them. They could have been caught up in that.
“We only get this window,” Armin reminded them. “If we back out now, we’ll have to wait another week.”
“What do you say, Annie?” Eren asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded, thinking. “Let’s do it.”
That was it.
“Welcome to the Jungle,” Eren called.
“We’ve got fun and games,” Armin and Mikasa answered, cleaning off equipment.
This call and answer went on for some time (much to Jean’s annoyance) as they pumped themselves up, pulling kerchiefs with skulls up over the lower half of their faces. Eren opened the trunk and pulled out the glamoured weapons. Armin and Eren had painstakingly handcrafted them over the past few days, making them look as real as possible. If things went wrong and they happened to leave one of the weapons behind, they could kill the spell, erasing any fingerprints.
“When can we get real guns?” Jean complained.
“We don’t want to kill people, Jean,” Eren reminded him.
“I know that,” Jean said hotly. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, just scare ‘em. What if they can tell these are fake?”
“They won’t,” Armin said quietly. “People see what they want to see. That’s how it works.”
Mikasa picked hers up and aimed it a Jean’s head and he instinctively jerked out of the line of sight. Mikasa snorted, having proved her point.
“If they somehow can tell the guns are glamoured, then you can zappy zap,” Eren said rolling his eyes. “Sound curtain up? Good. Welcome to the jungle!”
“We’ve got fun and games!” Jean mumbled along with the rest of them.
Annie squealed to a halt in front of the dispensary, pulling up on the curb. Eren stepped out of the backseat driver’s side, taking point. Mikasa followed, kicking open the passenger side and sliding across the hood to flank him.
Eren pointed at the cameras and Jean aimed the fake gun at each one, snapping his fingers behind his back and shorting the feed. Eren got to the locked door and Mikasa melted off the hinges. Stepping over the threshold, Eren aimed his weapon at the ceiling and fired. There was no sound, and yet the employees heard it and ducked.
“This is a holdup!” Eren bellowed. “Nobody move!”
The security officer aimed his weapon and Mikasa kicked it out of his hands. A quick zap to the nerves at the base of his neck from Jean and the security guard went limp.
“Now who has got keys to the vault?” Eren asked, aiming the barrel at the nearest employee.
The frightened man slowly looked to his right and pointed.
“Goddamnit Fleegel,” the older man sighed.
Eren turned to him and as he did Fleegel’s hand moved slowly under the countertop for the panic button.
Armin stepped forward, catching his gaze.
“You don’t want to do that,” Armin instructed, staring deep into Fleegel’s eyes.
“I…don’t?” Fleegle asked, his hand frozen.
“No, you don’t,” Armin insisted.
“Okay,” Fleegel nodded, his eyes glassy.
“You want to take a nap,” Armin informed him.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Fleegel nodded, curling up on the floor.
“And when you wake up, you won’t remember any of this,” Armin continued, his voice dripping with honey.
“Night,” Fleegel curled up in a ball.
“Keys,” Eren held out his hand.
“Even with the keys, you won’t be able to bypass the wards. Only I can unlock them—and it won’t unlock if I’m under duress,” the owner looked very pleased with himself.
“That’s why you’re going to open it for us,” Armin said, turning his large blue eyes to the man.
“No,” said the man, fighting the spell. “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” Armin insisted, pushing harder.
“No. I’m not,” the man said through grit teeth and he closed his eyes to keep Armin from prying.
“Dimo, can I call you Dimo?” Eren asked, reading the fat man’s nametag. “You like ribs Dimo?”
Eren indicated the man’s lunch.
“You have any idea what burning human flesh smells like, Dimo?” Eren asked lowly and the man opened one eye in panic.
Mikasa lit the entire counter up in flames and Dimo yelped.
“You are going to open up the vault,” Armin repeated forcefully.
Dimo struggled so Eren held his head, forcing him to look into Armin’s eyes. Dimo’s face relaxed and he nodded.
“Good man,” Eren praised and Dimo’s face lit up like a little kid’s.
“I did…good?”
“Yeah, yah did, buddy!” Eren clapped him on the back. “Alright I’m taking him back to the pen. You guys load up.”
All dispensaries had a security pen—a magic-proof iron gated antechamber before the really expensive goods. Only the owner of the store could open it—the only other way to get in was brute force but it would take you well over an hour to saw through the grate. The first gate had to be locked before the second was opened. The wards were designed to pick up a heartbeat and see if anything was out of the ordinary should the manager have a gun to his head, but Armin’s little spell had taken care of that. Eren would go in with the manager, bypass the two gates, load up the goods, then take him to the vaults. Eren hated the pen, he hated feeling trapped, but there was little choice in the matter. Inside the pen only a bright fluorescent light shone down on them. The blind man was seated on a quilted bench, one ankle placed over his knee, his cane laid along the flat line of his calf. He took a sip of tea and set it back in its saucer, his fingers curled over the edge. Eren walked past him on tiptoe, nudging the glamoured gun between Dimo’s shoulder blades.
Those who had prescriptions or were casual potion users could come in and drink. Several plush dispensaries boasted revitalization teas (which Eren found was often watered down gingerroot, not magical and certainly not worth the hefty price). The last one they’d robbed had several plush pillows and tables. Certain reagents weren’t allowed past the pen and it looked as if this paltry bench and chipped chinaware was the extent of the Reeves’ hospitality. Eren stood in front of the blind man while Dimo used the keys to open the next door. Dimo dropped the keys and Eren looked to the blind man, but the sound curtain held. Eren stepped in front of him and waved a hand. The blind man continued looking ahead at someplace behind Eren, his eyes hidden from view by his dark circular glasses. Dimo opened the door and latched it. Eren waited for him to open the vaults.
Most potion fiends or others who tried to knock off dispensaries went straight for the red bottles—strong, euphoria inducing potions that also increased muscle strength. In small, diluted amounts—say a drop in a cup of tea—they were helpful for the chronically ill. In large amounts they were dangerous with long lasting effects. Also, for the past year and a half they’d had a tracking spell on them that could be activated if stolen. Eren and company weren’t that stupid. He instead grabbed the items Annie had written down for him. The smaller products that were easier to carry and sold for a fortune. They never met their fence, but the last time Annie met with him, they raked in a pretty profit.
Eren grabbed the goods, careful to look for trip bottles—bottles that the employees knew to avoid, but most thieves didn’t. Annie had taught him that, saving him from being frozen in place while MPs carted him off to jail. Every time he had to wait for Dimo to open a vault, he looked back over his shoulder at the blind man sitting passively in the pen. Eren loaded up and then reentered the pen with Dimo, nerves jittery.
There was a loud shout and from his vantage Eren saw Jean blasted against a wall. Armin let out a wail, a spell to confuse the room that failed to land as his face was pressed against the floor. Mikasa lit her fists on fire and struck at the MP nearest her. Then what looked like a blob of black oil struck her in the chest. She tried to pull it off, but it wrapped itself around her knuckles, extinguishing the flames. It continued spreading, engulfing her whole body.
“Mikasa!” Eren screamed.
“Eren! RUN!” she shouted before it swallowed her whole.
The tall MP turned his black helmeted head to Eren as the rest took care of Jean and Armin. Eren went for the panic button to the front gate of the pen. The MP saw him and before the iron gate to the front slammed down, he aimed a small dart and shot it with a snap of his fingers. Eren dodged it. He considered himself lucky, until he realized the real target had been Dimo, who was passed out on the floor. Eren was trapped.
“Fuck,” Eren gasped. “Fuck!”
He paced.
“Uh oh,” the blind man said quietly, tapping his finger against his cup. “MPs have your little gang and you’re trapped in here. What are you going to do?”
Eren paced, tearing at his hair.
“Caught like a rat in a trap,” the man drawled, setting his empty cup aside. “When they break through that gate—and I assure you they will—they’ll arrest you. This is the fifth—sixth?—little shop you and your gang have held up. You’ll be branded as illegal practitioners, barred from magic. So what are you going to do?”
Eren lit his hand up in flame. His flames weren’t quite as hot or as powerful as Mikasa’s but maybe if he concentrated them he could burn a hole wide enough to fit through.
“Tch,” the man tsked Eren.
Eren’s flames struck the gate, leaving them singed and glowing, but in less than a second, the grated metal absorbed the heat, leaving the diamond shaped pattern very much intact.
There was a loud pounding sound on the other side and Eren hastily conjured a bolt of energy. Taking aim, he picked the weakest joint of the gate and fired.
“Don’t—“ the man shouted.
The spell ricocheted off the gate and broke into several beams, each one ricocheting and splitting into smaller particles. The man stomped his cane and summoned each of the projectiles to him before dissipating the mess.
“The gate is immune to spells. What are you stupid? Trying to get us all killed?” the man snapped.
Eren rolled his shoulders and shook them out. He placed his hand against the controls and tried to sense the current like Jean had shown him. Nothing.
No magic, eh?
Eren lined his fist up against the gate and struck.
The man let out another, “tch” clearly unimpressed with this plan.
Eren pulled his fist back again and struck. His knuckles were red. He struck again.
“You’re going to break your hand before you get through,” the man said in a bored voice.
Eren looked over his shoulder briefly before he struck. The metal lining the door was warped! Eren grinned in victory and struck repeatedly, then when there was enough of a gap for him to grip, he pulled on the metal, bending it backwards.
“Oh? Not bad,” the man said softly, standing and smoothing his front.
Eren dodged just before he felt the man lash out, his cane striking at the air where Eren had been. Eren reached up to grab the grated ceiling and launched over the shorter man and when he landed he lit up one fist in flames and the other in ice.
His opponent tapped his cane against the floor and it crackled to life, glowing with energy. Shit, an MP’s baton. Except this particular model was a modified version, Eren saw, as the man separated the cane into two parts dropping both down to his sides.
They waited, sizing each other up, the man stepping to the side, presenting a smaller target. Eren threw ice at his feet and he leapt, kicking off of the wall and bringing both batons down on Eren. Eren blocked with his frozen hand, the impact sending shards of ice everywhere. Eren swiped with the flames and the man jumped back, ducking low and sweeping Eren’s feet out from under him. The lit batons were in front of Eren’s nose.
“Yield.”
Eren considered it for about a half second before he knocked the baton aside and leapt to his feet, but the man was too fast and struck at Eren’s Achilles heel, bringing him down on one knee. Eren felt one baton under his chin, the man holding the other flat along the back of his arm.
“You felt one of these before?” the MP asked. “I don’t want to use it but I will if I have to.”
Eren hadn’t but he’d seen them used. Men writhing, curling up into a ball to stop the pain, purple and green sparks dancing along their bodies. Eren’s lip twitched into a snarl at the one in front of him and he struck out. The man brought it down on Eren’s spine and Eren saw stars. He screamed. He screamed and then he got back up. Struggling to his feet, he put his fists up in a boxer’s stance.
“I’ve warned you, but you didn’t listen. Now I’ve found pain is the best discipline, so I’m telling you: Yield.”
Eren didn’t even realize he had the claws out until one sliced through the tie the man was wearing, the little scrap of fabric twisting and dancing in the air as it fell.
“What?” the man asked in shock.
He almost had no time to react as Eren swiped at him with a large powerful tail, knocking his glasses off of his face. And then Eren saw.
“You’ve been in the Void,” Eren breathed, the man crossed his batons in a defensive maneuver.
He could recognize the telltale signs from Armin’s books—pale grey, almost bleached looking eyes, red rimmed, with dark crescent moons under the bottom lid.
The man tripped backwards, taking advantage of Eren’s distraction, and then drove both batons into Eren’s belly. He screamed and then collapsed, sparks leaping across his body and then stilling, leaving the faint stench of singeing flesh in the air.
The MPs finally broke open the doors a good ten minutes later. Erwin took one look at the man on the ground, a large hole in his shirt, checked the pulse of the shop owner and then stepped over both unconscious men to find Levi admiring the hole in the grate.
“He almost made it out of the pen,” Levi commented, sensing Erwin’s presence.
“Impressive,” said Erwin, removing his helmet.
Levi nodded, but his sharp eyes kept running along the edge of the metal. Every time a person cast a spell, they spent energy. Imagine blowing out a candle leaving only the tail of smoke. Levi could look at a vapor trail or where magic was last used and determine what kind of spell, what level of power, and trace it back to the mage that cast it. But he saw no trail. What kind of magic left no trace?
<*>
Interrogation Room 1.
“So you see officer,” Armin continued, slightly breathless. “It wasn’t really our fault. We’re just a bunch of kids who got caught up in a bad situation. In the wrong place at the wrong time. What do you say? Think you can let us off the hook this time?”
Armin summoned all of his energy and cast his large blue eyes on the Commander. Erwin snorted and leaned forward, casting a dark shadow over the smaller man.
“Did you just try to glamour a Survey Corps officer?” Erwin asked incredulously.
“I—no?” Armin said, blinking rapidly.
“Because that is a felony and has a minimum sentence of three years.”
Armin gulped.
<*>
Interrogation Room 2.
Mikasa and Mike Zacarius were in a silent standoff. Both had their arms folded across their chests, Mikasa glaring at the large man. She couldn’t tell if he was glaring back because his shaggy hair fell in front of his eyes. He reached into his breast pocket and Mikasa’s eyes narrowed as he removed a small bag of sunflower seeds. He split the shells open one by one, and popped them in his mouth, leaving a small mess on the table. Mikasa glowered.
<*>
Interrogation Room 3.
“You can’t get me to talk. Go ahead. Light me up! The only singing you’ll hear is from your grandmother’s canary because I’m no rat. I want a lawyer. DO YOU HEAR ME? I want MY LAWYER,” Jean shouted banging his fists on the table.
“That’s fine,” Levi said in a bored voice.
Jean eyed him suspiciously.
“Your partners have already given you up,” Levi said tiredly, rubbing at his terrifying grey eyes.
“That’s bullshit!” Jean shouted.
Levi shrugged.
“They said you were pretty useless on heists,” Levi said, inspecting the file in front of him.
“Who said that? Did Eren say that?” Jean asked leaning forward.
Levi pretended to yawn to cover his smirk.
<*>
Interrogation Room 4.
“So we took your prints but none of the ones we took were usable,” Hanji said.
Eren snorted.
“All eight sets,” Hanji continued. “Any idea how that happened?”
Eren shrugged.
“But we did pull prints from your friends. The girl you were with, Mikasa Jaeger. She’s your sister, right? Which makes you Eren Jaeger. Disappeared from your foster home at age 16, three years ago, which you makes 19, right?”
Eren scowled.
<*>
Interrogation Room 3.
“So wait,” said Levi. “You walk in and the lamp is gone.”
“Yes! And there’s just a chicken strutting across the room. And Armin is like, ‘Don’t look at me!’”
“And where’s Eren?”
“He’s in the bathtub—get this—eating a bucket of fried chicken.”
“No!” Levi wheezed.
“Yes!” Jean said, slapping his hand on the table.
“So Jean, whose idea was it to start pulling jobs on dispensaries?”
“Go fuck yourself!” Jean laughed.
<*>
Interrogation Room 4.
“So tell me about your parents.”
“Welcome to the jungle! We’ve got fun and games!” Eren sang.
“What about your foster parents?”
Eren continued humming, pretending to wail on guitar.
“What can you tell me about this woman?” Hanji asked, sliding forward a photo of Annie.
Eren busted out an impressive drum solo with Hanji’s pens.
<*>
Interrogation Room 3.
“I gotta tell you, I think this Eren guy is no good for you and Mikasa,” Levi said, motioning to Jean.
“Yeah, no shit.”
“Between me and you, I don’t know why you’re sticking up for him. I mean, once you’re behind bars, do you think Mikasa is going to wait for you? No, she’s going to move onto the next schmuck, which let’s be honest, will probably be Eren.”
Jean gaped.
“Holy fuck, you really don’t know anything do you? Eren is Mikasa’s brother.”
There was a tap at the door.
“Sir,” said Moblit. “We just got fingerprints back for three of the four suspects in custody.”
“Thanks. Really. I could have used this five minutes ago, but thanks,” Levi said snappishly taking the file from him.
Jean broke out into a titter.
<*>
Interrogation Room 4
“And then you gotta bring it down, give it your all for the crowd. Oh! Sweet child of mine! Sing it Hanji!” Eren pointed.
“Are you, or have you ever been an affiliate of a group called the Titans?” Hanji asked, chin in their right hand.
“Now throw it to the back, get the bass in there! Oh! Sweet child of mine!” Eren sang.
<*>
Interrogation Room 3.
“And like Eren never shared his craft. Like who does that?”
“You know you’re saying that you hate him, but I think you might have a crush on him,” Levi said, bored now, chin in his left hand.
“Like, we share everything? We share soap, we share our cut—“
Levi leaned forward.
“Of pizza.”
He slumped backwards, putting a hand to his temple and closing his eyes.
“And like, he does this weird transformation spell, that is super complicated, and he won’t even share the basics with me? Says, he doesn’t know how he does it. Bullshit. I showed him how to do The Zapper. I call it ‘The Zapper.’ Nice huh? But he can’t get the hang of it. So all of this, ‘experimental magic’ stuff is bullshit. His circles are not that good. I tried to mimic his for the transformation thing and that’s how we got Belle the chicken.”
“What transformation thing?” Levi said, something stirring in his brain.
“Like he can go all claws or tail or whatever. I’ve seen him with like cat-eyes before.”
“What kind of spell does he use? Transmutation?”
“See that’s the thing! He says it’s complicated, but his circles aren’t. It’s almost like he doesn’t—“
“—even need them,” Levi finished, thinking of the hole in the grate. No magical trace.
“Yeah,” Jean nodded.
“Like a Shifter,” Levi prompted.
Jean snorted.
“Pfft, no. I mean, Mikasa would know if…” he trailed off.
Jean looked up suddenly, realization striking him, but Levi was already out of the room.
Got him.
“I need everyone off of the channel that Hanji is on,” Levi snapped at Moblit. “No communication in or out of that room, do you hear me?”
“I’ll just tell them that we’re cutting the—“
“No! You don’t say shit,” Levi whispered. “Let me handle this.”
He closed his eyes and Moblit stepped away from him instinctively. Everyone knew not to go near Levi when he was like this, lest they be sucked into his pull.
Hanji.
Hanji perked their head up from their chin.
Levi. Long time since we’ve done this. Not since Barcelona, they thought.
Don’t acknowledge my presence. I want you to excuse yourself from the room, but don’t alert Eren.
Why not, they asked, stacking papers.
He’s a Shifter.
“He’s out there isn’t he?” Eren asked suddenly, sniffing the air. “The one who has been in the Void.”
“Since you refuse to be cooperative, I’m sorry there is nothing to be done for you,” Hanji ignored Eren’s outburst.
“You’re out there aren’t you, old man?” Eren asked eyes wide and excited.
“Please excuse me,” Hanji said, shutting the door behind them.
“Gas him,” Levi whispered to Moblit.
Eren heard him through the glass a second too late.