webAppInput

SceneIdQuery

myProfile

scene

query SceneIdQuery(
  $id: ID!
  $webAppInput: WebAppInput
) {
  myProfile(webAppInput: $webAppInput) {
    ...MyProfile_myProfile
    id
  }
  scene(id: $id) {
    ...Scene_scene
    ...SceneMedias_scene_16LRdq
    id
    order
    rating
    title
    seoTitle
    seoDescription
    isPublished
    isScheduled
    publishedAt
    content
    embeddedMedia {
      mediaId
      state
    }
    story {
      ...Story_story
      id
      isMine
      commentsAccess
    }
    prevScene {
      id
    }
    nextScene {
      id
    }
  }
}

fragment JobInfo_job on AiGenerationJob {
  id
  type
  status
  currentStage
  attemptCount
  maxAttempts
  lastErrorCode
  scheduledAt
}

fragment MediaStatusFields_media on Media {
  id
  status
  generationError
  activeGenerationJob {
    ...JobInfo_job
    currentStage
    id
  }
}

fragment MyProfile_myProfile on User {
  id
  name
  email
  isAdmin
  hasEverPaid
  isEmailConfirmed
  isEmailNotificationEnabled
  isTelegramNotificationEnabled
  isTempPassword
  avatar
  cover
  about
  contacts
  support
  telegramId
  vkId
  availableLimits
  frozenLimits
  urlSlug
  topUpPackages {
    id
    price
    currency
    toBalanceLimits
    bonusLimits
    totalCreditedLimits
    USD
  }
  availablePaymentProviders
  aiGenerationCosts {
    plan {
      size
      cost
    }
    characterSuggest
    ideaExpand
    sceneWrite {
      length
      cost
    }
    mediaGenerate
    animate {
      withoutAudio
      withAudio
    }
  }
  activeGenerationJobs {
    id
    type
    status
    limitCost
    story {
      id
      authorTitle
    }
  }
}

fragment SceneMedias_scene_16LRdq on Scene {
  id
  story {
    id
  }
  mediaAttachments(viewMode: READ) {
    id
    media {
      ...MediaStatusFields_media
      id
      type
      genesis
      previewSrc
      mediaSrc512: mediaSrc(size: 512)
      mediaSrc1024: mediaSrc(size: 1024)
      videoPosterSrc(size: 1024)
      sourceMedia {
        id
        mediaSrc1024: mediaSrc(size: 1024)
      }
      userPrompt
      finalPrompt
      rawPrompt
      mediaAttachments {
        id
        story {
          id
        }
        scene {
          id
        }
        character {
          id
        }
      }
      embeddedInScenes {
        id
      }
    }
  }
  embeddedMedia {
    mediaId
    state
  }
  sceneCharacterStates {
    id
    character {
      id
      name
    }
  }
}

fragment Scene_scene on Scene {
  id
  order
  displayOrder
  title
  rating
  isPublished
  isScheduled
  publishedAt
  minWaitersToPublish
  waitersCount
  readCount
  content
  story {
    id
    isMine
  }
}

fragment Story_story on Story {
  id
  title
  createdAt
  publicDescription
  type
  size
  narrativeType
  rating
  hasCharacters
  status
  isPublished
  isMine
  publishedAt
  likesCount
  favoritesCount
  displayDirection
  plotGenres
  settingGenres
  moods
  tropes
  displayContentWarnings
  sceneAtmospheres
  publishedStats {
    scenesCount
    wordsCount
  }
  author {
    id
    name
    urlSlug
    avatar
  }
  characters {
    id
    name
  }
  fandoms {
    id
    urlSlug
    translation {
      canonicalName
      id
    }
  }
  myState {
    isLiked
    isFavorited
    isWaiting
    id
  }
  lastPublishedScene {
    id
  }
}


The stone corridor stretched before Levi, each step echoing off the walls like a countdown. He had left the forest an hour ago, the scent of pine and damp earth still clinging to his jacket. The weight of what he had done—what he had agreed to—pressed against his ribs like a second heartbeat. He had not slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the tiny Titan, Aurora, with her curious eyes and grasping hands. And then he saw Erwin's face, calculating and unyielding.

He reached the heavy oak door, stained dark from years of use. A single lantern hung beside it, casting a pool of amber light on the worn stone floor. Levi paused, his hand hovering over the iron handle. He could still feel the warmth of the baby's skin from when he had held her, a memory that churned in his gut. He had sworn to hunt them. He had built his life on that hatred. And now he was protecting one.

The office was exactly as he remembered: high ceilings, grey stone walls lined with maps of the territory beyond the walls. A large wooden desk dominated the center, littered with papers, reports, and a half-empty cup of coffee. Erwin stood behind it, tall and broad-shouldered, his blonde hair slicked back, his uniform immaculate. He looked up as Levi entered, his sharp blue eyes fixing on him with an intensity that made Levi's skin prickle.

"Captain Levi," Erwin said, his voice a low, commanding baritone. He did not sit. Instead, he moved around the desk, his long coat brushing against the wood. "I was beginning to wonder when you would report."

Levi closed the door behind him and crossed the room. He stopped a few feet from the desk, standing at ease but alert. "I had patrol duty through the third district. Updated the logs at the garrison." His voice was flat, neutral. He met Erwin's gaze without flinching.

Erwin studied him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked to the large map on the wall, its edges yellowed with age. The forest where Lyra's hideout lay was marked with faint pencil lines—old survey routes. "I received an interesting report this morning," Erwin said, not turning around. "One of my scouts spotted tracks in the northern woods. Large tracks. Fresh."

Levi's pulse quickened, but he kept his face still. He had been careful. He had swept the ground near the hatch before leaving, covering his own footprints with a branch. But he had not thought of the baby's tracks. The ground there was soft. "The forest is full of game," he said slowly. "Deer. Boar. Could have been anything."

Erwin turned, his blue eyes catching the light. "The scout was specific. He said the prints were unlike any animal he had seen. Too large, too deep. He thought it might be a Titan."

The word hung in the air, thick and cold. Levi felt a flicker of alarm, but he suppressed it. He had to stay calm. "If there was a Titan in those woods, I would have seen it," he said. "I covered that area last night. Nothing unusual."

Erwin raised an eyebrow. He walked back to his desk and leaned against the edge, crossing his arms. "You sound certain."

"I am certain." The lie came easily, but it tasted wrong, like ash on his tongue. Levi forced himself to maintain eye contact. He had lied before—to superiors, to enemies—but never to Erwin. Not like this. There was a trust between them, a shared history of blood and duty. And now he was breaking it.

Erwin was silent. He seemed to weigh Levi's words, his gaze probing, searching for cracks. Levi felt the weight of that scrutiny, the way Erwin could peel back layers with just a look. He had seen it happen to others. He had seen Erwin dismantle lies with surgical precision. But Levi had learned to build walls of his own, brick by brick, over years of survival.

"The military command is planning an extermination campaign," Erwin said, shifting topics with a casualness that made Levi's stomach clench. "We've received intelligence that a small group of Titans may have taken refuge in the northern forest. The strategy is to sweep the area, flush them out, and eliminate them in one decisive operation."

Levi's mouth went dry. The northern forest. The baby. Lyra. He saw the picture perfectly: a line of soldiers advancing through the trees, blades glinting, torches if needed. They would find the hatch eventually. They would find Aurora. And they would kill her.

"When?" His voice came out rougher than he intended.

Erwin looked at him sharply. "Soon. Within the week. The details are still being finalized, but the order is likely to come down tomorrow." He paused. "You seem concerned."

Levi shook his head. "Just surprised. There hasn't been a major operation in months. I thought we were consolidating."

"This is part of the consolidation," Erwin said. "We clear the surrounding territory, ensure no threats remain. It's a standard protocol." He tilted his head, a gesture Levi knew well. It meant he was analyzing, connecting dots. "You spent last night in the forest. Did you see any signs of Titan activity? Any tracks, markings, unusual carcasses?"

"No," Levi said. The word came out clipped, final. He wanted to look away, to break the connection, but he forced himself to hold still. His hands were sweating inside his gloves.

Erwin studied him for a long moment. The room was quiet except for the faint crackle of the lantern flame. Levi could hear his own heartbeat, steady but too loud. He focused on the map on the wall—the forest marked in green ink, the river that ran through it, the tiny speck of land where Lyra's hatch was hidden. He memorized the lines, knowing he would need them later.

"You seem tense, Captain," Erwin said, his voice softer now. There was a hint of concern in it, a crack in the commander's facade. "More than usual. Is there something on your mind?"

Levi felt the trap closing. If he opened up, even a little, Erwin would sense it. He had to stay guarded. "Just tired," he said. "Long night of patrol. And I've been dealing with the new recruits. They lack discipline."

Erwin nodded slowly. "I see. Well, you should get some rest. You'll be needed for the campaign." He straightened, turning back to his desk. He picked up a stack of papers, flipping through them. "That will be all, Captain."

Levi did not move immediately. He stood there, rooted to the spot, the weight of his betrayal pressing down on him. He had done it. He had lied. He had protected the enemy. And he had done it for a creature he had been trained to kill since childhood. Part of him expected Erwin to look up, to see through him, to call his bluff. But Erwin just frowned at a report, his attention already shifting elsewhere.

Levi turned to leave. His legs felt heavy, each step a struggle. He reached the door and grasped the handle, but his hand slipped. He tried again, his fingers curling around the cold iron. He pulled the door open, and as he stepped through, his free hand reached out instinctively, his fingers gripping the doorframe. The wood was rough, splintered. He held on for a second, just long enough to steady himself. The pressure of his grip sent a small jolt of pain through his palm, anchoring him.

He did not look back. He walked out into the corridor, letting the door swing shut behind him. The latch clicked, sealing him off from Erwin—and from the life he had known. He had crossed a line, and there was no returning. The thought of Aurora's small face, the way she had nuzzled against his hand, flickered through his mind. He had to protect her. He had to find a way to stop the campaign. But as he walked down the stone hallway, the shadows long and cold, he felt the weight of his betrayal like a blade between his ribs.

The stone corridor stretched before Levi, each step echoing off the walls like a countdown. He had left the forest an hour ago, the scent of pine and damp earth still clinging to his jacket. The weight of what he had done—what he had agreed to—pressed against his ribs like a second heartbeat. He had not slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the tiny Titan, Aurora, with her curious eyes and grasping hands. And then he saw Erwin's face, calculating and unyielding.

He reached the heavy oak door, stained dark from years of use. A single lantern hung beside it, casting a pool of amber light on the worn stone floor. Levi paused, his hand hovering over the iron handle. He could still feel the warmth of the baby's skin from when he had held her, a memory that churned in his gut. He had sworn to hunt them. He had built his life on that hatred. And now he was protecting one.

He pushed the door open.

The office was exactly as he remembered: high ceilings, grey stone walls lined with maps of the territory beyond the walls. A large wooden desk dominated the center, littered with papers, reports, and a half-empty cup of coffee. Erwin stood behind it, tall and broad-shouldered, his blonde hair slicked back, his uniform immaculate. He looked up as Levi entered, his sharp blue eyes fixing on him with an intensity that made Levi's skin prickle.

"Captain Levi," Erwin said, his voice a low, commanding baritone. He did not sit. Instead, he moved around the desk, his long coat brushing against the wood. "I was beginning to wonder when you would report."

Levi closed the door behind him and crossed the room. He stopped a few feet from the desk, standing at ease but alert. "I had patrol duty through the third district. Updated the logs at the garrison." His voice was flat, neutral. He met Erwin's gaze without flinching.

Erwin studied him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked to the large map on the wall, its edges yellowed with age. The forest where Lyra's hideout lay was marked with faint pencil lines—old survey routes. "I received an interesting report this morning," Erwin said, not turning around. "One of my scouts spotted tracks in the northern woods. Large tracks. Fresh."

Levi's pulse quickened, but he kept his face still. He had been careful. He had swept the ground near the hatch before leaving, covering his own footprints with a branch. But he had not thought of the baby's tracks. The ground there was soft. "The forest is full of game," he said slowly. "Deer. Boar. Could have been anything."

Erwin turned, his blue eyes catching the light. "The scout was specific. He said the prints were unlike any animal he had seen. Too large, too deep. He thought it might be a Titan."

The word hung in the air, thick and cold. Levi felt a flicker of alarm, but he suppressed it. He had to stay calm. "If there was a Titan in those woods, I would have seen it," he said. "I covered that area last night. Nothing unusual."

Erwin raised an eyebrow. He walked back to his desk and leaned against the edge, crossing his arms. "You sound certain."

"I am certain." The lie came easily, but it tasted wrong, like ash on his tongue. Levi forced himself to maintain eye contact. He had lied before—to superiors, to enemies—but never to Erwin. Not like this. There was a trust between them, a shared history of blood and duty. And now he was breaking it.

Erwin was silent. He seemed to weigh Levi's words, his gaze probing, searching for cracks. Levi felt the weight of that scrutiny, the way Erwin could peel back layers with just a look. He had seen it happen to others. He had seen Erwin dismantle lies with surgical precision. But Levi had learned to build walls of his own, brick by brick, over years of survival.

"The military command is planning an extermination campaign," Erwin said, shifting topics with a casualness that made Levi's stomach clench. "We've received intelligence that a small group of Titans may have taken refuge in the northern forest. The strategy is to sweep the area, flush them out, and eliminate them in one decisive operation."

Levi's mouth went dry. The northern forest. The baby. Lyra. He saw the picture perfectly: a line of soldiers advancing through the trees, blades glinting, torches if needed. They would find the hatch eventually. They would find Aurora. And they would kill her.

"When?" His voice came out rougher than he intended.

Erwin looked at him sharply. "Soon. Within the week. The details are still being finalized, but the order is likely to come down tomorrow." He paused. "You seem concerned."

Levi shook his head. "Just surprised. There hasn't been a major operation in months. I thought we were consolidating."

"This is part of the consolidation," Erwin said. "We clear the surrounding territory, ensure no threats remain. It's a standard protocol." He tilted his head, a gesture Levi knew well. It meant he was analyzing, connecting dots. "You spent last night in the forest. Did you see any signs of Titan activity? Any tracks, markings, unusual carcasses?"

"No," Levi said. The word came out clipped, final. He wanted to look away, to break the connection, but he forced himself to hold still. His hands were sweating inside his gloves.

Erwin studied him for a long moment. The room was quiet except for the faint crackle of the lantern flame. Levi could hear his own heartbeat, steady but too loud. He focused on the map on the wall—the forest marked in green ink, the river that ran through it, the tiny speck of land where Lyra's hatch was hidden. He memorized the lines, knowing he would need them later.

"You seem tense, Captain," Erwin said, his voice softer now. There was a hint of concern in it, a crack in the commander's facade. "More than usual. Is there something on your mind?"

Levi felt the trap closing. If he opened up, even a little, Erwin would sense it. He had to stay guarded. "Just tired," he said. "Long night of patrol. And I've been dealing with the new recruits. They lack discipline."

Erwin nodded slowly. "I see. Well, you should get some rest. You'll be needed for the campaign." He straightened, turning back to his desk. He picked up a stack of papers, flipping through them. "That will be all, Captain."

Levi did not move immediately. He stood there, rooted to the spot, the weight of his betrayal pressing down on him. He had done it. He had lied. He had protected the enemy. And he had done it for a creature he had been trained to kill since childhood. Part of him expected Erwin to look up, to see through him, to call his bluff. But Erwin just frowned at a report, his attention already shifting elsewhere.

Levi turned to leave. His legs felt heavy, each step a struggle. He reached the door and grasped the handle, but his hand slipped. He tried again, his fingers curling around the cold iron. He pulled the door open, and as he stepped through, his free hand reached out instinctively, his fingers gripping the doorframe. The wood was rough, splintered. He held on for a second, just long enough to steady himself. The pressure of his grip sent a small jolt of pain through his palm, anchoring him.

He did not look back. He walked out into the corridor, letting the door swing shut behind him. The latch clicked, sealing him off from Erwin—and from the life he had known. He had crossed a line, and there was no returning. The thought of Aurora's small face, the way she had nuzzled against his hand, flickered through his mind. He had to protect her. He had to find a way to stop the campaign. But as he walked down the stone hallway, the shadows long and cold, he felt the weight of his betrayal like a blade between his ribs. «Titan's Lullaby», part 3. Fanfiction — Attack on Titan.

The Soldier's Dilemma. Titan's Lullaby — Attack on Titan fanfiction | Fanfica

The Soldier's Dilemma

Devote Your Hearts

Former soldier Levi has spent his life killing Titans, believing them to be mindless beasts. But when Hange, a scientist who insists they are intelligent and oppressed, drags him into a desperate mission to rescue a newborn Titan from the military's execution squad, his worldview shatters. Racing through the walled city with the infant creature, Levi must confront the lies he was taught—and the dark truths of his own bloody past. Can he protect the very monster that once destroyed his home?

Titan's Lullaby — The Soldier's Dilemma

Part 3: The Soldier's Dilemma