To say in the least, Armin was exhausted. Moving from the Walls to the headquarters of the Corps, rushing to unpack and settle in to the designated dormitories of the new recruits, and then spending the rest of the day cleaning up whatever the Corporal assigned-- it all happened so quickly that he could barely process it, but the weight of fatigue that clung to him was enough to prove that it actually happened. Everybody was high-strung as it was, considering they were no longer within the safety of the Walls; if a Titan were to attack, they'd have no choice but to fight, and Armin wasn't entirely sure they were capable of doing that after the day they've had.
Regardless of the constant worrying buzz that tugged at the edges of his mind, Armin was slowly making his way toward the dormitories, trying to go through a mental checklist of things that needed to be done. Clean and prep gear; check. Get the Scouting Legion cloak; check. Scrub the grout of the Northern tower; check... Nothing else came to mind, and he let out a small sigh of relief; he could finally rest a bit.
The clink of metal on metal made Armin glance up, half expecting to see a squad who hadn't finished their duties rushing to do so. He caught the glint of a 3DMG and nearly opened his mouth to remind whoever it was that the gear was supposed to be put away already, but his mouth ran dry as his gaze settled on the face of the man towering over him. Immediately, he flung his fist against his heart and stood ramrod straight, looking past Commander Erwin rather than directly at him, and yelped, "S-Sir!"
