See him standing over there? His dark eyes wide with fear.

A day will come when they will be narrow with vengeance.

See her sitting on that bench? Her carmine eyes alight with wonder.

The day will arrive when they will be concentrated on a headshot.

So innocent. Destined to go through hell, in their own rights.

So lost.

She turns around. Her back is bare, a grotesque tattoo etched there.

It serves as a reminder of the demons her father could create.

He lifts his hands, a quick snap of the fingers. A spark.

Fire consumes all that he desires; gone in an instant, crumbling to ashes.

It marks him as a bastard from hell, a killer with no regret.

Her hands, they hold a doll now, a book perhaps.

Time will come and her hands will be most familiar

with the cool metal of a gun.

She is the Hawk's Eye, in her own right.

His fingers, they are writing words, planting life.

They will soon be the foundation of terror and death.

He is indeed the dreaded and respected Flame Alchemist.

Both of them, their very souls intertwined with the tendrils of annihilation.

Gone with their childlike innocence;

They will no longer be remembered as wholesome.

Instead it is replaced with a darkness, an all-consuming raging fire.

They have seen hell, they have witnessed it. They endured it.

They are not the same.

They are murderers, assassins and slaughterers,

Doomed to the worst pits of hell.

But—

There. You see it?

Her fingers release the trigger, his hands remove the alchemic gloves.

Her eyes stop calculating; these are not the eyes of a killer.

His eyes cease judging; he does not search for ways to burn an enemy.

For a moment, a short second, they are just like anyone else.

A small smile here, a bit of dry humor there.

Just like anyone else—if for the minute.

So, they are here, still okay, still innocent inside.

Beyond their hard-earned calluses they are still soft and careful.

Going through the abysmal hell that they helped create,

They are still childlike and afraid. They are not completely without hope.

But regret is never strong enough to wash away their deplorable sins.