A/N: Characters are FMA manga based and the song is from Ayreon. I adore both and encourage the listening of Ayreon. It's pretty music with cheesiness galore. Now despite the bizarreness of the first FMA anime's ending, I'm going to incorporate some of it into this. You'll see in what ways. X3
Warnings: Spoilers for the manga. Envy's point of view.
The Truth is in Here
Last night I had that dream again
My world was black as night
Plagued by visions of a future world
(Mr L, did you take your meds?)
Everything is black- up and down, left and right. The lack of color hurts my eyes. Or are they closed? If there is no light, how do I know for sure that my eyes are open? I try to raise my hand to touch my face, to feel something –anything at all. My arm won't move. Am I being held down? It's hard to tell since along with a loss of sight there's a loss of feeling. This place is nothing but darkness and coldness so freezing it sends goose bumps along my skin and shivers down my spine. In a way, that has to be a good sign. I can feel; there's just nothing to feel. So I must be able to see as well. Nothing is wrong with me exactly. It's where I am. I only wish I knew where that was.
A noise so soft I nearly missed it breaks the silence, coming from behind me. My neck swivels around, and I hope to see something. Any sort of light, however faint it was, would be such a needed relief. Another noise chimes throughout the air, only this time from the front. Once again, no one is there to be seen. The sound was so familiar. Is it a person? High-pitched but quiet, almost muffled. Laughter? A giggle? Someone out there is mocking me? I refuse to allow that. I am not someone to be mocked. I'm a homunculus- the most superior being there is (excluding Father himself, of course). There was no way that someone was going to mock me and get away with it.
"Who's there?" I snarl. My anger subsides at the strange, foreign sound of my voice. It's raspy and hoarse, almost as if it hadn't been used in weeks. Did I always sound like this? No. That's impossible. I'm always talking. Sarcasm and sass are well-known traits of mine, not to mention how I enjoy tormenting my victims with horrifying details regarding the different ways in which I could kill them. Humans and their silly concepts of life and death amuse me. The two are one in the same for a human. They live only to die, so why fear it? It's inevitable, unlike for a homunculus. We live forever. We'll be the ones here when humans are all dead and gone. Just us. It will be a paradise. Only I won't be able to ever see that vision come to fruition if I can't figure out where I am and how I can escape.
I swerve around at the sound of footsteps, somehow managing to move my numb legs. "Answer me!"
But no answer comes, only the touch of something cold. It's everywhere. Something begins wrapping around my arms, my legs, my torso, my neck. Was I going to die here? How did I ever get in here to begin with? Where was I?
Suddenly the sound of childish giggling is everywhere, coming from all directions.
"Silly, fool," is whispered against my neck. "Your kind does not belong here. You have nothing that we can take."
And then the light came: blinding, agonizing whiteness. My eyes burn in pain as they squeeze shut, but that awful light can't be blocked. How could I have wished for this? I almost prefer the darkness. At least that one only comes with a dull ache, not this blazing torment.
"You're confused, aren't you? Poor thing."
"Shut up!" I rasp, my throat scratchy and inflamed from lack of use. "Release me! At once!"
"As if you hold any power," they laugh. And it is a 'they'. Voices come from everywhere.
They're right, though. In my blinded, numbed state, how am I to do anything? As much as I try, I can't break free. I can't shapeshift or move. But I'm angry- oh so angry. They will all pay. Even if they aren't human, they are still beneath me. I will squash them like the insects they are.
"Open your eyes."
I refuse. It would hurt. I don't like pain.
A sigh. "Open his eyes."
The cool touch of fingers that had wrapped around my arms loosen and let go, only to climb up towards my face. I try to use this to my advantage, to escape; but it makes no difference. New hands quickly spring up to take the place of the other ones while the ones on my face move towards my eyes. I snarl in rage. It would hurt. So much. Despite my attempts to keep them squeezed shut, the fingers pry my eyes open. I scream in shock (no, fright! Terror! Shock doesn't even begin to describe the sight I see!).
The arms that were surrounding me are nothing more than black, shadowy wisps, similar to the ones that Pride uses. All of them share the trait of being long and flimsy, but they vary in sizes and the grips of the hands are strong, no doubt leaving behind marks on my mostly bare skin. My flesh crawls in disgust as they touch and feel every part of me, sliding along my arms and thighs, even beneath what little clothing I'm wearing on my chest and legs- almost as if they wanted something but couldn't take it. The sheer amount of them is terrifying in itself! How was I to escape this? I can't even tell where they're coming from (behind me? Above me?), but I can see the one talking to me. The figure is no more than a white, shadowy outline, even if that makes no sense. I can hardly tell the figure apart from the white surrounding us. If it weren't for its toothy grin and fuzzy outline, I probably wouldn't have even seen it sitting curled up in front of me.
"Look," it says while gesturing towards the left. Before I even have a chance to, the hands around me twist my head in that direction. "Does it look familiar?"
It does. How could I forget that giant, looming gate? Its image has been scarred into my mind ever since the Fullmetal Alchemist had called it forth and opened it while we were trapped inside of Gluttony's belly. But how long ago was that? I just can't remember.
"How does it feel to be on the inside looking out?"
I was inside it? But everything was white… I thought the inside of the Gate was full of knowledge. That was one of the reasons why Father wants to get inside so badly; he craves the knowledge that is contained within. Perhaps this being was causing there to be light? But what of the nightmarish eyeballs that were said to be inside the doors? That's a common description that alchemists use when talking about what the Gate of Truth contains. Then again, never had a homunculus been inside. We can't use alchemy, so we can't conjure it up. Maybe things inside are just different for us… Or maybe I'm simply thinking too hard into the matter.
"You can go through it. Just open it. Go home."
Home…? Things begin coming back to me. Had there been another time that I had gone into the Gate? No, that wasn't it.
A feeling of dread washes over me as realization finally dawns. I had never left the Gate to begin with. Fullmetal's plan had gone horribly wrong.
The black arms that envelope me finally began loosening their hold until they are gone, disappearing to where they had come from and leaving behind only that single figure in front of me. Its smile seems to grow larger and wider as if sensing my growing horror. Why can't I remember anything past the agreement I had made with Elric? All I had to do was sacrifice a few of the souls inside of me; Edward was the one who was to take the hit if things went wrong. He was the one who had called forth the Gate, not me!
But he and that Xingese brat are no where to be seen. Was I the only one the Gate had kept?
Or maybe this was still apart of the process of escaping. I just have to go through- no, out those Gates, and I would be free and back in Amestris.
The thing in front of me is acting as if he knows something that I don't, but I ignore it. The consequences of going through the doors can not be any worse than remaining here.
With one last wilting glare, I turn away from the figure (the Truth? Was that what Edward had called it?) and walk towards the dreaded Gates. Even if I wanted to, I doubt I can stop myself. My legs are moving seemingly by themselves. Once I arrive in front of the exit, I reach my arms out to pull it open, grabbing hold of the handles and yanking as hard as I can. With a creak and a groan, the decrepit doors open wide, inviting me inside. Without a look back, I walk through…
…and I bolt upright in a bed; trembling, confused, and in a numbingly cold sweat.
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A/N: I was going to make this into a single story, but then I realized it might be a bit too long and that this was the perfect place to leave as a cliffhanger. Next chapters will be longer, I promise, and will hopefully cover more than just half a stanza. Reviews are encouraged and welcomed. : )