Disclaimer: I do not own FMA

~~~Section Divider~~~

Whoosh.

That sound was the first thing Edward noticed as he slowly regained consciousness. His mind was like viscous syrup, his thoughts muddled and moving at a pace slower than a snail's. Eventually he came to recognize how his fingers and toes twitched as he struggled to lift eyelids, feeling as if there were concrete blocks on top of them.

For some reason, Edward could not breathe. He did not need to breathe. It was as if he were floating in a state of stasis, all bodily functions capable of being ignored. The alchemist did not even know when he has last been conscious, or why he had become conscious once more; it seemed unnecessary, and like a burden.

However, Edward could not ignore the low murmurs that he could just hear, or the constant whooshing sounds. Both sounds puzzled him; what were those murmurs coming from, and what could possibly make a sound that whooshed? It didn't feel windy.

Finally, he managed to peel his eyelids back, revealing golden eyes peering out into a vision of green. Green was all around, with bubbles floating up before him and murky images blurring a bit beyond. What was this? Edward started panicking, but forced himself to calm down until he became aware enough to recognize more about his condition.

First, he had to test his movements. It took a lot of willpower, but the alchemist managed to achieve shifting and moving up his flesh leg and arms. Sure enough, it felt as if he were submersed in a pool, albeit of a liquid thicker than water, with small bubbles trailing after his movements. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, for it had been a long time since he had swam; such actions were advised against when one had hunks of metal attached to them.

Speaking of automail . . . Edward looked to his right arm and the area around it. Sure enough, it was human flesh. He frowned, for his memories were mixed up at the present time, and he wasn't sure exactly when and how he had regained it. He and Al had been successful, right? This thought calmed the alchemist considerably: he had achieved his life goal, so surely whatever was happening to him now did not matter so much.

However, something seemed wrong, nagging at him the more he looked at his right arm. Eventually it struck him: the scars from the automail limb and where the arm had reconnected were gone! How could this be?

Edward craned his neck down to discover that, not only was he lacking any article of clothing, but that his left leg was also there, not a sign of metal in sight (and the alchemist was sure that he had not regained that limb); and what was more was that the scars crossing over his chest were also gone! Edward gasped at this, and only at the back of his mind did he start wondering how he could breathe and gasp when he was surrounded by a liquid; what was going on here?

There were other things than just the case of his reappearing limbs and vanishing scars for Edward to mull over now: for he caught sight of strange patches attached to his chest, wires extending out of them and extending upwards to the top of . . . was this a tank that he was in? Although he found his movements sluggish still, the People's Alchemist started patting from as low as he could reach to upwards, where he found a strange cord floating above him, attaching to a piece cupping over his mouth and nose. Ah, so was this how he could remain breathing?

Nevertheless, Edward was freaked out by what he had discovered, and started looking about. All he could see though, through the green, were shapes beyond the tank that he could not even make out, blurred beyond recognition by the glass (at least, the tank seemed to be made out of glass) and liquid he was contained within.

Edward frowned and reached forward to touch the curved tank wall in front of him. Then he moved to clap his hands together as if in prayer, determined to test something and, if it worked, get answers . . .

~~~Section Divider~~~

William sat with long desks surrounding his sides and front. Various holoscreens floated about him and an actual computer screen raised on the desk in front of him, while several more keyboards, each hooked up to an individual holoscreen projector, were sprawled about his workspace. A disconcerted look was on his face as he stared intently at the screen before him, eyes narrowed as the radiant lights added to the fluorescent lighting of the room and made everything too bright.

On the screen were several lines with a number, from one to eleven, denoting them. They had all shown a trend of small and widely spaced fluctuations for as long as William could remember (save for seven of them, which had long since become completely straight), and only since just a few minutes ago had one of the lines' fluctuations suddenly spiked and scrunched together. This concerned William, for it could possibly mean a premature awakening of one of the test subjects, and this was a highly controlled experiment. What was more, if the test subject did awaken before time, then it could not simply be put back into its stasis, for it would have messed it up.

William reached over to one of the holoscreen projectors to his right, a finger alighting upon a touch pad and making a swiveling motion. The holoscreen the projector was linked to rushed over to float a foot and a half in front of William's face, and he then moved to the number pad on the keyboard linked to that holoscreen, punching in numbers as one would do with a telephone.

The holoscreen William faced flickered wildly, and when it cleared the screen revealed the stern face of a man reaching an elderly age, frowning at William.

"What is so important that it requires an immediate holoscreen link, William?" The man before him snapped.

"Sir, the readings on Test Subject 004 indicates either a technological mishap or an increase in brain function, and Project Ancient Art Weapon isn't due to be put to the actual test, let alone purpose, for another year!" William said, stating some of what his superior already knew in accordance with government conduct to ensure misinterpretation wouldn't happen.

The face of William's superior flushed red and drained white, his eyebrows and lips working, as he seemed to run through various emotions and struggle to respond.

"Immediately run an in-person check on Test Subject 004 and then the others. I expect it to be carried through like a crime scene, which nothing left unexamined and reported." He ordered, and William's hand snapped to his forehead in a salute. The holoscreen before him flickered once more as the man on the other side ended the communication link, and when it returned to normal revealed that it was once more blank.

William's brows knitted together, his lips pressed this. Placing his hands flat on the desk before him, he sat up sharply, his chair wheeling back a bit, and then curtly walked off. He would have to retrieve some of the technicians and guards.

All the while, William cursed. He'd had a nice life as a scientist on this project so far, and wasn't too keen on it turning out any other way. If Amestris didn't succeed in this endeavor, it could mean its end and his head on a platter to the Fuhrer for his failure.

~~~Section Divider~~~

Author's Note: All critique, suggestions, questions, praise, flames, et cetera are very welcome! They let me know that the readers are interested in this story enough to read and respond to it in any way, and I appreciate reviews, which will spur me to post future chapters of this fic and strive to make it better. Also, does anyone know how to get the lines for section dividers in and, if so, could you please tell me?