We're not a part of your dream like you thought we were.
It wasn't resentment that made him pull the lever. He knew that for certain, and Ed had got it all wrong, as usual.
It wasn't resentment, no, because if it were, why would he be feeling so… exalted, right now?
Right now, of all times.
I care. I make mistakes.
The immense hall was in an uproar. He heard voices. Footsteps. Shouts.
Gunshots.
But, despite the chaos ensuing in the world behind him, he felt at peace. Softly encased in a warm bubble that muffled the sounds and numbed his pain.
Or, no.
It didn't numb the pain, because he wasn't even thinking about it. The world had suddenly gotten much simpler, to his mind. No engines to build, no theorems to prove, no gypsies to hide and no roommates to argue with…
Yes, the world had certainly gotten much simpler, and he found himself detachedly wondering why these other people couldn't see it, too.
I may not be in this world for much longer…The world, he decided vaguely, would be a much better place once people stopped over-complicating things.
…but I'll always be here.
A serene smile crept faintly over his face as his blood pooled around him.
Strange…
The sound of rockets was the only thing that had ever made him feel alive.
How ironic, then, that now he was dieing the only thing upon his ears was their song.
Just don't forget me.
And, quietly, with little fuss, complaint, or concern, Alphonse Heiderich closed his eyes and died.