A slight chill cut through the air as the sun began its descent into the Western sky. Ed adjusted his jacket collar so that it covered the back of his neck more fully. The clothing wasn't right though; the heavy cotton was unbleached and stiff. His carmine blazer had been far more comfortable. It had covered his neck better too. 



Three full days had come and gone, and yet, his mind still insisted that he was dreaming. It was too much to comprehend, and honestly he didn't like the idea in the least. How had he ended up here, again, for a second time? Was it real? Was he really alive? What had become of Al...? If his life had been exchanged for his younger brother's, why was he still breathing? The first time Hohenheim had been right there, and was able to help him make sense of the whole thing, but this...this was beyond understanding. 


"Hohenheim, you bastard, where did you run off to? You're always leaving me when I need you most! What kind of father are you?"



Passersby glanced sideways at him as he marched angrily down the stone pavement, muttering to himself. He had no idea where he was heading, but he didn't really care either. He needed to burn off some of this energy if he had any hope of figuring this out. He turned the corner and was about to continue on when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head quickly, he spotted it again. An older man with graying hair and medium build, the Crystal Alchemist moved away from him in the opposite direction amidst the tide of people. Ed froze in place, his whole body tensing as he watched the other man continued on his way. 



"Marcoh. Doctor Marcoh!"



The man couldn't hear him from such a distance though. Marcoh drifted further away, and Ed began to lose sight of him in the growing crowd. The young alchemist pushed his way through the moving assembly of homebound factory workers, not caring if he was rude. He needed an explanation. He needed to hear from someone he knew that this was real, and not some twisted nightmare he was living in. This world around him seemed fake, and he felt like he was the only real thing in it. 



He fought against the torrent of people as he followed after Marcoh. The man casually led him through the busy streets of Munich, completely unaware of his pursuer. Eventually they broke free from the throng of travelers, stepping onto the quiet stone of an empty side street. A large church stood at the end of the short road, and was obviously Marcoh's destination. 



Not about to miss this opportunity, Ed rushed forward and grabbed the other man's shoulder, calling his name. He spun him around so that they were face to face, and what stood before him was so baffling it left the younger man speechless. Doctor Marcoh, or rather the man he had believed to be the retired alchemist, was dressed as a priest, carrying a bible in one hand with an overcoat draped over his forearm. His crisp black shirt was tucked neatly into black trousers, and the contrasting white at his throat drew Ed's attention for some unknown reason. What did this all mean?



"You look troubled, my son. What ails you on such a beautiful, spring night?"



"It's nothing." Damn, there was no way this was the real Marcoh. The real doctor would never feign ignorance about the situation. Just seeing Edward here, in this strange world, would be question enough he was sure. 



"Lies do not become you," he chuckled. "And who is this 'Marco' that you seek? I fear you may have mistaken me for someone else."



"I guess I did. Sorry to bother you." Ed turned to leave, when a question struck him. He didn't have anyone else to talk to, so why not try this alternate-version Marcoh on for size. "Well, maybe there is something you can answer for me. Recently I had a...discussion...about whether or not we humans deserve the right to choose for ourselves. She said that we weren't capable of controlling our own destinies, and that we needed guidance or else we were doomed to fail."


"Well, it is true that as humans, it is in our very nature to sin."



"But we're in control of our own lives. We make our own choices! They may not always be right, but that doesn't mean we're always wrong!"



"We are not predestined to walk only the path of destruction and forever fall out of God's good Grace, but we are neither all knowing nor all powerful. It is sure that we will stumble and fall many times in our lives on this Earth." 



The priest's eyes were soft and warm, and the kindness in them made Edward uncomfortable. This foreign land with its strange people made him feel uneasy, but this seemingly familiar face was somehow even more alien to him than the rest. What was going on?



"I guess so, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't have the right to make those choices." Dante had been so full of herself, so sure that what she was doing was right. He just couldn't believe it, no matter what anyone said. 



"Yes, God has given us that great gift, the gift of Free Will, and alongside it the gift of His forgiveness. If you repent, He will absolve you of your sins."



"I don't care about 'God's forgiveness' or any of that; there is no god holding me accountable for my actions. Just myself and the laws of science," Ed state firmly. Damn it, why did people always try to talk to him about faith. He was a man of science. There was a reasonable explanation for everything. Sometimes you just had to look deeper to find it. 



"But my son, the concept of sin is not exclusive to religion. Scruples make a good man. Surely you can adhere to that?" He grasped Ed's shoulder lightly, making a physical connection in emphasis of his question. 



"I believe if I work hard I will be rewarded. 'In order to obtain, something of equal value must first be lost.' " It was the first and absolute law of alchemy. Everything in life required balance, so it was an easy doctrine to adhere to. "As to whether or not something is the right thing to do, only we can determine what is right for ourselves." Well, he wanted to believe that, but after coming through The Gate a second time, he wasn't quite so sure anymore. Just wanting to believe that what you were doing is right, didn't make the act itself right. What was it that he was trying to accomplish now? 



As if he could read Edward's thoughts, the priest spoke again. "St. Paul says that ' the demands of the law are written on the hearts of men.' We are all born with the ability to decipher virtuousness from immorality. Even if we choose not to have faith, we are still held accountable for our actions. But God does reward good men. He understands that at times we will doubt, that at times we will stray. It is your acknowledgment of those sins and your remorse that are the key to true happiness."



"But we've acknowledged what we've done wrong! Why must we keep paying for it?"



"We do not always know the plan God has for us. As the Lord's Son tells us, 'It is a paradox and a challenge. The challenge forces us to step back and ask ourselves: What am I made of? What does my life stand for, and am I going to retaliate, or act selflessly.' Do not consider the cost if you are to be truly happy, for it is the sacrifice itself that makes us better men."



"In exchange for my brother's life I was sent here. If you want to call it remorse for my sins so be it." Ed clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He didn't believe for a second that his latest exchange was sinful in any way. He knew the consequences and made the sacrifice of his own accord. Maybe it was a punishment, maybe it wasn't. He didn't care. He just wanted to find a way back to them. "I won't give up. I will find a way back somehow...I just hope that he's there when I arrive...and that he doesn't forget me." 


"I cannot say whether or not you will be remembered upon your return, but I can tell you that another person's memories are not yours to control. We are living on the brink of war, with the hope of great social change. The things we do and see in these times may be better off forgotten. But do not let go of your own memories, and should you reach your destination someday, those will serve as a catalyst to recall anew those times passed. In the meantime, I advise you to scrutinize your morality, and determine whether your actions follow your heart's conscience, or whether they are fueled by selfish desires."



Ed's shoulders slumped as he exhaled deeply, looking defeated. Maybe he was being selfish. It was Equivalent Exchange after all: his body and soul for those of his brother. Who was he to question this existence, or to try and reclaim that which he had given up? 



The older man laughed softly. "You carry the weight of the world on those shoulders, my son. Give up your worries unto the Lord, and he will guide you to truer paths."



The young alchemist cast his eyes downward, unfocused and not meeting the other man's gaze. "I thought we went over this already, I don't believe..." His voice was tired. Hell, his very being was tired. It seemed that all he had ever done was nothing more than a vain attempt to atone for his past, and where had that led him? 



"Yes, yes. But please, humor an old man for just a few minutes more." 



Ed raised an eyebrow questioningly, but did not protest further.



"If you are penitent, my son, truly contrite for what you have done, God will forgive you. We all struggle with our faith at times, but remember, all suffering is rooted in the greatest evil, which is separation of one's self from God. A living Hell you might say. While it may feel otherwise, you are not alone in this world. He is always with you."



"Right." Ed looked back at the main road, now devoid of the bustle he had battled earlier. Everyone was home by now, eating dinner and enjoying their families. Where was he supposed to go? He decided that he had gotten enough answers for one night. It was clear to him that there was a lot more to Equivalent Exchange than he had previously believed, and if he truly wanted to find his way back through The Gate he would need to get to work right away. Turning back to the patient priest, Ed spoke again. "You've given me a lot to think about. Thanks for your time. I should be heading back now."



"Any time, my son. Please, come by to visit again."



"I might just do that. Take care." Ed slowly made his way out of the alleyway and onto the main road. He dragged his feet over the individual cobblestones, absently tracing the round edges with the sole of his boot. His mind was so full of questions he didn't know where to start deciphering. Where do I go now? The apartment his alter-reality had occupied with Hohenheim seemed logical enough. It had been his refuge for the past few nights anyway. That was one problem solved. 



Ed had wanted answers. He had wanted to know why he was here. He had wanted to know, without a doubt, that his brother's body and soul had been reunited. Unfortunately, he had learned none of that just then. In fact, he was quite sure that he had even more questions after talking to that priest. Ed tried to focus, going deep into the bowels of his consciousness. Oblivious to his surroundings, he drifted toward the row house where he had been residing. He was a ghost wafting through the abandoned streets, transparent and not part of this world.



Without noticing, he had somehow made it all the way back to the apartment. Now what? He noted the broken clock that was laid out on the table. He sat down in front of it and began analyzing all of the surrounding parts. The young alchemist wasn't used to assembling machinery by hand, that was Winry's thing. How was Winry doing now? Was she all right?



He started fitting the pieces back into place, tightening bolts and adjusting springs. There were some missing pieces though. In a small tin on the same table, there were a number of spare parts piled together. Picking up a stray bolt and examining it carefully, Ed concluded that it was most likely nickel plated. If there was enough carbon and zinc, he could transmute the part he needed in a heartbeat. Well, he could if he were back in his own world. 



Sadly he placed the pieces back on the table, re-abandoning an already abandoned project. Was this also his penitence? Being sent to a world without advanced alchemy? He had relied on his science so readily, so easily, that now he felt a bit empty without it. Funny how he could miss a scientific process even a little bit.



"I need some air," he announced to no one in particular. He stood up from the work table and opened the window that faced the dark street. Resting his back against the wooden pane, he sat on the windowsill and let one leg dangle in the open air while the other remained indoors. The stars were dim, hidden by the haze of city lights and smoke. It was nothing like the dazzling beauty of a night in Resembool. Ed could picture the brilliant starlight shining through the purest black. He would see those stars again one day. He had to. 



"Don't jump," Hohenheim implored gently. "...though I suppose in a way you already have."



When had he come back? Wasn't he in London? Ed hadn't heard him come in, though to say he had been deep in thought might have been an understatement. An army could've invaded and he probably never would have noticed. "What are you talking about?"



"I remember staring into the night sky like that once before. The guilt, the confusion...I know what you're experiencing, Edward."



"I just want to go back." He had sacrificed so much, been beaten down and thrown away. When did it end? When would he find his reward? 



"I understand, son, but this is the price we must pay."



"I know that much, but I'm not letting go just yet. I'll find a way." 



Perhaps he was a sinner after all.