Disclaimer: No, I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, nor will I ever.

Author's Note: Nope, no idea where this idea came from, or even if it'll be continued. All I know is, since Roy is always going on about wanting to have all the power, it's nice to have a change, yes? I know they're all OOC...that is sort of the point of this story. Also, the rating of this story might be changed.

Please inform me of any grammatical errors, as I'd like to see my mistakes. This has not been Beta'd. Thanks.

On to the story:

His footsteps thudded loudly across the wooden floor, drawing steadily towards his destination, knowing in advance what would be waiting for him. 'Yes,' he thought, 'they know when to follow orders.' And he knew exactly the way in which he would choose his words, especially since a certain someone was ordered to be present.

Closing the distance, he wrenched open the entryway and continued right in.

The slamming of the old, wooden door did not seem to faze any of the people already present in the office, the newcomer noticed.

'Indeed,' he thought, 'my subordinates have been finely trained.' He chuckled to himself at the thought of all those he had power over, all of those that had to follow his commands without hesitation nor argument.

'It's just as well that they do obey; they know the consequences bestowed upon any rebels. Death by my own hand.' A twisted grin threatened to spread across his lips, though it was quickly masked and hidden. No, it wouldn't do for the others to see their leader exhibiting such normal emotions out in the open.

He strolled quickly over to his trim desk, free of both paperwork and personal novelties. Pushing the chair back, he slowly sat down and adjusted his features to a look of cold indifference as he surveyed those that were standing stock-still at attention before him.

"Report!" he barked, making sure to add a menacing tint to his voice, wanting to clarify that he was to be spoken to with the utmost respect he rightfully deserved.

Reminding himself to make a mental note of his unit's reactions, to further help him gain control over them by using any weaknesses, he scrutinized each of the seven personally, fixing them with a look that could and might stop a heart.

"Führer, sir," the only woman present in the room, 1st Lieutenant Riza Mustang, began after straightening her posture and salute, "we have received intelligence suggesting that the rebels you have assigned our unit to track have recently holed themselves up in the far mountains, close to the old Ishbalan refugee camps. After keeping tail for as long as we could, we deemed it necessary to return here to report our information to you, sir." She gazed at him with a mask very much like his own, as though she knew a challenge when she saw it, but thought it unwise to comment. Was that also a hint of disapproval there in her eyes?

He took a moment to consider his response. "And did you happen to see any sign of…"

Before finishing his inquiry, another of his subordinates, this one a male and an air of smugness about him, demanded, "Sir, do you think you're perhaps taking too much interest in that one person? There are at least ten other rebels that we should also consider as threats, as I recall. But," here he paused, smirking slightly, "this one isn't just a threat to you, is he, sir?" He let the question hang in the air, a look of triumph reaching his eyes as he observed Sergeant Kain Fuery nodding his nervous agreement, along with Ward Officer Vato Falman shifting his stance almost imperceptibly.

He took a moment to observe the one person who would dare to openly insinuate his incompetence to his face; the only person he knew of that could dare to stare into his eyes with such rebellion shining through. Sighing mentally, he knew that this was of course to be expected.

For as long as he had been holding the position of Führer of Amestris, there had been those who had bluntly refused to be part of a government run by someone the likes of himself. They had, of course, been taken care of in the most appropriate fashion available. Still, there were some within his own headquarters that did not share his views of how to run the country. Although it didn't seem as if the man standing before him was working against him, only under him, he had not yet been given an indication of reverence from him. However, if this bad-mouthing continued, there were many more effective ways to make allies.

After all, torture is just a stronger word for force, right?

Meeting the unwavering pair of eyes before him, he had to admit that at least this one had a bit of spunk; the others merely seemed drained, or uncaring while fulfilling their duties to the best of their abilities. It would bring him the utmost pleasure to completely squash the fire in those eyes, to make all his hopes and dreams disappear and his fears to become a reality. However much he longed to do so, it was not in his best interests to create another problem for himself. Not with everything that had been happening lately.

As the Lieutenant had mentioned, the old Ishbalan camps, previously brimming with activity from those being held captive there, now held some new occupants. The Führer, upon immediately obtaining his current position, had gone on to make sure that every man, woman, or child currently devoting themselves to Ishbala was exterminated. It wouldn't do for his seemingly perfect community to be soiled by anyone believing the practices of Alchemy were evil. So it was only fitting for those who despised the beauty of said science to be taken care of by it.

Yes, every single Ishbalan that had not been killed when the previous Führer, that incompetent fool, Bradley, had been in power was now either six feet under the soil or charbroiled to a crisp by the giant compost heaps burning in the streets. The only evidence of that killing spree was the blackened stains covering the roads of the camps.

He himself had taken great pleasure especially in seeing a certain red-eyed man with a scar on his face be torn to shreds. That man, whom was dubbed the name "Scar" by the general populace, that was famous for his techniques in completely destroying State Alchemists, and was one of the most famous Ishbalans to still be living at the time, had a truly spectacular death, in his opinion.

As a way of really proving himself to be a competent, and merciless, ruler, he had decided to personally seek out the one man the entire military was after, but could not seem to catch. Scar had been alarmingly easy to go after at the time, after watching his people be annihilated in front of him. Really, he couldn't believe how simple it was; if he had known the easiest way to destroy that monster years ago, Scar could have joined that brother of his sooner.

Funny, how fragile an ordinary human's life can become when put up against ten Chimeras.

Scar had gone down quickly enough, perhaps seeing no reason anymore to fight, and certainly no one to fight for.

Now, because the camps had been burned down and abandoned by all, some idiotic fools had decided to make house near there. The rebels no one could seem to get much information about had finally left the city, which was a positive aspect, but now he had to go to even more trouble by going after them. He could not just leave them to their own devices; they had to be dealt with swiftly, lest their numbers grow or they plan an assault.

And then there was the big man in charge to consider, their leader…

The next person he had his sights set upon, if only to talk to…but that wasn't important right now. What he really needed to think about was the information the people he had forgotten about, the ones standing before him silently, had given. And after assimilating the clues as to their exact whereabouts, and piecing together the facts that he knew about the rebels, then he could let his mind wander back to…that person.

Once again meeting the gazes of his unit situated before him, he nodded once, and then stood up, slapping his hands down on the desk. "Right," he said sharply, "all of you, out. I don't care this time if you all die out there, I need more information! Dismissed!" He whipped himself around, too flustered at being caught with his mind wandering in front of his unit to realize he was showing his undefended back to them all, and waited for the footsteps to recede down the hall and the closing of his office door before doing anything else.

He continued to wait, his patience being tried as he realized he still had company. "Normally," he ground out, "when the Führer gives an order, everyone else is expected to follow, but I understand where you would feel you don't have to listen. You always did have a smug attitude and a blatant disregard for anyone else, didn't you?" He spoke in a mocking tone, as if scolding a little child. "Just remember: one of these days, it's going to bite you in the ass."

Without waiting for the reply he knew was sure to come, he turned around, facing the man standing in the same place as before with the rest, to glare threateningly at him.

"You knew as well as I that the day I took my rightful place as the ruler of this country that there would be some major changes. Why are you being so blind? Can you not see how much good is coming from this reform, and yet here you are, standing in front of me, trying to sabotage my efforts, and for what? Jealousy at my succeeding where you've so obviously failed?" he scoffed, watching the taller man's face carefully.

Finally, the other man spoke. "You assume things so quickly, Führer," here he spat the word as if it were poisonous, "perhaps I've come to give you information, things that only I can tell you as to how to go about controlling this situation you've put yourself in. Or maybe, I've had a change of heart and decided there's no use fighting you anymore. My point: perhaps letting your subordinates speak when they come to report to you. You might even gain more information that way. That is what you're always looking for…information on his whereabouts and motives, isn't it? You won't rest until you find and confront him."

'Damn, very well-played', he thought. 'Seems my intentions aren't all secret anymore. Though it wasn't hard to figure out; it doesn't help that this one is especially intelligent, either.' He supposed that most of his men realized his true reason for wanting the rebels captured and under his control. After all, the one he was looking for was almost as well-known as he was.

He could tell his subordinate was feeling triumphant at his retort, so he decided to knock him down a few pegs. "So," he drawled, "how's the wife lately? Is she doing alright? I haven't had the chance to really talk to her like old pals recently." He noticed the widening of his companion's eyes. "You would really be devastated if something happened to her, yes? She's your world, right?"

Inwardly, he grinned, knowing he had struck a nerve, judging by the hardening of the other man's eyes and the clenching of his jaw. 'The score is tied now…so what card will you deal next?', he thought.

"Don't you even think of laying a hand on her, you bastard! You do, you'll wish you'd never even thought of joining the military. I'll kill you!"

His annoyance for the man before him lessening slightly, being replaced by sheer amusement, he said, "Dear me, what has happened to the calm exterior I saw just a few moments ago? And shouldn't you be watching your words? That's your superior you're talking to; you'd best learn some respect before you do something you'll seriously… regret." He spoke softly, the obvious threat apparent, with laughter lacing his words.

Now his old friend looked a little guilty, knowing what would happen to him should he try to escape now and leave the military and thinking death would be better.

Knowing this conversation was drawing to a close, and that his threat had been taken in, the Führer once again turned his back on the taller man, choosing instead to inspect a bit of dust on the far wall. There was no threat from this man, now. From behind him, the sound of shaky footsteps nearing the door echoed around the now-silent room, and he heard:

"I can't believe what you've let yourself become."

Here, the Führer slowly turned around, now letting his gaze meet the other man's for the last time that day. He faked calm. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," he said. He heard a soft laugh.

"Of course," the other man chuckled. "Only the observers can watch the slow metamorphosis from what you used to be to what you are now. I'm just sorry I noticed too late. I'm sorry for that."

"Shut up!" he snapped, unwilling to let the words sink in. "You are dismissed; get out of my office before I do something I will truly regret, Mustang!"

General Roy Mustang looked sadly over at him, guilt etched into every feature. "I can't believe how much you've changed, Edward. What happened to the boy that was never afraid to do what was right, that could never have killed anyone?"

There was a pregnant pause, and Roy thought the silence would become permanent, until he heard a soft reply.

"He left, just like his brother."

Roy opened the office door and stepped out, leaving the Fullmetal Alchemist to his thoughts.