(Author's Note: DO NOT PRINT OR STEAL MY WORK! THIS FICTION STAYS HERE AND ONLY HERE UNLESS I SAY SO! COPYING OR PRINTING IS STEALING! DISCLAIMER: I OWN THIS FIC BUT NOT IT'S CHARACTERS OR FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST ITSELF!)

"Full Metal, are you ready?" asked the voice from the earpiece, the tone serious for this was a serious task.

"As ready as I'll ever be," replied a cocky male voice, muffled by his black bandana that was used to hide half his face. "But as you know…I'm always ready to kill."

The night was chill and quiet. None expected that soon…they will die and it would only be done by one.

The location was up in the rolling rocky hills of the desert – cold and dry. Carved into the cliffs with bulky rocks and brittle brown brush, was the facility the assassin needed to infiltrate and destroy. It was a military base and they were the enemy; the "once good guys" but now gone bad with dark and terrible secrets. Though, "Full Metal" wasn't so good to begin with. He was once the product of that madness.

"Heh…the plan is a-go, get ready for the blood bath," Full Metal chuckled in a dark and icy tone as he pulled his black cap over his head, just above his eyes which were the only thing exposed.

In the silence of the night, under the vast dark sky, the mysterious figure crept through the rocks, across the dirt and onto the ledge where the wide glass window stretched across the cliff. Some dim yellow light getting out and casting the desert sand in a gloom. But soon it shall be cast in blood.

Blood…

How something so simple aroused his interest, bringing a gleam to his eyes and making his mouth water. "An Abomination," they called him. Those, who have mocked him from the other side of his cage. But at the moment he was loose to do as he pleased, the ones who mocked him now a part of his death tally. And now, the rest of them were all about to suffer death.

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There was a certain grudging look to his face; this which was caused from the stack of papers that were placed before him.

'So much work…'he thought sluggishly due to the exhaustion that weighed heavily upon him.

It was bound to be the death of him.

The night was quiet; there were no sounds – unless the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner counted. But it was faint. Slow. Almost nonexistent. Like how he wished to be right now…or at least at home asleep.

There was no precise measurement or amount of strain he felt upon his shoulders. Such as the world and all its contents were pressing down on him to make sure he fails. Thus was the life of a Colonel in the military. Work was never done. More was always created.

"Much similar to a toddler…" the men grumbled to himself, a sigh escaping which almost made his body feel completely empty and hollow. "Low attention span – starts but never finishes – always makes a mess and throws tantrums when it's told no."

With dull black eyes, the Colonel looked about his office. His desk was placed at the back of the room, the large glass windows behind him. In front of him were his three green couches that were made into an incomplete square at the center of the office. To his left and right were just book cases and shelves and plants on the verge of dehydrated death.

'Boring…so boring…'

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Fanfic(c)Lady Melodist

Fullmetal Alchemist(c)Hiromu Arakawa