The shots rung out, a warning bell to those foolish enough to listen, punctuating the silence of the packed city square like a twig breaking snowfall in the dead of night. The crowd gasped as one, and then tension rose as moments ticked by and blood seeped from the bullet wounds sluggishly.
The air is thick with cold-blooded anticipation, crowd eager for the first death.
The man's mouth hung open with shock, crimson eyes wide as the bullets riddle Amestrian blue. It seemed like eons passed before his knees crumpled and he fell. The goggles that had shaded him from the worlds scrutiny fell to his side, cracked and shattered and covered in blood.
Her tears were silent, but still, Alex could feel her despair as easily if she'd screamed. He reached out to her, and it was a testament to how much she was truly hurting when she didn't pull away, and instead allowed him to pull her into an awkward, one-armed hug.
They had unchained them earlier, because in a few moments it wouldn't matter anyway. They had no weapons, no hope to fight on. They'd chosen this, in a strange way, and were thus trusted with this small mercy.
They were given time to say goodbye, to hold one another before the incoming darkness. They took what they could.
It was all they could do.
They watched in silence as their partner in crime was led out, head held high and eyes hard. He flashed them a smile as he walked out, forced and pained, and Alex could only imagine the thoughts going the man's head, as well as the guilt.
His dream was sending them off to die.
Is this really what you wanted, sir?
The only answer he received was the crackle of bullets and the dullest of thuds. A whimper rather than a bang, and the audience caught it, some of them booing as the Flame Alchemist fell to the ground, eyes once full of hope and promise dull and dank in death.
Olivier caught his eyes then, and snapped, "Alex, don't you dare cry." Her blue eyes hardened and her mouth curled into a scowl, almost as if daring him to do otherwise.
"I- I won't sister."
"An Armstrong doesn't cry, not even in the face of the death. Remember that, brother, and smile."
And then she was led from the room with her head held high and a grim smile on her face that Alex couldn't even begin to understand, even though she'd attempted to explain it to him, late in the night, when masks no longer mattered.
Alex, we go to a place higher than even the mountains of Briggs. We shall be reunited with our fallen and in doing so, clear a path for this country's recovery.
If any life is to be sacrificed for a cause, it should be the ones of those who lead it.
The gunshots rattled in his skull still, even as he is escorted from the room.
His gait is steady as he walked into the harsh light of day, and he kept his eyes forward, clear of fear and sadness. Out of a sea of thousands of onlookers, blue eyes caught dark brown, fearful and distraught, as the shooting squad readied their guns, and he nods.
Pop-Pop-Pop
And the man that not even a homunculus could best fell to his knees, eyes closed and the smallest of smiles on his face, even as his world darkened and fell to shadow.
In the stands, brown eyes shuttered close, and he took a shuddering breath, as though with the final gunshot, his own breath had been stolen.
The body was taken away and Kain felt wrong, dirty and responsible, and he clutched cool metal between his finger tips, the engraved name all he had left of the one just taken from him. The crowd cleared out and yet he stayed, eyes drawn to the dark, wet patches of blood that glistened in the sunlight, the only markers of the terrible deed that they all had just committed.
How will this make the world a better place?
He asked the question, eyes pleading towards the sky, but no one answered.
He wasn't even sure he'd expected one.