Chapter 1: The Fallen Theory
"Theories are just silly explanations made by humans that never solve anything."
Murder, the 8th sin
My orange eyes glowed and a soft, hellish fire flared out of his eyes if I was Hades. Being unnoticed that from the alchemists developing me from a dead carcass to the left of myself, I knew I used to be him. In a hoping manner, this being will be mass cloned for a renegade army to chase after extremists and the upcoming event for war against the Ishbalans. I observed his environment, "What's the point of being here?" I soon decided it was time to break free. The clone caused great freak accidents that the alchemists couldn't get a hold of him. I broke through and drew his sharp steel claws, and tore through each body like tissue paper. I drifted as a phantom and consumed the carcass as his frame for a body. I was now a second generation. "It's about time that we have a newer generation of homunculi. It sure has been a hell of a long time."
I wasn't any ordinary warrior madman; I lived for the sin of murder. I soon enough called himself Murder. I wore a black, ancient Greek helmet, black camouflage field jacket with the same pattern of his jeans, a black T-shirt, and automail arms and legs. Murder was not like any sin before him or any like him; he was a godlike creature. But his cost was a decomposed body held with the Philosopher's Stone as his blood, he grew a tattoo that Ouroboros that surrounded the symbols of the Trinity, the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. It included a swastika, a signet of his power. I was hell on wheels.
I sighed knowing there is no use of being here so he grew into a shadow and drifted around the dark room. I walked carefully out of the cloning room of laboratory #5 watching for traps and other defense mechanisms in the deactivated site. I soon heard repetitive footsteps of charging guardsmen. I simply smiled; all I did was morph into the legendary war hero, Lieutenant general Ajax of South Central City. The parading squad halted immediately at the look of the famous revolutionary. "Look, it's the lieutenant general!" the leading sergeant exclaimed.
"Yes…I'm glad you noticed. Now I wish to be escorted back to Central." I ordered. I thought quickly, "It's true. Many humans don't think these days. I'm glad that they are so foolish."
Murder, or the so-called Lt. General Ajax, walked into the Fuhrer's room without a knock or a simple 'hello.' Pride turned his head towards the tall, lumbering figure. He knew it was Murder. "Close the door and show yourself. I know you are new to this shell, Murder." Pride ordered.
"Of course, Pride," I morphed back to his regular state, "I'm glad you noticed. I shouldn't really grow out of this skin; it has been very dependable."
"Good to see that, Old One."
"Yes, it has…is there anything for me to do in this hellhole?"
"You are watching over Juliet Douglas…I'm not exactly-"
"Wait, that son of a bitch is watching over the Ishbalans. He is not a stable person with the 5th regiment.
"Let me finish. Just watch over him. Don't let him do anything hostile to the civilians, otherwise-" Pride whispered the rest in the Old One's ear.
"Ah. Well put together. I'll definitely do this task. Its about time that I exercise the devil's work."