The Wages of Sin
Prologue: A Soul Apart from Time
The southwestern borders of Amestris weren't nearly as prosperous as the country's other regions: battles were constantly being fought throughout the area as the dispute between Amestris and its two neighbors, Creta and Aerugo, continued to escalate. "Border skirmishes" the State Military called them. To the victims of the miniature war, soldier and civilian alike, they were far more than that. Life was growing increasingly difficult for the people as city after city became a garrison for armies. The Fuhrer, after all, was only concerned with suppressing and subduing the opposition- not improving the region's condition.
Yet the situation was all too perfect for a certain two member family. It was becoming painfully obvious to them that the military forces in the area had their hands full holding the allied armies away- they both knew quite well that this was the place for their campaign to begin. The preparations that had spanned an arduous quarter-century were now complete.
The brown haired man chuckled. He liked to think the family had seven members in actuality. Bored with admiring the sunset, he turned about and made his way across the rooftop to the stairwell that led to the warehouse below. The empty sleeves of his maroon coat swayed in the breeze as the thirty-nine year old man passed from the orange-red light of late evening into the musty, ill-lit air of the abandoned depot. Running a gloved hand over the stairs' dust-ridden guard rail as he descended, the man went over the details of how this situation came to be, as if playing over an old record…
His name? Marlo. His age? Thirty-nine… though that wasn't entirely true. In fact, a closer estimate would be four-hundred forty. He had inhabited about four bodies before this one: through alchemy and the power of the Philosopher's Stone, he was able to transfer his soul from body to body. Just as Dante did- he already knew this. And Hohenheim- how he loathed him. He was to blame for all of his troubles, no doubt…
That was enough. Passing through a threshold, Marlo arrived in a much cleaner, well-lit chamber. Awaiting him were two younger men: one, whose hair was black and cut short, was of twenty-nine years; the other, whose hair was black but extended into strands over his face and was covered by a black top hat, was of twenty-six. Or at least he appeared to be: Marlo understood that this being was much younger than he seemed.
"Father," the younger of the two addressed Marlo politely, "Despair suggested he go retrieve the new homunculus that has been sighted around Central and the areas west of there." The young man's black eyes shifted toward the man in the suit and top hat, who stood next to him.
"Is this true?" Marlo's voice was deep yet mellow, a faint hint of amusement in its words. "If I remember correctly, you are to be held responsible for the existence of a created human in that area, Despair."
"Correct," the suited homunculus identified as Despair chimed in, tipping his hat forward with a hand gloved in white. "I would like to leave as soon as convenient." Unlike the other two, his tone was cheerful yet had an added mischievousness that almost seemed sinister.
"Very well," the oldest of the three sighed, walking between the other two on his way across the room. "Leave as soon as you are ready." The two other men pivoted and followed after Marlo in perfect unison only machines could surpass. Their leader's piercing black eyes shifted to his left, in the direction of the group's youngest member- his son.
"What of Deceit?" he inquired in a concerned tone, "I want her back in Hanz at once."
The black-haired young man cast his equally black gaze on his father's back, responding, "Last I heard, she was still finishing up business in Creta." His expression seemed forlorn; it was likely the twenty-year old had something on his mind. "She should return in a few days."
A pleased smirk graced Marlo's features. Deceit was the only person he could entrust with a job like the one she was returning from, save for perhaps his own son. After all, Deceit had been created after his late wife. Even if it was a soulless creation, it was somewhat comforting to have her living replica as a follower.
The three approached a door at the chamber's end; extending a single gloved hand, Marlo moved to open it. All of it would be set in motion soon. With these tools- the artificial humans he had named in mockery of Dante's servants- he would wipe out Hohenheim Elric and all that was dear to him. Only then could he finally convince Dante to return to him.
Marlo slowly twisted the doorknob, opening the rusted door to reveal a small, empty chamber. The group entered, closing the door behind. A gas lantern that hung from the ceiling was the only source of light within the miniature room. Seconds passed in silence as a second, iron door slowly crept over the entryway. Despair, in his usual, whimsical mood, couldn't help but tap his silver-handled cane in unison with the mechanism as the safety gate clicked into place.
"Very good," Marlo's amused voice interrupted the lingering quiet as the chamber- a crude elevator- descended into the depths of the structure.