Initiation:

Initiation

A/N: Just a little something I thought of. What if you couldn't just join the Dante because you were a homunculi? What if she had to do something to prove your worth . . . .

He didn't like the way the big guy and the tall lady were looking at him after Envy had left; it made him feel jittery and self-conscious. He nervously avoided their gazes, examining the red nodes and wires that attached to his back and extended all the way down to his mid-thigh.

Where had Envy gone off to, leaving him with these people? He knew they were supposed to be his new comrades, but their scrutinizing eyes were getting to him, drawing anxiety to his stomach. What if they thought he was too small to be one of them? Too weak? That the shirt he wore made him look like a girl? He wasn't supposed to be intimidated with his new cohorts, but now that he was there in their view, he couldn't help but shy behind his bangs and scratch one of his arms.

The big guy looked creepy with his portly body, lengthy, meaty arms and bulbous nose. His mouth was wide and unsmiling, blank, beady eyes watching him carefully. Wrath was afraid that if he said the wrong thing or something, the man would eat him, swallow him whole.

He was dressed in some sort of black suit, the same bands that went down his own back and legs descending the other man's arms.

The other one, the woman, was rather . . . pretty. Her skin was pale and flawless, thick, obsidian locks of wavy hair streaming down the back of her dark gown.

It was her gaze especially that caused him to fidget. She was eyeing him intently with perceptive, lilac eyes, as if she knew something he didn't. It was mesmerizing . . . like she could see right through him, see what he was, what he used to be, what he could be . . . what he desired.

To be that Elric.

He didn't like it. Not at all.

But . . . if he was going to be a homunculi, if he was going to destroy that loser Edward Elric, he would have to be strong and being frightened of your own teammates was not the way to do it.

And then he laughed to himself, imagining all the battle scars he'd probably given that stupid Fullmetal alchemist already. Well then, more powerful than usual.

So he stared the two other homunculi in the eyes and asked a flat, "What's your deal?"

The stout individual took one last glimpse at him before mumbling, "Oblivious, oblivious . . . ." in an acute tone that seemed so unlikely for him and lumbering off in the opposite direction, shaking his pudgy head.

Wrath watched him leave, cocking his head bemusedly and glancing between the homunculi that had just left and the one standing facing him. "So who're you?"

A half-hearted smile, so small that he could hardly see it at first, graced her full, plum-colored lips. "I am Lust. And the one that just left . . . that was Gluttony."

"I'm Wrath," he said timidly, uncomfortable with her voice. It was so low and breathy, but . . . velvety and soft at the same time. It dulled his senses, causing him to sway on his feet a little. He sensed she didn't talk a lot.

Lust averted her eyes for a moment, crossing her black-sleeved arms. "Oh, I know."

Subsequently, he didn't know what to say next, rocking awkwardly on his heels and clucking his tongue. "Oh."

He watched her trace the fingers of one hand contemplatively through her hair, her eyes lowered in seeming thought, which still didn't give him a reason to speak.

But he did, anyway, not standing the silence. "When are we gonna destroy that dumb, Fullmetal Alchemist? Are we gonna get the Philosopher's Stone soon?" He paused when she still didn't respond. "I am with you guys now, right? As a-"

"No." Her tone was sharp, stern, and he was a bit surprised to see her looking at him again.

Astonishment and slight anger edged his voice as he glared bravely back at her. "Whaddaya mean 'no?' Envy told me I was one of you! Envy told me I was to join you!" Something akin to despair clutched at his chest. What if he couldn't kill Edward now, if he wasn't with them? What if he never got his body? "He told me so! He told me so! He told m-!"

"Well, it seems Envy left some important parts out." Lust's arms were uncrossed, eyes narrowed irritably. "Didn't he?"

Wrath blinked. What was she talking about? What was he to know? "Um, I don't . . . ?"

She began to walk briskly away from him, coolly trailing her fingers along the walls and he took the cue to follow. "Did you seriously assume you were just going to join us because you were a homunculus, boy?"

He didn't answer, only struggled in keeping up with her, wondering what she was on about.

"Did you really figure that, or is that what Envy told you? Or did he not tell you?"

She whirled around to face him, spitting, "Answer me, child!"

"Umm . . . . I guess?"

Lust was practically grinding her teeth to dust, something the boy sensed was probably atypical for her. She was muttering like a madwoman, too, thin eyebrows slanted angrily.

"You're a child," she hissed, nostrils flaring. "A child. A homunculus child . . . . I can't imagine someone would . . . and then I have to . . . the-the . . . ." She was sort of sputtering now, but ended it off in a growl that sounded a lot like "Gender-confused Jealousy."

And then, slowly, she turned to him, her cool composure seeming to have returned, her voice rigid. "Wrath . . . Envy did inform you regarding . . . what Dante has us do in order to confirm our loyalty, correct?"

She's using big words . . . . But Wrath did recognize the word 'Envy' and 'Dante' and 'loyalty' and realized that nothing that had come out of Envy's mouth had had those words sharing a sentence or anything similar.

"No." The word was slow out of his mouth . . . tense, as if he half expected Lust to explode with his answer.

Her eyes had darkened noticeably at his reply, face in a scowl, as she broodingly ran the gloved fingertips of one hand over her bottom lip.

"No," she repeated frostily. "Well, this alters things . . . ."

"Alters?" Wrath was dying to know what she meant. "What's the matter?"

His concern appeared to irritate her even more. "The matter is that Envy failed to mention the initiation in which Dante advises we undergo."

"Initiation?"

"Stop repeating everything I say."

"How come you're so crabby? Envy told me you were the 'cool, calm and collected' one of whatever outfit. You're sure you're Lust and not the one called Sloth, or something?"

She instantly stiffened. "Just come with me."

The halls were eerily dark as she led him through them, only lit with several candles that hung to the side of a few walls. It was as if nobody inhabited the large, Dublith mansion, even though Wrath knew at least two people were in there with them at the moment.

"Hey, Lust?"

"Yes?" It was nearly a scoff, heated with irritation and causing Wrath wince slightly.

"This Dante lady . . . she's the one who's gonna make us humans after we help her, right?"

The echoing clack of her heels eased a bit as she slowed, huffing a slow breath through her nostrils. "I . . . yes."

"What do we have to do to help her?" He was having a hard time catching up to her. Every one of her steps matched two of his.

"Anything she says." There had been something odd in Lust's tone when she'd said that, her voice strained and high. "To help her become immortal."

"Immortal?"

"If you continue to re . . . ." She merely sighed, her sentence trailing away.

They then reached the front entrance's doors, Lust thrusting them open with a hefty shove, the late afternoon air wafting through Wrath's nose. In fact, it was practically dusk, the sun resting low between the many plants and hedges of the garden that inhabited the yard.

Wrath was relived to be outdoors. Inside had been stuffy, even though it was large, seeming ancient and anomalous . . . .

The lazy breeze had a familiar scent, like nature, though he didn't know why it felt so recognizable . . . as if he'd been out in the night air many times.

Behind her, she could hear the child (he was still a child, wasn't he?) releasing a small, delighted giggle, though she noted the slight confusion in his voice, unconsciously grazing her tongue along her bottom lip.

He was thankful to get out of the house. She could tell, to the way he'd been awkward inside, to the little spring in his step as he curled pale toes over the grass.

She could vaguely recall longing to escape the mansion, herself, back when . . . when she'd been acquainted to Envy with him kneeling down beside her in a room in . . . in Ishval, red stones glistening in his palms. He'd fed her a sufficient amount so that she'd grown a human enough shape, traveling back to Dublith with her where she'd met the feigningly sweet, old Dante.

Master.

Did she deserve to be dubbed as such?

All she ever did was hoard them in her mansion for all the years that she hadn't quite a use for them. The homunculi. She never let them free, never let them out, never gave them the chance . . . to act the least bit human.

Lust snorted inwardly at the thought, blinking slowly her eyes, lashes softly brushing her cheeks.

She was strong. So awfully invincible that it disgusted her at times, untouchable, while the humans were vulnerable and weak. So why did she . . . yearn to be one of them? She let herself bleed, rather than be healed instantaneously by her red stones, and she figured she did that so . . . so she could feel the slightest bit human.

But humanity was incompetent, ignorant fools with absurd desires such as . . . as immortality.

Just like . . . .

She would feel unfaithful if she uttered that woman's name, as vile as she was.

Because perhaps . . . that very woman would make her desires come true.

Perhaps she could be human and be free, released from her sin of a name, let go of the expectations and orders that Dante had for all of them.

Free was such a pleasant thought . . . so pleasant that it seemed impossible . . . that it ached.

"Hey, Lust? Whatcha thinking about? Envy told me you're always zoning out like this."

His voice had startled her, her head snapping around to face him and his curious gaze, dark locks sprawling across her colorless shoulders.

And Wrath.

She thought it such a disgraceful thing to try a human transmutation on a child. What person would actually do that to someone so young? Turn them into abominations at such a tender age? A slave? Why would Dante want him as one of her . . . henchmen? Why had she ordered Envy to feed him the red stones? He could have still been innocent . . . a naive child. He was so oblivious of what was to come, what he would be exposed to and expected to do . . . .

She wondered why he hadn't asked about the initiation yet.

"Envy assumes he knows me well, doesn't he?" She crossed her arms, violet eyes of a soft color observing him carefully.

"Well, yeah." She could hear him hustling to catch up with her as she crossed a street. "He told me he found you."

"He did." The memories were conjured again and she remembered how awful, how agonizing it had been to be first born in a chalk transmutation circle. Her limbs had been grotesque and slow, her body a slimy black color as her artificial heart thudded weakly. Every movement had hurt.

She'd been so confused.

"He also took me on this very same initiation, some two-hundred-and-something years ago."

She listened to him inhale a sharp breath as they reached the sidewalk. "Really? You're old, Lust."

Didn't she know it.

"Dante's older."

"Dante . . . ." He was thinking, she could tell, at the way he lazily stretched her name out. "What . . . initiation am I supposed to do?"

Lust's back grew rigid. There it was. That one, dreadful question. Well, of course it hadn't been awful when the others had asked it to her; she was the one to show them their commencement now, as Dante had said that Envy was too important to be babysitting and showing the new homunculi around. It was her job now, as the second oldest.

Envy hadn't seemed the least bit fazed when she'd asked what the initiation was all about either. It didn't surprise her now, though; Envy was . . . sadistic.

And she was never particularly deterred either with having to tell.

But Wrath was a child. And to have to order him to do something so gruesome . . . .

She glanced up at the sky. It was dark. The sun was gone, and in its place a shimmering moon. The streetlamps were lit and humans were now scarce on the streets.

Swallowing thickly, she realized that this had to be fast. Dante was impatient was would surely be wanting them back soon. "You have to eliminate at least three human beings tonight . . . by hand."

It was blunt and emotionless, yet she wanted to see his expression, pausing to lean against a nearby building.

Wrath's head was down as if considering the situation, dark hair half obscuring his face. "You . . . want me to kill humans?" His childish voice had pitched high toward the end of his question, although he didn't sound at all surprised.

Her voice was low and hushed, a warning for him to lower his as she muttered, "Dante wants you to. To prove your loyalty." Then, more earnestly, "Will you kill for her? Are you willing to become her homunculus?"

She wasn't sure why she'd asked. He didn't have a choice by all means. Dante would indisputably dispose of him if he refused, the ignorant child.

"I . . . I have to, don't I?" Small fists were clenched. "I have to defeat Elric. I have to become a human."

She blinked. It hadn't been like that with her, not at all. She'd taken life without a question. It was all she knew, all Envy had talked about back then . . . about the thrill and the ecstasy of murder.

"Did you hear me, Wrath?" It was important that he understood what was in the balance. "I said 'by hand.' Which specifically means by your hands. You . . . cannot . . . use your alchemy."

It was a rule. They could not use any of the gifts that their "Master" had presented them with. Maybe it was some other form of demonstrating their devotion, or maybe it was just to be cruel, but they absolutely had to perform the annihilation by hand.

"No alchemy?" It was a hissed gasp, his chest stammering in visible shock as he stared down into his different-complexioned palms. "Like, none at all? I can't use anything? Just my hands?"

She was a little taken aback at how upset he seemed. "Yes, just your hands. It's Dante's rule and you must follow it through and through if you wish to work for her."

Wrath appeared to be biting back a tantrum, ignoring the people that were giving them inquiring glances as they passed by, the nosy humans.

"So you're telling me that when you did this with Envy, you didn't even use your freaky fingers?"

Lust sighed softly, tilting her head back to glare at the moon. Why was Wrath making this so difficult? Of course she had been expecting it- he was still a child, homunculus or not, and would always be exasperatingly probing, but . . . it was hard to deal with him, to be ordered to make him do this.

It had been so particularly uncomplicated with Greed, Gluttony, Pride, and even Sloth, but it was certainly because of their adult-like appearances. They all had been adults when they were transmuted, but Wrath was not, so . . . she guessed it was best to be patient with him.

"No, I didn't use them," she murmured, glancing around to realize that the humans were even scantier. "I was not permitted to." She motioned to him to get move on and was irritated when he chose to disregard her.

"So how did you kill off your humans?"

She brushed him off as well, despite how grim the question was. "I might just tell you after you kill yours."

Wrath pouted and followed her anyway along the sidewalk that led to an alley. Lust had always guided the homunculi to slay in an alley, a place dark and secluded between two buildings, somewhere easy to leave a body lying around.

They ducked into the confined space, littered with trash and stained with mold.

"It smells gross in here," Wrath complained, his voice altering as he pinched his nose.

She paid him no attention, telling him to wait for the first person to pass by before jumping out to grab them and drag them in to kill them.

She waited in silence with him for several minutes, poking him with extended fingernails whenever he muttered that "this whole thing is stupid" or that Dante was stupid.

He must not call her stupid.

He was so annoyingly uninformed.

And then there was a woman, blonde, striding by cheerily while pushing a little bundle in a carriage, smiling down at it, and Lust noticed Wrath stiffening, eyes glazed with anxiety.

She nudged him with an elbow, whispering, "Go on, Wrath."

He took a tentative step forward, the bare part of his feet causing a scraping sound along the pavement. He seemed to cringe at his own noise, freezing up all over again.

"Wrath," she hissed, crossing her arms. "Edward Elric will not kill himself, you know."

His expression changed noticeably then, his very name overtaking his face as his fingers curled to fists. She watched him dart out of the passageway with inhuman speed, sweeping a tan-legged kick across one side of the woman's head.

The woman fell onto her side, a small gasp escaping her lips as he hit the concrete, Wrath entangling his fingers in her hair as he dragged her into the alley.

She was screaming now, her arm outstretched toward the small carriage as she called a name- "James!" -over and over again.

"So . . . what am I supposed to do now? Just . . . stab her through the heart, or something?" Wrath's voice was nearly a laugh, his hands still gripping the blonde locks. At his words, the woman began to tug and writhe in his grip, yelling for someone to help her.

Lust shrugged, studying his face. "Anything you want."

Wrath shrugged also, kneeling on the ground beside the young lady and plowed a fist into her nose. There was a snapping noise, as if her nose had broken, and blood streamed from her nostrils. Her shrieks ceased abruptly as she coughed, blood speckling around her mouth.

The younger homunculus chuckled cynically. "Well, that sure shut you up."

And then he plowed his fingers into her stomach, a heavy wheeze drawing from her throat. "J-James . . . ." The women's eyes were still on the carriage at the edge of the alley.

Lust tracked her gaze, frowning. The bundle must of been her infant child or something.

Blood began to puddle around her and Wrath stood up, his own belly stained with blood, as well as his knees.

His smirk was wide and toothy, malicious, as if he was delighted with himself, something that slightly disturbed her, as he'd been so timid moments before.

And then . . . the baby began to wail, a stressed, pitchy cry, chubby arms reaching up to paw at the air.

The woman was still panting faintly on the ground, tears streaking her pale face.

Lust had opened her mouth, about to advise Wrath to hurry and finish her off, as she wasn't allowed to bleed to death because it would mean that he hadn't killed her.

But Wrath's whole malevolent façade had shattered, his face horrified and angry, palms clamped over his ears. "Shut up!"

Lust blinked, brushing a wisp of hair from her eyes. "Wrath, what's the-"

"Shut up!" He . . . he was sobbing now, fingers knotted into his hair, bawling through his teeth. "Shut it up! Make it be quiet!"

The woman was merely staring at him, her eyes darting to glimpse at the screaming baby in the carriage as she uttered two words: "My child . . . ." She was fading rapidly, nearly dead, her clothes completely saturated with blood.

Lust backed off of the wall, narrowing lavender eyes. "Kill her, Wrath!"

"It's yours?" Wrath shouted, leaping right onto the female's chest, hands wrapping around her throat. "Then you make it stop! You make it shut up!" He bashed her head on the concrete. "Shut it up!"

The woman died then, with Wrath's hands around her throat, his tears staining her face. "Make it stop crying! Make it be quiet! Shut it uuuuuuup!"

Even after she was dead, he curled into a ball on her body while Lust watched in astonishment.

Why was he responding so . . . hysterically toward a crying infant? What did it matter if it was weeping?

"M-m-m-make it hush, Lust," he whimpered feverishly, his voice muffled. "Please. Please! I don't wanna hear it. I don't! I don't!"

Perhaps it was one of his . . . weaknesses? One of his fatalities? Was that it? A little one's howls?

If so, then she had better mute it.

"Kill it, Wrath."

His fists uncoiled and he coughed, "I can't."

She huffed out of her nose. "Get up and don't miss your chance!"

"I can't!"

"If Edward Elric decides to cry like a baby while you beat him to a pulp, is this how you would react?"

She snorted when she noticed him on his knees already. "No."

Her arms crossed again, her fingernails drumming lazily on one bicep. "Then eliminate your target."

Wrath lurched unsteadily to his feet, his breaths in deep rasps as he heaved his body forward, his grin almost predatory.

From her position in the darkness, Lust couldn't see exactly what Wrath had done to the child while leaning over the cart, but she did hear the clear choke as the babe's breath died away and see the blood on Wrath's fingers when he turned back to her.

He was examining his fingertips, sniffing at the red substance before giving a hesitant lick, and then a wide, wicked smirk. She nearly gasped with how similar to Envy's it was.

"You know what, Lust?" His tone was contemptuous and hidden of all the usual childish innocence.

She exhaled softly, knowing that it was done, that the former Wrath was gone, and in its place just a homunculus with the body of a young boy. Wrath was tainted, his purity vanished, and was all Dante wanted now. This was what this game was all about. They couldn't just be homunculi, failed human transmutations that she had picked up from around someplace. They had to be hers, her minions, her followers, her worshippers.

Her assassins.

"Yes, Wrath?" Her gaze was focused on the yellowish moon so that she wouldn't have to see his face, wouldn't have witness his lips form the appalling sentence that was about to come next. They always said the same thing after they tasted blood. All six of them had.

"Blood tastes just like red stones."

She tore off a piece of fabric from the bottom hem of her dress and handed it to him so that he could transmute a coat to cover the blood on his body with it. "I know." She took him by the shoulder and steered him out of the alley. "There's still another one to kill."

She was seated on the edge of her bed, arms folded just under her breasts as she stared on at nothing in particular. It was what she did after an initiation session: just reflect on what had happened and how it had gone.

She and Wrath had returned to the mansion some two hours ago after he'd murdered a third human, Wrath heading upstairs after she'd recommended he take a shower while she'd go over how things had gone with Dante.

Seeing her in her new body was . . . abysmal and she found herself struggling to look her in the eyes the whole whilst she talked.

"He . . . he gets utterly upset when an infant begins to wail." Lust could recall the cruel twinkle that had glittered within Dante's eyes after she had spilled that information.

"Oh? Well, that should be useful."

"And he's different now." Her throat had strangely constricted at speaking that sentence. "No longer naïve, just as you requested."

Dante had leaned back in her chair, smiling coldly. "Thank you, Lust. You've done well for now. You may carry out whatever you'd like for the rest of the night."

Lust would have liked to kill Envy, watch him heal, and then kill him again for not informing the new recruit of the initiation like he usually did, but was too . . . fatigued in a way, to seek him out.

So instead, she had retreated to her room, expecting to see Wrath entering in a few minutes. They always came to her later after the initiation to talk . . . for a reassurance of some sort because they would be . . . scared and ashamed at what they had done earlier.

Dante had told her not to really encourage them, just tell them what they had done was right, that it was the right thing to do because all humans were narcissistic and vindictive and rude.

Dante wanted her to lie.

But of course, Dante had obviously also told that to Envy after he took her on her initiation, so she . . . she had been lied to as well.

Her door suddenly opened with grating noise at it scraped along the floor, a cautious, tanned leg stepping forward as a hesitant voice called, "Lust? Can I . . . can I talk to you?"

There he was. Right on time, as well as predicted. She crossed her legs, nodding slightly. "Sure."

Wrath ambled into the room, his eyes on the ground. "Did . . . did I do bad, Lust? Because that's how I feel . . . ."

It . . . it would hurt her to lie to him, hurt her more than when she'd lied to the others. She wanted to feel pity towards him, wanted to let her eyes soften for him, but she couldn't let her façade drop.

Or else Dante would be angry.

"You shouldn't be feeling remorse for the humans, Wrath. They are the ones who made us this way and we should despise them for their selfish ignorance. They're dirty swines, avaricious and warm to only those of their own race. Humans are no friends of ours, Wrath, and it's an absolute honor to get to kill one, don't you agree?"

The expression on his face . . . he was so convinced so quickly, so easily manipulated that it made her feel the slightest bit ashamed.

Oh, how she wished to be free . . . free of the lies and dishonesty, free of Dante . . . perhaps even more than her longing to be human . . . .

A/N: Possibly my longest one-shot ever, lol. 16 pages. I hope you enjoyed this, you guys. I had a lot of fun writing this and I was a lot of work. I found this whole initiation idea interesting, as well as the fact that Lust was in charge of them and her relationship with Envy.

Maybe . . . if Wrath ever read how Lust was feeling in this, he'd understand why she was a traitor . . . .

Plus, I didn't really know the order of which the 2003 homunculi were created, except that Envy was first and that Sloth was sixth and Wrath seventh in working for Dante. Lust was second in the manga and in Brotherhood, so I just . . . made her second in here, too. Hope you don't mind.

Please review and tell me what you think! XD