Ch. 1

Why did this have to happen?

Why here of all places?

How could it happen?

Who could have caused this?

How can it be fixed?

Who can fix it?

Will we be able to keep the public's gaze and attention off of this?

Will we have to exterminate them all?

Roy Mustang leaned forward and lowered his forehead onto his folded hands. All of these questions were ones that a briefing from HQ told him needed to be answered. Any and all of them. Within a week. He sighed loudly and threw his head back against the frame of the train seat. He should be back at his apartment. Sleeping. Then in a few hours be heading back to his office to fill out mountains of paperwork and get threatened by his gorgeous subordinate and her gun.

Orders were orders, however, and Roy looked around the train car at his fellow soldiers. There five of them—himself, then there was 2nd Lieutenant Matthews, Master Sargent Locke, Major Jefeers, and Corporal Thompson. As his gaze met each one of them, he inwardly cursed at the men he now commanded. Locke and Thompson may have had lower ranks than the others, but they were definitely stronger and more stubborn. Locke especially was stronger and more brutish, nearly kneeing Roy in the stomach when he had suggested they all try and introduce themselves, followed by a monotone "Why should we have to introduce ourselves? We all know that you couldn't give a damn about your men. Isn't that right, Mister Roy Mare?"

Roy shut his eyelids and let his bangs fall over his face. His neck still hurt from where the man had grabbed him and held him above the ground. If not for the other men taking Roy's side, he wouldn't be on this train. He'd be on one heading to Central for emergency care. Aside from Locke, Roy didn't dislike the others, but he so wished they were men he had chosen himself. At least then he could trust his life with them and know they would protect it, and him theirs. But these men… Ugh, the only one he actually knew was Matthews, and that's only because he shared the same lunch table with him. Why his superiors picked these men was anyone's guess.

Especially Locke.

Why did they pick Locke?

Why on EARTH did they pick Locke!?

Colonel Mustang slumped in his seat, shifting his posture to avoid the embarrassing numbness that came with sitting on hard metal frames. He scooted over closer to the window and watched as the dark black forms outside blurred past. He looked up at the sky and rested his chin in his hand. So many stars… Far more than there were visible in East City, he knew that much. A perfectly clear night. Not a cloud in the sky, and the crescent moon waning above them.

He thought it a shame that such a beautiful night had to be shared by the inhabitants of the town they were now heading to. Mustang reached back to the files that sat across from him and he reread the mission to himself.

"Roughly two weeks ago, in the small southern city of Limixi, a distress call came from a retired soldier. The man [who shall remain anonymous] told reports of people disappearing from their homes only to have them either taken over by grotesque monstrosities or left abandoned. Our records show the first two reports were ignored by officials in the area and he was presumed ill-minded. The third report however, caught their attention, as screaming could be heard in the background and the anon. man was crying begging for help to come.

"When officials arrived in Limixi, they were indeed met with unnatural creatures roaming the streets and homes. They either hid in the shadows or tried to approach them. The officers headed to the man's home and found another creature harboring itself in his home. It uttered a sound familiar to a human's voice, but it could not form words. After minutes of investigating the city, the men discovered that the creatures were in fact results of an illegal practice of alchemy [for def. of alchemy and its uses, see pg. 24] and that they had once been human in all respects.

"However, whether or not these creatures [alchemic definition-chimera] were human, some were more so than others. One officer was slain by a serpent-like chimera and many others acted like wild animals.

"Missions A-C failed to uncover the methods and/or person(s) used to change the city, and the military has received no contact whatsoever from said missions or their members. Mission D is to follow the same objective and answer the following questions/tasks within the week's end:"

Blah, blah, blah, I know… Roy shut the file and ruffled his hair. He took out his pocket watch and looked at its face. 5:58. Another 20 minutes until they reached the Senma train station and then get on the truck waiting for them to have ANOTHER hour of driving until they reached Limixi.

He rolled his eyes and looked back out the window. The sky was slightly lighter now, meaning that it wouldn't be too long until it was day time, and that he and his team would be investigating the town... Without any sleep to be had.

Oh yeah.

This was definitely going to be fun for him.

There was a reason Roy lived in the city. He hated nature. Not nature itself, but he did hate nature when you just wanted a nice smooth road to ride a truck in. But no, God hated him, so he gave them a tiny beat up truck that barely seated them all, sent them on an hour long drive in the spring sun, in a deep forest area, with no roads to ease their way through, made them pass through a tiny stream that sent swarms of bugs and mud into the vehicle, and to top it all off, Roy had to sit squished against Locke. Yup. God really did hate him.

Roy started to shift in his seat and suddenly found himself in the air as the truck passed over a tree root and down into a small ditch. He scowled as his men all failed to suppress their laughter upon seeing their commander face down, rump in the air, on the floor of the vehicle. He started to pick himself up when he felt a strong force meet said backside and he was thrust against the wall of the truck. The laughter grew especially loud, and Roy took notice to the main men laughing were Locke and Thompson.

Of course they are.

Roy again started to get up, but another bump on the trail threw him up then down hard to the floor. He held back a choked whimper. God must be toying with me… He gave up trying to return to his seat and he turned his back to the wall and sat cross-legged on the floor. If looks could kill, Locke and Thompson would definitely be dead, reanimated, then shot repeatedly in the cranium. Everyone else would probably just be dead. Maybe Matthews would live, as Roy noted he was looking sympathetically at him with a sad smile. It was as if they were speaking without words.

"Sorry, but they were too quick."

"You could've at least helped me up…"

"And risk getting beat up by Locke too? Sorry, but I pass."

"Bastard."

"I said I was sorry!"

They broke their silent conversation and Roy shut his eyes as he laid his head against the jumpy frame of the truck. He was definitely going to court martial Locke when they returned to East City. At the moment however there were more pressing matters. He sighed and looked at his watch and saw it was actually past the time when their estimated arrival to the town would be. He looked up to his men and they all (including Locke) grew silent as his expression showed the confused and wary nature that he was now in. They all turned to the front of the vehicle and Thompson rapped against the window.

"Hey!" he yelled in his deep smoker's voice, "What's takin' us so long?"

But there was no response. He hit the window harder. "HEY! ANSWER ME, DAMNIT!" Again, there was no answer. Roy stumbled to the window and peered through it to look at the driver. "What the hell…?" he muttered.

"What? What is it, sir?" Jefeers inquired, a slight tremble met his fingers as he adjusted his uniform. Roy shut his eyes shut for a few breaths then looked through the glass again, hands cupped around his face. "But that's… How in the…?" Locke grabbed Roy by his sleeve and yanked him down to be eye level. "Stop your muttering and spill! What's wrong up there?" Roy reached down for his ignition gloves.

"We don't have the same driver we left with… Someone else is driving us to the town." All but Matthews and Roy breathed a sigh of relief. "Ya had us goin' there, Mr. Colonel! For a minute there it seemed somethin' was wrong!" Roy glared at Thompson. "Are you really that daft, Corporal?" "Hey, what'd you say?" the man growled, raising his chest slightly. Roy pointed his hand to the window, poised to snap. "Piece it together. We left with M.P. Rogers, correct? And only him?"

Everyone suddenly grew silent.

They all reached for their respective weapons, be them knives, guns, Roy's gloves, or Locke's fists. Roy took a slow breath and began to snap his fingers. A loud screeching startled everyone and threw them against the front frame of the truck. Roy especially felt the force of the sudden stop and couldn't help a rather shrill shriek escaping his mouth as he had his head slammed into the glass, leaving a crack in it. He fell back to the floor, and as a small trickle of blood oozed from his temple he felt himself being lifted only slightly and heard faint, far off, distorted voices.

Everything was blurred out of focus and dimming with every heartbeat. He made sure to take note of the last few things he saw and heard. And right before he passed out, he felt his insides freeze from horror as the sight before him faded away.

Matthews standing above him with a knife being pulled across Jefeers' neck, his scream garbled by the blood that now rained upon Roy's limp body.

Locke and Thompson were somewhere outside, the sounds of punches and moans easily heard, though not from the soldiers.

And Roy's own pitiful whimper that tried to reach out for help as he faded away.

Roy gasped and his eyes shot open. He had to quickly shut them as he nearly screamed form the pain of the blinding sunlight that poured into them. He tried to shield his eyes with his hands, but he felt only a harsh strain as he tried. He squinted away from the light and looked down at himself. He was covered in dirt, probably dragged around the woods to where ever here was.

He tried to move his hands again, but they were once more stuck behind him, though now he noticed the distinct chings and clanks that came with moving handcuffs. He sighed heavily. And leaned his head back to the hard stone floor he was laying on.

Of course he was in handcuffs. He paused. He ran his thumb over his palm and fingers.

Of course he was handcuffed.

And OF COURSE they took his gloves from him.

"Damnit… Well, there goes my brilliant escape plan," he mumbled to himself. He tried to ease his way up into a sitting position and suddenly felt his body go limp and his head spun. He froze and tried to control his breathing. "Damn relapses…" he cursed as his head argued with his wish to move. The man slowly shuffled his body around the floor as he tried to sit up. Once he was sitting upright he stopped moving for a moment, sweat gathered on his head and upper lip.

After recovering from his painful attempts of movement, Roy slowly scanned the room he was being held captive in. He noticed that the sun that was blaring in the room was actually coming from a window in the rounded ceiling. Off of many of the pillars there were lavishing satin curtains and gorgeous paintings of landscapes. He also took notice of the many statues that guarded the walls, watching him, like guard dogs. He looked down at a more level area and saw Locke and Thompson.

They too were handcuffed.

Roy growled softly. This wasn't good. He may have hated these two, but there was no denying they were some of the strongest men he had commanded aside from Fullmetal and Armstrong…

Fullmetal… He both felt sorrow and annoyance when he thought of his little subordinate. He was sure he was doing fine, he always took care of himself and his brother well, but the parental side of Roy always kicked in whenever something dangerous was going on. Though, now, the danger was happening to him, not Edward. And if something were to happen to Roy that resulted in his death, he knew it would hurt everyone, but especially Edward. The two had a strange sort of friendship; one that border-lined best friendship, and official business.

Of course, them being friends meant if Roy DID make it out of this alive, the shrimp would never let him hear the end of it. He hung his head. He had to get out of here, though. He looked back up to his sleeping soldiers. There was some blood splattered on Thompson's uniform, though it didn't appear to be his. Roy looked over at Locke and he actually felt himself wince.

He did NOT look good.

"Doesn't feel so good, does it, Sargent?" Roy muttered to himself, both feeling guilty for saying it but also feeling glee for the fact the fact karma had officially been returned to the brute. Still, Roy's version of karma was a lot less physical than this had been. Suddenly the man shifted as he struggled to awaken. Roy held his breath as the man seemed to effortlessly rouse himself into a similar seated position.

Show off…

Locke shook his head, sending some beads of sweat off onto the floor, making it look as though it had rained. Ew… Just… Ew. "Hey. You all right, Sargent Locke?" Roy asked, his voice firm, but noticeably shaken and crackly. He scowled at his own voice. Crap. I sound like a crying kid! He waited for a response from Locke but none came.

"Hey! Sargent!" Roy asked, his throat straining at the louder volume. Still no answer came. Roy felt his insides coil at the silence. "…Locke? You okay, bud?" Locke looked up at Roy and stared.

Mustang sat silent as well. The two stared at each other; both covered in sweat, both handcuffed, both fighting to stay awake and upright. They both knitted their brows, but Roy did so out of analyzing whereas Locke was out of sorrow.

They realized they were both chained to the ground by steel collars that hung off of their necks.

"Tch! Stupid… Stupid… I'm so stupid! How could I not have realized!? GOD, I'm an IDIOT!" Roy doubled over and gritted his teeth out of anger and fear. Locke finally spoke, but his voice was shaky and soft, not the booming voice Roy knew him to have. "What… What's wrong, sir? What's going on?"

Roy looked up at the man through his bangs, his eyes sad. He began trying to free himself of his restraints, but to no avail. "Sir?" Locke pressed him further. Mustang sighed and let his head hang down, covering his face with his hair.

"I'm sorry, Sargent… I'm afraid there's nothing I can do…"

"Well, yes, sir, I understand that, but what's wrong?"

Had it not been such a horrible time, Roy would've had a double-take at how kind Locke was talking to him. He looked over to Thompson and noted how he wasn't gaining consciousness, and even more concerning was the fact he hardly breathed at all. Roy sat up and took a deep breath.

"Sargent Locke, you are aware of our mission's purpose, correct?"

"Well, yes, Colonel Mustang, sir, but what about it? I figure our situation at hand is a tad bit more dire."

Man, Roy really wanted to voice the difference in demeanor that had overtaken Locke. Though, Locke was right, they're current situation was dire. It was so terrifying that Roy had trouble finding the words to tell Locke just how bad off they actually were. "Sir?"

"Well… what about the chimeras reported stood out to you?"

"You mean besides the fact that they're chimeras? Nothing much."

"Nothing at all? How they acted? How they functioned?"

"Well, no, nothing besides that the report filed them as human…like… No. No!

That's impossible! A human can't be turned in to a chimera, right sir!? Please, tell me this isn't what's happening! Please!" Locke pleaded, straining against the tight chain that held him back, nearly causing him to choke from the pressure.

"Unfortunately, I've seen firsthand a human that was transmuted into being a chimera… I was hoping that these reports were just folly by some offhand superior trying to wear us out but…" Roy trailed off, his body slumping. He held back the shaking that was trying to take over his body. Even if he were to die here, or worse, lose his humanity, he would at least do so with pride and honor.

The two men flinched when a loud bang was heard behind them. Roy looked behind Locke (who was now turning around) to see what the sound was. Roy's blood ran cold as a man walked in accompanied by Matthews.

Matthews.

The TRAITOR.

"Well, looks like the queen has come to give us a visit, huh? I should've practiced my bow. Then again…" Roy brought himself up to look less scared than he was. "I suppose bowing wouldn't do me much good being chained to the ground, eh? You sick monsters!" Matthews reached to his side and pulled out a small gun. "I would watch that slick tongue of yours, Mustang." Matthews cocked the pistol. He sneered. "It was so much better when you didn't speak, and it made playing with it so much easier!"

"WHAT?!"

Matthews giggled like a child and it eventually erupted into deafening cackling. Roy stared as the color left from his face. He tasted the inside of his mouth and realized it wasn't right.

"You disgusting, revolting, little piece of-!" he started before being cut off by a loud gunshot that whizzed past him into the wall behind him. "Uh, uh, uh!" Matthews wagged his finger at him. Mustang tensed his muscles even though he knew he had no chance of charging at this violating traitor. His glares did him nothing, so he directed his fury to the man who had entered the room with Matthews.

He looked like an average Joe. He wore some casual pants, a wrinkled shirt (though looking to have been ironed at an earlier time), normal worn-out men's shoes, a simple necklace that held a sort of locket at the end of it, and auburn hair combed back away from his face. Had Roy not felt so revolted and infuriated, he might have thought this man a possible ally or at least an acquaintance.

But the man wore a blank stare that focused on Roy's face and movements. His eyes were a piercing emerald and Roy felt them burn into his own midnight ones. He blinked to shed away some of the tension his muscles were working up in his eyes. This man's gaze never faltered.

It was only when Matthews said something Roy nearly vomited at that the man's eyes flashed away from Roy and toward the 2nd Lieutenant.

"It's more fun when a person's awake, though, trust me I've had plenty of experience. I will admit I've never experienced a half Xingese before, perhaps your body would react more pleasantly than an Amestrian's! What do you say, Roy-Boy? Wanna escape those chains~?" "Mister Matthews."

The man turned to face the emerald-eyed companion he had with him. He swallowed slightly and he felt his fingers tremble from fear. He closed his eyes as he took a breath to speak.

And it was the last breath he ever took.

Roy could hardly believe what he had just witnessed. Blood was everywhere in the area Matthews had just been talking. Blood dripped from the casual man's left hand, the Lieutenant's brain in his grasp. How had he done that?! HOW?! Roy couldn't stop his shaking now and he barely heard Locke's screams of horror as his own heart rang loudly in his head.

"Kindly shut up, Mr. Matthews." The man looked at his hand and smirked as he dropped the oozing grey mass to the floor and slowly stepped on it. Blood and water surrounded the matter in a grotesque puddle. "Thank you, sir." The man took a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped away the blood. "Now then, as you are well aware, Mister Matthews was tiring my patience, as I imagined he did yours."

Roy had seen horrible murders in his life. He had committed some himself back in the war. But this was different. This wasn't about whether or not a person could murder. Not the motive, no, a person who murders doesn't even need a motive.

But the way that this man murdered… It was literally not possible!

"I do hope you aren't horribly shaken up by the little quip we just had there. He was quite the loudmouth as it were…" Roy barred his teeth. He didn't know why, but this guy really made his emotions run high. No, that was a lie, Roy did know why he was so emotional right now.

This man had just murdered another man who (though Roy was very glad he wasn't around anymore) seemed to be in the same league as him. He didn't even look like it bothered him in the slightest. That look he was giving Roy… Roy had never seen that look before.

And it scared him.

It scared him.

He was scared.

So scared.

Scared.

The man made an advance toward the military officers he had chains to the ground with his collar and chains. He inwardly grinned when the blonde man moaned out of fear but his grin vanished when he met the ink haired man's eyes. Oh, this man was terrified but he seemed to be trying to think his way out of this lovely home he had them in. Pity. He wasn't letting his human emotions take over. Oh! Those amused him so. Having lost his human morals and emotions long ago, he found it a nice hobby to study them and try and remember how they had been and what was a good trigger.

But, the studying would have to come later. There was much work to be done. He flicked his wrist and the world froze around him. He walked over behind the blonde and hit the back of his neck, but the form did not move, as it would not until he stopped his accelerated state. He looked over to the presumed unconscious man. He raised a brow when he saw that his eyes had actually opened. Perhaps the large man had awoken him? It did not matter. A hit to the back of the neck would immobilize him.

He began to attack the Colonel but something told him not to. His scientist mind still wanted to test some new methods and this man, with his strong will to live, would be a Godsend for his research. He took a small step behind the man and stopped his fast state of being.

Locke and Thompson screamed and fell limp. Roy could only gaze in horror as he noted the man was no longer in front of them. He felt a pressure behind him and he froze.

"How… Are you doing that?"

The green-eyed man smiled softly, thoroughly creeping Roy out. "Would you like to experience it? The ability to move faster than the eyes can see?" Roy felt his teeth ache from the force he was crushing them with. "NO. I WOULD NOT," he snapped through bared teeth. The man simply shrugged and walked back to the door calmly.

"I will be back in one minute's time. I hope that is enough time to think over your life and pray that your new one will be more than your last." And with that, the man vanished.

Roy stared at the empty space that now filled where the man had been. He suddenly felt his stomach lurch and he retched on to the floor. Tears brimmed his eyes as he vomited what little had in him, and his little team looked at him with sorrowful eyes. Locke more than Thompson. Roy gasped for breath as he felt a trickle of unemotional tears fall down his cheeks. Locke seemed to think they were tears of sorrow or fear because he quickly started rambling apologies.

"Oh, Colonel Mustang, I am so sorry for what I've done! Please, I beg for your forgiveness! I was being stationed out on the front lines to die had this mission not come up and I found it would be better if I could get court martialed or discharged than go fight and kill! I am so sorry for what I've done! Please forgive me sir! Please! I'm so—" "Damnit Locke, shush!" Locke paused.

"I'm not mad at you, Sargent, and I'm not holding a grudge at all…" Roy coughed as the acid burned his throat and he noticed the once termed 'brute' was crying tears of joy. He wasn't a bad guy at all, thought Roy, though I do wish he could've at least gotten to say goodbye to his friends and family.

He looked over to Thompson who, to put bluntly, looked very confused but also well aware of the murderous man's statement. He nodded a silent goodbye to Roy and Roy returned it. All three sat up and closed their eyes. Roy took one last look at these men.

At least they weren't his because if they were he would be crying for real.

They braced themselves as they counted down to the last seconds.

But nothing prepared them for the agony that came with a sudden jolt of red searing energy.

Roy knew it was happening, so did Locke, but only now did Roy truly appreciate Edward's sympathy for poor little Nina when she had been in Roy's place all those months ago. He wished he could've been a little kinder to her as his body contorted itself against the stone floor. He wish he could at least say goodbye to her.

To his men.

To his aunt.

To Hawkeye.

To Hughes.

To Alphonse.

To Edward.

He screamed as his bones melted and reformed with the animal ones that were being transported through the portal-like transmutation circles that he had failed to notice all three were sitting on. He felt his eyes burst and reform, his ribs turning to dust then grow from said dust, he felt his skull crack apart and mush back together, and he felt his organs rearrange and twist and mangle themselves to their new locations. It was worse than death as he had guessed. Roy shut his crying eyes, looked up to the sky, and screamed until his new throat bled.

And the last thing he remembered before his mind blanked was the sound of his own scream…

Morphing from his own to one that of a monster.