After he had finally come to grips with what Lan Fan had said, Edward looked back up at her to search her paled visage, hoping, praying, that there would be a shred of doubt in her eyes. Instead, what he saw was self-assurance and definitiveness. She was confident with her answer.

"Lan Fan," he began again, stumbling over his denial, "Are you sure? Are you absolutely positive?" Before she could answer he turned the sheet back around and squinted at the picture. The lighting wasn't perfect and… And it wasn't the clearest picture they could have used. It would be easy to misidentify someone based on that alone!

His heart dropped, however, when she answered with a weak nod. Her expression silently begged for him the turn the paper around once more. Obeying her silent order he turned it around, watching as her eyes scanned down to the picture once more. After another minute or so of analyzing it, she looked up at him again, her determination once again shining through the pain.

"I'm… positive," she managed to utter through quick, ragged breaths. Despite seeing his forlorn expression, she continued, "Had… had hair pinned up and… and military pants…"

"So you're sure," he asked once more, his escaping voice barely over a whisper.

"… Yes," she murmured as she closed her eyes and sighed heavily, the medication in her system slowly beginning to take effect.

"… Okay," Edward said at last, slowly getting back to his feet. Without looking back at Al or Knox, he trudged out of the room and down the hallway, heading toward the front door. Just as he grasped the handle, he felt a massive hand clamp down on his shoulder. Without looking back, he muttered, "We have go and get to the bottom of this, Al."

"Brother," the suit of armor uttered, "There has to be an explanation for this!"

"Right," he agreed as he turned the knob, "And that's why we have to go now and-"

"Hold on a second."

Snapping his head up and around, he watched as Dr. Knox walked into the room, drying his hands on a towel. Focusing his hardened eyes on the two boys, he muttered, "You two can't leave now. I have a patient here, remember?"

Letting go of the doorknob and taking a step toward him, Edward argued, "But you heard what she said back there! There's something going on and we have to go and figure it out."

"I heard what she said, Fullmetal, but I don't think you should be jumping to conclusions so quickly. Newspaper photographs are grainy at best and half the time you can't even tell who the hell's in the damn picture," the doctor answered bluntly. "It could easily be a misidentification."

"And what if it isn't," Edward fired back. "What if we've stumbled onto something big? We need to at least go and see the Colonel and Lieutenant because maybe they've at least heard about where Ling might be." When the doctor opened his mouth to counter back, Edward continued, "I have a friend that's still in Central that is more than qualified to help you out. I'll call her and have her come here to help for a few hours while we're gone. We just need to know…"

Dr. Knox closed his mouth and formed a thin line with his lips before opening it to speak again. "If you can get your friend here within the next hour I'll let you go, but no later than that. We need to get this done today."

"I know," he mumbled. "Where's your phone?"

"In the living room," Dr. Knox grumbled as he thrust his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the phone line. "Just keep me updated on what's going on. I'm going to check on the girl."

When the doctor turned away from them and made his way back toward the bedroom, Edward strode over to the phone and picked it up, pressing it against his ear as the dial tone bombarded his hearing. After tossing his words around in his mind, he finally came to a decision on what he was going to say as he punched the number of her hotel in. When the operator answered and redirected his call, he held his breath and waited.

Winry answered on the third ring with a tired, "Hello?"

Swallowing the lump of tension that had formed in his throat, he muttered, "Hey…"

"Edward? Where have you—"

"I'm sorry," he muttered quickly into the receiver, "I don't have a lot of time to explain, but do you remember Lan Fan?"

"I do, yes," Winry answered, a hint of concern in her voice.

"Well," Edward began again, "When Al and I were out last night we found her, but not Ling. And she… she's hurt really badly. The doctor we brought her to said that her injuries are too severe to save her arm." He heard Winry quietly gasp on the other end of the line.

"Al and I have to go and investigate this, but in order to do that we would have to leave the doctor alone. So I thought that maybe—"

"Don't say another word, Ed," Winry answered, "Just give me the address and I can be there in twenty minutes. My train can wait for another day… and I'll bring that cat with me too."

"… Thank you," he finally uttered gratefully before giving her the address and details.


The moment they walked into Mustang's office, Edward and Al knew that something was off. Looking around, Edward realized that two very crucial members of the team were missing; the two that he was there to see: Mustang and Hawkeye. Instead, all he saw was the three remaining team members sitting silently at their desks, all of them hunched over their paperwork.

It was so quiet and still that Edward and Alphonse jumped when the sound of jingling reached their ears. Whirling around, Edward saw Black Hayate eagerly round one of the desks, only to halt a moment later when he saw the two of them. His ears instantly dropped and he hung his head, as if disappointed that they were there.

Having Hayate around without Lieutenant Hawkeye was… unusual.

"Yeah, I found him wandering around outside. I think he's looking for Lieutenant Hawkeye," Master Sergeant Kain Fuery suddenly quipped, looking up from his paper work.

Edward's eyes wandered back over to the black-and-white Shiba Inu, who was now on the other side of the room, alternating between growling to himself and sniffing as he cautiously wandered around Hawkeye's desk. "He was just… wandering around? By himself?"

"Yeah," Second Lieutenant Breda muttered as he rose from his desk, turning his focus toward the boys. "Didn't see the Lieutenant around at all whatsoever."

Furrowing his brows, Edward replied, "That's the reason why I'm here." When he saw that he had the entire team's attention, he asked, "Have you noticed the Lieutenant acting strangely the past few days?"

"Yeah," Breda answered as he grabbed a newspaper that he had unfolded on his desk and tossed it back down, "Same with the Col—General too. Hell, he didn't even tell us he was up for a promotion."

"Same," Edward muttered in reply. "And the other day when we encountered Scar neither the Colonel nor Lieutenant performed up to the standard you'd expect them to." When Breda's expression urged him to go on, he elaborated, "Mustang couldn't produce a single spark despite trying over and over again. At first I thought maybe it was a tear in his ignition gloves, but then the Lieutenant forgot to turn off the safety on her gun when she pulled it.

"I thought that it might be because of what happened to Lieutenant Havoc, but I just don't know."

"They have only mentioned the Lieutenant once in the past few days," Falman quipped as he too got to his feet. "And despite our attempts to convince them to accompany us to visit him, they have refused every time."

"That's because it isn't them," Edward stated.

A chill swept through the room and it grew deafeningly silent, the only noise being the soft jingle of Hayate's collar as he continued to wander around and investigate the area around Hawkeye's desk. Lieutenant Breda was finally the one to speak up. "What are you talking about?"

"You said it yourself," Edward said as he took a moment to glance at each of the three men before his eyes finally fell back on Lieutenant Breda, "They've been acting strange… And that's because it isn't them."

Quirking a brow in disbelief, Breda crossed his arms and asked, "How is that even possible? We know the Colonel and Lieutenant. There's no way someone could impersonate them."

"Someone once told us that nothing was impossible," Edward countered as he leaned back against Mustang's desk and planted his hands atop it to straighten himself. "And it's possible that there is more than one shape shifter among them."

"Shape-shifter," Breda echoed back, his growing doubt evident in his tone.

Without batting an eye, Edward nodded and said, "One of them we've encountered before; so have Ling and Lan Fan. They fought it while the Colonel and others were chasing Barry the Chopper's body. It's called Envy. And if there's one, there's bound to be—"

Edward was interrupted when a low growl cut through the air. Turning back, he saw Hayate standing stiffly, his hackles raised and teeth bore toward the door. Whipping his head around to face the direction that the dog was looking, he saw the very two people they were discussing standing in the doorway: Mustang and Hawkeye.

He watched as Mustang's eyes quickly swept the room, falling on each of the men and staying there for a moment before ultimately falling upon him. And when their eyes actually met, Edward could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

After a long, drawn out silence, the 'General' finally cleared his throat and said, "Sorry we're late. My meeting ran longer than expected this morning." When no one immediately acknowledged his reasoning, he furrowed his brows and asked, "Is everything okay here?" Focusing his attention on Edward once more, he added, "Did you bring a case report for yesterday's incident, Fullmetal?"

"… I didn't," Edward replied cautiously, his eyes never wavering from the 'General.' "Figured there was no reason to seeing that you were there most of the time."

At that revelation the General sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose agitatedly. "Fullmetal, you do realize that every incident requires a report, correct? Especially considering that it was Scar that you dealt with."

"Well, right now I'm more concerned about another incident," Edward replied with a low and guarded tone. "One being the disappearance of Ling Yao."

Immediately Mustang paused and pulled his hand away from his face, raising a brow at Edward's statement. A beat later he recovered, crossed his arms, and said, "That friend of yours? If you're asking whether I've seen him or not, I'll stop you right there and say that I haven't."

"Interesting," Edward muttered as he allowed his gaze to wander over to Hawkeye, who was watching him intently, "Because someone told me they saw you last night, Lieutenant."

Seemingly surprised, she cast him a curious glance and replied, "I don't know who that could be, Edward. I was home last night." As she finished that sentence, Hayate took a few cautious steps toward her, but suddenly stopped as he pulled his lip back and snarled. When Edward looked back up at her, he saw that her focus was now on the dog, lip curled and eyes darkened.

"What is with the suspicion," Mustang asked, drawing Edward's attention away from the Lieutenant to look back at him, the man's obsidian eyes scanning the men in the room. "If it's because I failed to mention this promotion, I can assure you that I was just as surprised as you are."

"It isn't that, Boss," Breda replied as his hand instinctively went to the holster on his hip, "It's the fact that you and the Lieutenant have been dodging our questions these past few days. The fact that neither one of you seem to care enough to visit Havoc anymore; and the fact that you two have been hiding behind uniform protocols and whispers. So I want to know," he added as he pulled the gun from his waist, "Who the hell are the two of you, because you sure as hell aren't the Colonel and Lieutenant."

Turning his focus back toward the Mustang and Hawkeye, Edward saw the two of them exchange the briefest of glances before they looked back at the men. In a final attempt to laugh off the situation, Mustang took a step forward and raised his hands to signify peace. "You can't honestly be seri-" When he took another step forward, he stopped when Falman and Fuery raised their guns as well. Stopping his advance, Mustang kept his hands raised as a smirk crossed his face. His eyes flickered over to Edward, and his smile widened. "I'm impressed. I figured we'd get away with it for just a while longer."

"So you admit it," Edward growled as he clapped his hands together and slapped his left on his automail and forming a blade, "You're not the Colonel and Lieutenant."

"Oh," he mused as he lowered his hands and shoved them into his pockets, "We're them alright." Seemingly hearing something behind him, he casually cast his glance over his shoulder and glared toward Sergeant Fuery, who was still on his feet, the gun quivering in his trembling hands. When Mustang took a step toward him, the nervous young man took a step backwards and stumbled over his chair.

A second later Edward heard a loud 'crack' and saw Mustang falter as he staggered backwards, his hand going up to his shoulder as a series of red sparks poured from the wound. Realizing that Fuery had accidentally pulled the trigger, Edward made a move to rush forward but was stopped when a flurry of black invaded his vision. Stumbling backwards, he cut his cheek against something sharp and instinctively froze, just as he heard Alphonse cry out.

Turning his head ever so slightly, he saw that Hawkeye had one hand extended toward Alphonse; long, spindly spears penetrating his armor's arms and torso, just below where his blood seal was. If he moved even an inch, there was the potential that it would be destroyed…

And her other hand was extended toward him, the same black spears mere inches from slashing through his shoulders and neck.

"Wh-what are-" Before Breda, he himself too stunned to pull the trigger as he looked on with a horrified expression.

A split second later Mustang was halfway across the room and in front of Sergeant Fuery's desk. Startled by the man's lightning fast reflexes, Fuery stood no chance as he simultaneously dropped his weapon the moment Mustang grabbed the lapels of his jacket. Yanking the frightened young man over his desk, the General was quick to slam him down onto the ground, knocking the wind from Fuery's lungs.

As the young Sergeant choked and wheezed, Edward saw 'Hawkeye' look away and toward them. Now was his chance. If he could land a blow or something, maybe it would reveal itself. Slashing through the imposter's spears with his automail blade, he dashed toward her, ready to catch her while she was still distracted. But just as he had gotten just outside arm's length of her, she turned toward him, her brown eyes filled with despair.

"Edward…"

Feeling the blood in his veins run cold, he skidded to a stop in front of her and froze. There was no denying it. It was Hawkeye…

But how-

"Edward," she began again, her voice sounding more strained than before as spots of violet began to form in her eyes. "You have to.. listen to us-" As he took a step back, the gravity of the situation slowly beginning to sink in, she continued, "Father… is the one pulling the strings-" Pulling the spears from Alphonse's armor and releasing her hold on him, she clapped her hands down on either side of her head and staggered backwards as whatever was inside of her began to viciously fight back.

Hearing a strangled cry, he whipped his head around to see Mustang following suit, his hands on his head as he towered over Fuery. Backpedaling, he slammed into Fuery's desk and released one hand to steady himself on it as he too began to fight. "There's not… much time," he managed to choke out as he doubled over and dug his nails into the desk's wood. "They're planning to-"

Before he could finish he stumbled forward again and raised his other hand to his face, peering out at him through his fingers.

That's when Edward noticed that there was something red in the place of where his iris would be. But before he could see it clearly enough, Mustang blinked and it was gone.

"Edward, please," Hawkeye begged against her internal struggle as flashes of violet spilled into the brown of her eyes. "You have to… s-stop us."

"Stop you… But-"

"Please," she snapped as one of her hands went down to the holster on her belt. "All of you- Have to… end us…" Grabbing the gun in her holster, she withdrew it and pointed it at Edward, her hand trembling. A beat later, however, her demeanor changed; her eyes growing darker as the violet he had seen before dominated her irises. Smirking, she steadied her hand before loosening her grip on the gun, allowing it to clatter to the ground.

Casting her glance toward Edward, she purred, "Who knew threatening your lives was such an effective way of reining her in. All I had to do was point with the intention of pulling the trigger, and she was like clay in my hands."

"Who are you," he growled as he raised his blade defensively, lest she let loose her spears again.

"I think the answer's clear," she said as she raised a gloved hand across her chest, her fingers once again lengthening to spears.

"That-that's impossible," Alphonse squeaked as she turned her attention toward him, "I was there with the Colonel and Lieutenant. I saw you get burned-"

"-Lust," Edward snarled as he completed Al's sentence, prompting her to focus back on him once more, her confirming, sinister smile forcing shivers to run down his spine. "Tell me how this is possible. Mustang killed you!"

"Surely you can't be so close-minded to completely dismiss the possibility," she taunted, "That we can manifest ourselves in other forms." Her eyes flickering over to Al, she added, "Because nothing is impossible."

Before anyone could counter back, a low moan forced them to turn toward Sergeant Fuery, who was attempting to push himself up off of the ground. Grabbing the back of his jacket, 'Mustang' pulled him to his feet, the younger man's head lolling back and forth carelessly as he tried to steady himself. "It looks like the Sergeant isn't doing too well." Shoving him forward, he amusedly watched as the young man stumbled back. Before he fell to the ground again, however, Breda abandoned his position and caught him.

"I suggest you take him to the infirmary," 'Mustang' drawled, his expression turning to one of boredom, "Because I'd hate for one of my subordinates to needlessly miss work for this little mishap."

"What makes you think we're coming back," Breda growled as he hung Fuery's arm over his shoulder to keep him upright.

"Oh," 'Mustang' responded, "You'll continue working under my command if you hold any value in the lives of your friends."

"What does that mean," Edward pressed, drawing the General's attention to him.

"Let's just say that your cooperation will make things easier for all of you," he replied cryptically. "Especially considering that Ling Yao is still unaccounted for." No doubt seeing Edward's face pale, the General chuckled darkly and added, "And I would hate for something terrible to befall that dear friend of yours. Her name is Winry, correct?"

"What are you planning," Edward snarled as he took a step forward, only to have Lust block his path with her spears.

"All will become clear in due time," the General replied as he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against Fuery's desk. "So for now, just sit tight and await your next orders."

When he made a move to push forward, he heard Alphonse utter, "Brother…" prompting him to look toward his younger sibling. Soul-fire eyes locked themselves on him as Al shook his head and said, "No…"

Reluctantly retracting his automail blade, he turned his head away defeatedly and growled.

Seeing the boy's reluctant agreement to his unspoken terms, the General grinned and said, "Now, if you're finished here, you are excused," as Lust retracted her claws, giving Edward the same triumphant look that the General wore.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the men slowly retreating toward the door, Fuery balanced between them and Hayate tucked under Falman's arm, their eyes never wavering from the General and Lieutenant.

With a wave of dismissal, the General waved them off without a second glance. When they slipped out of the office, he turned his focus to the two Elric brothers, who were eyeing the two of them with contempt. "You are excused as well, Fullmetal."

Holding his ground, Edward growled, "Not unless you tell me what you did with Ling."

The General chuckled and shook his head. "We've given you far too much information to mull over already. Just revel in the fact that I haven't confirmed your friend's demise. That should be enough for you."

Clenching his fists at his sides and gritting his teeth, he muttered, "And what about the Colonel and Lieutenant? What about them?"

"They're already given you a status report," the General replied coldly, his somewhat calm demeanor darkening along with his expression.

"That isn't what I meant," he countered.

"I'm well aware," the General answered as he too attempted to contain his resent, balling his trembling hands into fists. "And if you value them as well, you will stand down."

Taking a few steps backward and causing Al to follow suit, he slowly looked between the two individuals that stood before them, eyeing them with malice.

Reaching the door, Edward clumsily reached out behind him and grabbed the doorknob and turned it, his eyes never leaving the two that stood before him. "This isn't the end," he muttered as they continued to stare him down.

Sensing Edward's retreat, the General relaxed. "I don't doubt it," he replied annoyedly.

Pushing the door open, he looked at them one last time, seeing his own sorrow reflected in their eyes. As long as they were still there… "Just… hold on," he uttered, addressing the Colonel and Lieutenant.

For a brief and fleeting moment, he could have sworn that he saw something in their eyes to indicate that they were there and listening. But just as quickly as he saw it, it was gone. Instead, he saw them eye Al and him just as critically as before, their looks akin to a predator studying its prey.

The moment he closed the door behind him, he immediately began to make his way down the hallway, his slow canter turning quickly into a fast walk.

"Brother!"

"Wait, Al," Edward said as his pace quickened. Looking up and seeing the front doors of Central Command before him, his brisk jog became a sprint. Flinging the doors open, he ran out into the morning rain and flew down the steps. When he reached the bottom, however, he slipped on a smooth patch of marble and crashed to his knees, driving his automail fist into the ground.

Hearing Alphonse run up behind him, he lowered his gaze so that his younger brother wouldn't see. He needed to keep it together for him. He had to…

"Brother," Al whispered quietly again, his voice faltering, "Please… what do we do?"

After taking a few moments to catch his breath, Edward slowly shook his head and finally gasped, "… I don't know, Al. I… I don't know…"


"What the hell do you want," Jean Havoc snarled as his two new visitors eyed him with feigned innocence.

"What," the 'Colonel' –or in this case, General- said as he raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders, his smirk widening, "You aren't happy to see us?"

"No," Jean replied bluntly, "I'm not."

The General frowned. "You're not even going to congratulate me on my newest position? Skipping rank to become a Major General is a great achievement."

"Yeah," Jean growled, "One that should be earned, not handed to you on a damn silver platter."

Cocking a brow, the General replied, "Well, Mustang was bound to reach that level sooner or later." When Jean scoffed the two of them wandered around the edge of his bed and took the two seats that were positioned beside it. "So then, Lieutenant Havoc, when were you informed?"

"I'm not a Lieutenant anymore," he replied dryly as his eyes slowly wandered between the two of them. "And my former team figured they'd warn me beforehand since your encounter yesterday was less than civil."

The General raised his hands defensively and countered, "You can't blame us entirely; after all, they were very unruly. Hardly something you would expect from the competent, qualified soldiers they were trained to be.

"And the blows still continue to come, seeing that they all conveniently decided to take a day off today."

"Can you blame them," he growled back as he tightened his grip on his bedsheets, "They just figured out what you damn monsters did to the Colonel and Lieutenant. I'd consider their actions and absence more than justified."

"You're condoning their actions, despite them being against their superior officer?"

"Hah," Jean laughed bitterly, "You aren't their superior officer." Looking toward 'Hawkeye,' he added, "Just like you aren't their colleague." When she scoffed in reply he continued, "So what are you to doing here anyways, because I assume you aren't looking to say 'hello.'"

"That's true… to an extent," the General replied. "We could care less about your well-being. But they… They are worried immensely about you and your safety."

Narrowing his eyes, Jean slowly asked, "Are you here to kill me then? Let the Boss and Lieutenant watch?"

The General raised his brows at the question, but replied, "As much as I wish it were true, keeping you and the men alive allow us to keep the Colonel and Lieutenant on very short leashes."

"So your visit is just a friendly reminder that our liveliness is a gift from you, right?"

At that the General smiled. "Very good, Havoc. You know, you're a lot smarter than you let on."

"Thanks," he muttered sarcastically. "Glad to know I've got you all figured out."

At that the General let loose a brief laugh, just as a nurse filed into the room. Looking past Jean, he tossed her a friendly wave as she picked up the chart hanging on the edge of his bed.

For a moment Jean considered saying something, anything, to get away from them. But a cold glance from the General stopped him in his tracks; a glance that suggested if she, or anyone else, were unnecessarily involved somehow, their involvement would be very brief, and their end very abrupt. So instead he shot her a small and reassuring smile as she asked him a series of questions regarding his physical pain and wellbeing. Once she was done and he was confident that he did not let anything on, the three of them watched after her as she stepped out of the room to finish the rest of her rounds.

Once they were sure she was gone, the General turned back to Jean and said, "Well, I'll let you two catch up," as his eyes wandered up at the clock on the wall. Rising to his feet, he continued, "I should really get back to HQ to finalize a few plans we have recently laid out." When Jean refused to acknowledge his departure, the imposter rolled his eyes and lightly scoffed before making eye contact with 'Hawkeye,' who responded by tossing him a smirk.

After Jean heard his footsteps die away, he turned his glare to the blonde woman that was seated next to his bed, who was now smiling slyly toward him. Then, before he could retort or bite something back in reply, she leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm, brushing her cheek past his to press her lips against his ear. "Do you remember me," she whispered. "Because I am quite unforgettable."

"What are you—" He cut himself off as he gasped, feeling her nails dig into his bicep. In that instant his thoughts immediately turned to one individual with a very particular technique… "They told me it was you," he breathed as she tightened her steel-like grip on his arm, "But the Colonel, he killed you…"

"He did, in a sense," she clarified. "And now I've been reborn in the one person he'll never escape. I find it very serendipitous because it keeps him in line."

Feeling a fine layer of sweat form on his brow, Jean uttered, "And just who else is keeping him in line besides you?"

"You would like to know, wouldn't you," she mused, "But what's the fun in revealing everything in one go? After all, I find the suspense to be captivating."

Jean could feel a tingling sensation suddenly begin to form and envelop the area just above his waist, above the area he had lost all feeling. As her nails slowly dug deeper and deeper into his skin, the tingling he felt began to strengthen, turning into a sharp, searing pain; akin to the pain he had felt that day. As the memories suddenly flooded into his mind, he began to claw at the bedsheets and attempt to push himself away from her.

Obviously enjoying this struggle, she dug her nails deeper into his bicep, digging into the muscle of his arm. "What's the matter, Jean," she asked innocently, "Are you remembering our time together now?"

"Go to hell," he hissed as he tried to jerk his arm out of her grip.

"Only if you'll join me," she purred, brushing her lips against his ear. "I only wish that I could remember it as well. I can only imagine how special it must have been for you…"

Just as he was about to retort back with the first insult that came to his mind, she suddenly drew away and retracted her claws, straightening herself as Rebecca Catalina walked turned the corner.

Stopping in the doorway, she glanced between the room's occupants before her eyes ultimately settled on Hawkeye. Taking a step toward the imposter, she licked her dry lips before muttering, "Hey Ri… I didn't expect to see you here."

Judging by the glance Lust had tossed her, Jean was confident that she knew Rebecca was aware. Mustering up a fake smile, she coolly replied, "Hey Rebecca. It's nice to see you too. We'll have to catch up later, though, because I was just leaving." Turning back to Jean, she added, "It was nice seeing you, Lieutenant. I'll be sure to stop by soon."

And with that she turned away and strode around the bed. Stopping beside Rebecca, she placed her hand on the brunette's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Rebecca nodded rigidly and forced a smile. "Definitely. I'll let you know when I'm free."

After acknowledging Rebecca's confirmation, Lust nodded and pulled her hand off of the brunette's shoulder, turning the corner and vanishing from their sight. The moment her footsteps died away, Rebecca rushed over to Jean's bed and sunk down in the chair the blonde woman had occupied moments before. "Alright, who the hell was that, Jean? Because that sure as hell was not Riza Hawkeye."

Swallowing thickly, he cast his glance toward the door to confirm that she was gone before looking back at Rebecca. "It's like I told you on the phone, Becks. She and the Colonel… They've been compromised."


"How is this even possible?"

Now that he had at last calmed down and explained, Jean exhaled slowly before continuing. "I told you, Rebecca. If something as legendary as a Homunculus exists, then this isn't too far of a stretch."

"So these things were put inside of them and now they have complete control of their bodies," Rebecca asked exasperatedly.

"Yes," Jean replied with a small nod, trying his best to keep his expression as impassive as possible. "Although not complete control," he added in an attempt to instill hope into her. "From what the men told me they pushed through, even if it was for only a few moments.

"They're fighting, Becks. They're fighting back." As she buried her face in her hands, he finished by saying, "And we need to be here to pull them out of the trenches."

He watched as she took a deep breath and exhaled, her shoulders lowering themselves as she slumped. After taking another breath and letting it go, she nodded her head and muttered, "Yeah… I know."

Was that…. Doubt in her voice?

But before he could even contemplate how he would go about asking her, she continued on. "I just…" She sighed again before she lifted her head to look at him, her eyes wetted and shining. "Why them, Jean? Why mybest friend? What did they do to deserve this?!"

"Rebecca," he began as he reached for her hand, which she quickly pulled away.

"It isn't fair," she argued as her voice continued to rise to the point of near hysteria. "They didn't deserve this! They don't—"

"Becks," he yelped as he pushed himself upward and grabbed her wrists in an attempt to calm her, "Listen to me, please!" When she stopped for a split second, he continued, his voice softer and calmer, "I think it was because we were digging too deep, we were learning too much—"

"-Then why did you pursue it," she argued.

"Becks, you have to understand; this isn't something we could just ignore. There's something going on that is bigger than just us, bigger than the military. There's something going on inside of military command that involves everything we've been finding."

"Then why didn't you just report it to your superiors and be done with it?!"

With an exacerbated sigh, Jean explained, "Because they might be involved as well. The Colonel and Lieutenant were doing what they had to in order to uncover it."

"But why them, Jean? Why you? Why is everyone I care about being taken away?!"

"Rebecca," he started again, but stopped as he watched her eyes wander down to look at her hands, still caught in his. As he started to loosen his grip, she tightened hers, giving his hands a tight squeeze. She knew the answers to her own questions, but was trying to understand.

She was grieving…

"You're acting like they're gone for good," he finally managed to mutter, his voice strangely more gravelly and quieter than he thought it would be.

Taking a deep, shaking breath, she looked him in the eye and uttered, "How do you know they aren't?"

The corner of his lip twitching upward, he answered, "Because someone once told me that nothing was impossible…

"Becks, there has to be a way we can get them out of this. There just has to be."

"But how are we even going to accomplish that," she fought back, her voice beginning to rise again. "How do you even get those things out of them?!"

"I don't," he admitted, "But the Chief and Alphonse will help us figure out a way—"

"Jean," she began again, "You can't honestly be putting all of your faith in two young boys. They've done so much, but even they have limitations."

"That's where I'd have to disagree, Becks," he murmured as he shook his head side-to-side. "I admit that I've doubted them once or twice before… but I can also admit that those few times I was completely wrong.

"Those two will stop at nothing until they achieve what they set out to do. That's the reason the Colonel recruited the Chief; he had a sort of fire in his eyes. A passion. They won't stop until we have the Colonel and Lieutenant with us again."

For a moment he saw another flicker of doubt in her eyes, but after a few seconds of mulling it over she gave in to his words and allowed them to set in. "I have to go," she suddenly muttered as she reluctantly rose to her feet and wrapped her arms around her waist in a loose hug. "I came here immediately after I got off the train. My bags are waiting at my hotel and check-in ends soon."

"Rebecca," Jean began again as he instinctively made a move to stand. When he saw her flinch at his realization that he wouldn't be able to, he murmured, "I don't think you're completely satisfied with everything we've said here."

"No, I'm not," she admitted with a head shake. "It's just a lot to take in right now… But I really do need to go. If I don't get there in time they're going to cancel my reservation."

Drawing his lips in a thin line as he eyed her worriedly, he uttered, "Are you sure you can't stay? Maybe take someone with you?"

Once again she shook her head, "I made sure to book it close to the hospital. It's only a three minute walk from here. I'll be fine." Resting her hand on the bulge resting on her hip, she added, "I'm well aware of everything around me.

"Besides, who is there to take with me?"

"I could call one of the men? Maybe Breda or Falman could—"

"By the time they get here it'll be late, Jean." Leaning forward and brushing her fingers over the hand he had rested on his thigh, she said, "I'll come back as soon as I'm done; twenty minutes tops."

Realizing that her mind was made up, he exhaled defeatedly and uttered, "Twenty minutes you say?" When she nodded, he said, "Okay, but not a second longer unless you call me." Grabbing a pen and paper from the desk next to his, he scribbled down his phone number and handed the paper to her. "This is the number that goes directly to the phone on his table. If you'll end up being longer, I want you to call me and just let me know. I just want to make sure you're safe."

He saw her shoulders sag as she relaxed slightly. Taking the paper from his hand, she tucked it into her purse and murmured, "I promise. Twenty minutes tops."


Rebecca barely remembered the walk to her hotel, her mind swimming, clouded with all of the information she had just received. She honestly felt like she was dreaming right now; that this was all some nightmare that she'd wake up from where she would be able to pick up the phone beside her bed and call her best friend. Her best friend that never fails to answer by the third ring, her tone formal yet inviting.

It was always the perfect time to catch her; when the day and work was over and pushed to the back of their minds. Well, the back of Rebecca's mind, anyways. Riza would always somehow smuggle a few words in here or there about work, the Colonel, or something until Rebecca would silence her and demand that she talk about herself for once.

It be like old times when she 'woke up,' she decided as she rounded the corner of her hotel. Just like old-

She suddenly stopped in her tracks, a shiver running up her spine.

Leaning against the wall of the hotel just feet in front of her was Riza… Or rather, she told herself, the imposter.

Smirking at Rebecca's reaction, the woman pushed herself off of the wall and strolled toward her, violet eyes never leaving her. "Hey," she said as Rebecca took a step back, "I thought you'd never get here."

"What do you want," Rebecca growled as she tried to take another step back.

When her body would not cooperate, however, the Homunculus chuckled. In one fluid motion she slipped her arm beneath Rebecca's, snaked it around her arm, and grasped the brunette's bicep, digging her sharpened nails into her flesh. "Don't you remember," she murmured in a sickeningly sweet tone as she began to lead Rebecca away from her hotel, "I told you that I would be seeing you later."

"Oh, right," Rebecca replied slowly, "I remember now. Although I thought that meant much later… After I got checked in to my hotel."

Waving the comment off, 'Riza' shook her head and said, "You can do that once we're done catching up. We won't be too long."

Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Rebecca managed to utter, "Yeah, you're right. Of course…"

No sooner had she finished that sentence, they turned the corner down into a deserted alleyway, away from any possibly prying eyes. Just as Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, 'Riza' shoved her away. Stumbling backwards, she desperately tried to regain her footing before she slammed into a brick wall. A beat later a gust of wind tore past her, forcing her eyes open as a sudden pain radiated through her neck.

Just feet ahead of her she saw 'Riza' grinning madly back, her gloved hand extended and protruding razor-like spears; two of which had grazed her neck, planting themselves on either side of her head.

Swallowing thickly, Rebecca tried to remain level-headed and cool, even as she felt a steady trickle of blood flow from the two wounds she had just sustained. From what she felt, however, the abrasions were not deep; simply flesh wounds. "Nice nails," she retorted, her tone higher than she intended for it to be, "Are you actually going let me paint them now that you've grown them out?"

It took her every ounce of her strength not to break down or react in any other way at that very moment. Looking into the face of her best friend and knowing that she wasn't there, it wasn't her, was beginning to become very real… and very unbearable.

The imposter scoffed and grumbled, "Are you always this gutsy?"

"That's what makes me charming," Rebecca replied dryly.

'Riza' narrowed her eyes and clicked her tongue agitatedly in response to Rebecca's 'charm.' But after a few moments, her expression lightened as a thought crossed her mind. Smirking, she then said, "I'll bet Jean Havoc would agree."

"Don't you dare bring him into this," Rebecca snapped as she braced her hands against the wall to steady herself, noticing that the spears had shifted slightly, one of them now brushing against the side of her jaw. When 'Riza' went to open her mouth, Rebecca interjected, "And before you go any further to 'reveal' your connection to him in any way, I'll let you save your breath. He told me who you are! He told me everything!"

At that her face darkened, her piercing glare boring in to Rebecca. "You know," she growled as she tilted her hand slightly, the spear resting against the brunette's jaw now grazing the soft skin of her neck, "If he genuinely cared about your well-being, he would have left your visit as simply that; a visit. And now that you know too much, your blood will be on his hands." She moved her hand again, the spear now digging into her skin, inches above her carotid artery.

"So you're going to eliminate me now that I know? How does Riza feel about that?" Fighting through the pain and the notion that another flick of the Homunculus's wrist would likely result in decapitation, she gazed into narrowed violet eyes and uttered, "I know you're in there, Ri, and I know you're fighting this. You're stronger than it, you're—"

She was cut off by Lust's gleeful laugh. "You think that appealing to a single soul's humanity is going to stop me from killing you?" When Rebecca narrowed her eyes and did not immediately respond, she added, "You've got to be kidding me? You seriously think that—"

"I seriously think that you underestimate her," Rebecca snarled back as one hand went to her waistband, her fingers ghosting over the gun she had concealed on her him.

Seeing this, the Homunculus shot her a tired look. "I've dealt with her long enough to know her limitations, my dear; right now I'm more focused on yours.

"The moment you empty that weapon of yours, your fate will be sealed. You know enough to realize that your recklessness will get you nowhere in the end."

"It'll give me enough time to get the hell away from you," Rebecca growled in reply.

The corners of her lips twitching upward, 'Riza' retracted her spears and held both hands in the air. "Go right ahead then."

Within moments Rebecca grabbed the gun and raised it up, clicking the safety off as she steadied her hands. Keeping her glare focused on her target, she growled, "Don't you tempt me," to which the Homunculus replied with a smirk. But the longer Rebecca kept her gun raised and focused, the more she found that her line of sight began to waver.

"What's the matter? Are you too weak to pull the trigger?"

"Shut up," Rebecca snapped as she glared at… at Riza's face.

Her stomach churned and suddenly she felt her knees weaken. She was pointing her gun at Riza Hawkeye, her longtime friend from the academy; her best friend.

"I can see the struggle in your eyes," Lust purred as she took a step toward Rebecca.

"Stay back," Rebecca warned as she took a step backwards.

Not heeding to her plea, the Homunculus took another step toward her before stopping in her tracks. With a slow growl she stumbled back and raised a hand to her head. "Not now," she suddenly snarled. "You- Rebecca!"

Feeling the blood drain from her face, Rebecca lowered her gun and uttered, "Riza?"

"Go," her friend muttered as her hand went down to her holster, producing her gun. "She'll… kill you…!"

"There has to be a way, let me help-"

"Re…becca," Riza growled as she slowly lowered the gun, her hand trembling as she continued to fight against Lust's control. "You have to… run…"

"Wait—" Rebecca was cut off by the sound of a gunshot as Riza pressed the muzzle of the handgun against her knee and pulled the trigger, sending shards of bone and flesh in every direction as her kneecap shattered.

With a cry of pain Riza slumped to the ground as a burst of red sparks began to illuminate her wounded knee. Moved to help her, Rebecca took a step forward but was stopped when Riza raised her gun and pointed it at her. "Go!" When Rebecca still remained frozen, she fired a shot that buried itself into the wall behind her.

She could see that Riza was losing the fight, that she would be gone again in a matter of seconds. But still Rebecca hesitated as Riza's eyes wandered up and locked on hers, silently screaming for her to listen.

"Please…" she murmured. "Go…"

After seeing Riza's pained expression and hearing the agony in her voice, Rebecca knew that she was powerless against this internal struggle. All she could do now was listen to her friend. "I'll be back okay, Ri? Just hold on…" This time dodging another shot that Lust had fired toward her, she dashed around the corner and down the road.

She needed to get somewhere! Where that 'somewhere' was, however, she did not know. Still she kept running and running, praying that that mysterious place would present itself soon, or believing that this was still just a dream that she would wake up from at any moment, because she could really—

Suddenly two pairs of hands grasped her and yanked her into the alley she was sprinting past. Before she could let out a yelp of surprise, a hand covered her mouth as one of them leaned close and whispered, "Are you Rebecca Catalina?"

Upon hearing her name, she relaxed slightly as her eyes wandered between the two young women that had captured her. When they saw that she had taken them in, the one that had her hand over her mouth slowly removed it as Rebecca sputtered, "Who are—"

"There isn't enough time," the other one said as she grabbed Rebecca's wrist and began to lead her down the alleyway. "Just trust us."

Reluctantly following with her free hand on her holster, she allowed them to lead her down a few back alleys until they reached the steel backdoor of a one of the buildings. After they took one last look around to ensure that they weren't followed, they pushed the door open and began to descend the darkened staircase that immediately followed it.

Just as she began to open her mouth to ask again, she saw a light once they reached the bottom of the steps. When they pulled her into the room that housed the light's source, she was immediately greeted by the faces of the men she had befriended and grown to love as brothers over the years: Heymans Breda, Kain Fuery, who was looking a little worse for wear, Vato Falman, and even the Elric brothers.

But what really caught her attention was the two figures that stood at the end of the long table they were all seated at. The first, a larger woman with dark hair, adorned with a plethora of jewels and expensive clothing. And the other…

Raising her hand in salute, Rebecca watched as General Grumman raised one in acknowledgement before gravely uttering, "Thank you for joining us, Lieutenant Catalina."