Snow blazed in his vision, the icy particles blinding him and freezing his face. Cold enough to burn and a slower way to die. They clung to his hair like parasites, melting before freezing repeatedly, turning the golden strands into a single frozen mass atop his head. His automail, though in the northern style (custom made by Winry, of course. He wouldn't let anyone else touch that delicate piece of machinery.), was seizing up, his movements becoming slower, as he trudged through the winter wasteland.

'Damn,' he thought. 'It's only October.'

It's just gonna get worse from here, too. Heh heh, damn this is gonna suck.

He was used to thoughts that weren't his own, though these ones were new and worried him. Though whoever this new character was, he sure did help out during battle.

Battle. That word brought the unsavory taste of iron to his tongue; he wouldn't be eating meat ever again after the experiences he had here. He trudged on, the snow falling even faster, masses of flesh disappeared under the deadly white fluff.

He knew there were bodies underneath every inch of where he walked, it didn't surprise him at this point. He had grown used to the death and destruction that was war. That thought made him pause, stopping in his tracks. When had it come to this? When had the bloodshed and alchemizing a stone fist or spike to murder another human become commonplace to him?

I'm the one doing the killing. Don't worry about it, he's not like you yet, and you're the only thing stopping that. You've got this, Metal.

Footsteps crunched the snow beneath standard issue boots, drawing his attention outward.


"Edward!" Roy ran over to the blond collapsed on the hospital floor. He pulled the boy into his arms, supporting his head and back. "Ed! Edward! Can you hear me?"

The blond shifted slightly before golden eyes opened slowly, blinking. They were glassy, the sheen of the light making him appear unconscious. Another blink and a small squint were the predecessors to his voice, "G-Greig? How-" he coughed violently, his too thin frame shaking at the effort, "How long was I out?" His voice was small, frightened, Roy noticed.

"Edward, are you alright?" the raven asked.

"Greig what are you talking about?" a small chuckle and a weak grin were aimed up at him. "You know he's not actually here. I'm just imagining things again. Like the fields last night...wait...was it last night?" a pause, too short for Roy to begin talking again, "Really? Damn...sure felt like last night. Didn't think it was 2 days ago." Glazed gold orbs looked right into Roys dark brown. "Though...I'm glad he's not here with us, you know? Wouldn't want that pyro getting half of what they've done to me already."

"Edward. Come on kid, snap out of it!" Roy waved a gloved hand in front of the subordinate's face, getting no response.

"Sit Tight, I'm gonna need you to keep time. Come on just snap, snap, snap your fingers for me..."

Roy froze, shocked at the singing coming from the young man before him. He slowly removed one of his gloves, pocketing it swiftly before doing as Ed had sang.

"Good good, now we're making some progress. Come on just tap, tap, tap your toes to the beat. And I believe this may call for a porper introduction and well, don't you see? I'm the narrator and this is just the prologue..." The boy's eyes fluttered before they seemed to clear a brief second-

And a bony fist met Roy's left cheekbone.


Snow turned to ice, swiftly alchemized into a fist, knocking a black and red clad soldier into the boughs of a nearby pine. A loud cry of pain accompanying the impact, the snow shaken off the slightly blue needles from the force.

The sound of a cocked gun drew Ed to create another ice fist, prompting the swift aerial removal of the second soldier ambushing the blond alchemist. A word shouted in a language uncomprehensible-deeply understood simultaniously- left him scrambling to create a barrier around himself, blue sparks of alchemic residue left the stone, popping in their wake.

Ed awaited the gunfire, and upon hearing the utter silence, stillness of the scene, he proceeded to dig further into the ground.

In warzones, Edward had found that trench warfare was completely useless and had blatently told his superior officers what he thought of it. They hadn't listened to him and the alchemist had made the best of it.

By planting bombs out in no-man's-land through his own alchemic tunnels. Though it sickened him, his bombs never killed anyone, mind you, merely stunned the enemy, he did what he had to. Though he'd never forget the sound of bodies dropping to the ground after the sound of heavy gunfire.

Now was one of those times; prevent any and all deaths as he was physically able, then make a hasty retreat through the ground from enemy lines. A quick slap of his hands and he was down into the earth, the warmth offhandedly surprising him. Another smack and the tunnel stretched into darkness, blue sparks discharging off the wall as Edward ran down it.

The process continued a handful of times when he heard a loud crash, followed by shouted orders in the same half understood tongue.

"Find him! Cfwtz woi*# alive!"

The few words he grasped sent his mind reeling with terror. To be captured by the Drachman army was one thing he took from the mission briefing to be the most miserable experience of a soldier's life, or what was left of it after they had gotten through with you. They were informed of the methods used by the Drachmans: beatings, starvation, dehydration. A few mentioned for the lowest of soldiers unwittingly captured were followed by more unspeakable, yet somehow expected ways for those higher up in the food chain of the military.

What Edward feared most of these were the injections. Being an alchemist, Edward knew the ins and outs of most chemicals and what havoc they could wreak on the human body.

He slammed his hands against the wall, closing himself off hastily from the enemy and continued on through the tunnel. He couldn't be captured, wouldn't be. He had Al and Winry and Pinako waiting for him back in Resembool. He had to get back to them, at any cost. He thought to himself. He couldn't wait for the bastards to-

His thoughts of home and enemies were cut off as another explosion ran through the tunnel, blowing him forward into the dirt swiftly followed by being pulled upright by rough hands. Voices yelled and cheered, disorienting the elder Elric who caught only glimpses of red and black along with the scent of vodka and ice.

A rag to his face and what he could only assume was the butt of a rifle connecting with his skull found him unconscious in the arms of a Drachman.


long wait, I know, sorry...I'm at university now though and well...I've plenty of studying to do. Again sorry...and I'm terrible too. Left you guys with that cliffhanger there. I'll attempt to get another one out soon, if you guys like it. leave a review for me, let me know what you think. reviews make me work faster, so if you want more sooner, you know the drill.