lil-lilac86 informed me that I haven't updated in nearly two months! I'm so sorry guys...friends making stupid decisions+mexico+college+work+deadly writer's blockme not posting for a long time. But two months...I couldn't allow that. I've been writing all day, and this is a portion of what I've come up with. Anyway, two major things going on in this chapter. I don't know what to call it...x.x Yeah, so thank lil-lilac86. Even though she thinks that Winry's not dead. Pfft!

Roy traversed the corners of his office, looking for anything interesting. He had already cleaned the windows and managed to dodge Colonel Leigh and now he was bored. He was beginning to think he should have gone with Edward, if only to alleviate his boredom. His research on the Ishbalan terrorist cell had hit a solid brick wall. The terrorists were most likely less than a hundred in number, so they were very tricky to find. In Fuhrer Bradley's days, a platoon would have already been dispatched on a 'search and destroy' mission. Never again. Roy was adamant about that. He would never lay his hands on an Ishbalan again. They were a persecuted people and for what? Having different views?

Roy sat back in his chair and spun. Not even Riza was there to talk with. She had been almost non-existent since they had agreed on a date. He was still confused about that. Riza was a very private person. Roy decided to blame it on her lack of sleep lately. He knew full well what it felt like. The things that seemed okay before suddenly became objects of great stress to the sleep-deprived officer. Some of the dumbest things Roy had ever said were because he had not been sleeping.

What about the other dumb things you say? Ed's voice asked inside his head. Roy cracked his head purposely on the window behind him. He missed the sarcastic Edward so much he was insulting himself. For some reason, Roy was reminded of his favorite insult Ed had ever given him.

"I'll never die before you, you morally bankrupt colonel with a god-complex."

When Hughes had related that to him, Roy had had to struggle to keep from laughing.

Hughes…Roy should go visit Gracia and Elicia. It had been a while. Ryan and Anna were staying with them too. He could clock out early and spend the rest of—the phone buzzed loudly, interrupting Roy's thoughts.

"Colonel Mustang." he said tiredly.

"Colonel? Colonel! You've got to come to Sorrel St., now!" shouted a frantic voice on the other side.

"What's going on?" Roy's interest peaked.

"A –en—st—es—off!" Static smeared the voice. Roy's interest turned to worry.

"I can't hear you, repeat!"

"—said—or—di—ter—bomb—lan—" The line cut off. Roy sat frozen, the phone in his hand. He had clearly understood one word: bomb. He cast the phone aside and streaked out of his office. He did not register anything in the hallway, he just kept moving. He had to get word to the higher-ups, he—Roy was nearly knocked backwards.

"Where's the fire Colonel?" said a deep, familiar voice.

"General Armstrong!" said Roy, looking up.

"Would you care to join me in the cafeteria…"

"A bomb's gone off on Sorrel St., sir!" said Roy quickly. There was a moment where Armstrong was in shock, just as Roy had been. The next moment Armstrong's voice was booming throughout the halls. Roy rushed around him, grabbing the first soldiers who entered the hall.

"I'm going ahead!" Roy informed Armstrong hastily before clambering into the weapons locker. If he was correct, and he normally was, the thing he feared most had finally happened, the Ishbalan terrorists had launched an attack.

"Ouch!" Edward grunted as a bit of rock tumbled off the mountain. He swore at the rock, massaging his throbbing head. He waited a minute for the pain to subside before relocating his trail. It had taken him nearly a full day to find it. He could not say for sure that robbers were on this path or not, but it was clear that someone was using it, and they were very picky about covering their trail. If it were not for his bolt, he may never have found it.

The night before Ed had lain down to sleep in some bushes (he was not keen to be seen by anyone) only to place his ear right on top of a bolt. After thoroughly searching the area he also found a pipe with a dried red substance on the end; he was pretty sure this was blood. Both of these clues had led him to discover a very faint trail.

His curiosity had peaked however and he was going to follow this trail right to the robbers. Of course, it was also possible that he would find a crazy hermit who was anal about people locating him and the pipe was what he had used to kill his squirrel for dinner and the bolt was what he had used to hang it up on. At any rate, it was worth checking out.

"Right, crazy hermit or murdering robbers, gotta find out." Ed huffed and continued up the mountain, talking to himself. It helped to pass time, and it helped greatly in not thinking about anything too deeply. If he did, he was not sure he would be able to obey Al's request; Don't you even think about dying up there.

Unfortunately, it was becoming too dark to investigate the trail further. Progress had become slow; soon he would be forced to stop altogether.

"Just a bit more, just through the brush…" he coaxed his aching legs forward. He took in a large breath of air as he pushed out of the brush. The trail had led him to a cliff overlooking a completely uninhabited valley. Even in his exhausted state, he had to appreciate the overwhelming beauty of it all.

There were no houses or town clogging up the wilderness. It was a huge, snowy white expanse. The moon shone brightly on fresh snow, making it sparkle. It was as bright as day. The mountains in the background were a calming gray, mist rose off them, stretching toward the clear, starry heavens. The air was clear and refreshingly sharp. It made the moon so much more potent. Even clear nights in Risembul did not reach this magnitude. There were no crickets chirping here, no birds, there was just a beautiful silence, broken by nothing. It was captivating. He wanted to stay here, in this moment, in this perfect moment…just he and…

Ed tore his eyes away from the shining moon. He had forgotten. There was no one with him. He hastily shook the thought off. He could not afford to break down on a mountain cliff. He took out his coverings for the night, passing over the food. He did not feel especially hungry. Ed lay down and tried to sleep.

However, it seemed that sleep was another thing that did not want to be with him tonight. He hated it; he wished he had brought Al with him. Even Mustang. He loathed and dreaded being alone with his thoughts. Unwatched they carried him to places he never wanted to visit, never wanted to know had happened…

"Fine!" Edward let out a frustrated groaned and sat up. He stuffed his coverings back into his bag. The moon made it light enough to continue, didn't it? Screw sleep. He flung his bag over his shoulder and began searching for a way down the—his eyes caught a flickering light traveling over the white expanse. If it had been daylight he never would have noticed, but the light of the moon and the cool tones of night made even the smallest flame impossible to overlook.

For that matter, Ed was suddenly aware of how obvious he was, dressed in his red coat. Any attempt by alchemy to hide himself would only give away his position. He was very doubtful that whoever it was down there would greet a stranger with enthusiasm. He was even more doubtful that either one of them could sneak up on the other without being noticed. Any attempt to camouflage himself by alchemy would give away his position more than anything else. However, there was a good chance that the person in the valley had not yet noticed him, and therefore he had the element of surprise. A head on attack seemed to be the best strategy.

"Right. Here goes." Ed whispered, crouching on the balls of his feet.

Edward leapt into the air, meaning to soar off the cliff, but—

"Aah!" Ed gave a shout of pain as a hand wrapped around his braid and yanked him back down.

"Don't think so shorty." Ed opened his watering eyes. There were two thick boots on either side of his head.

"Yer not as clever as yeh think yeh are." sneered a second voice. "We've been followin' yeh fer 'bout six hours now." Ed flung his body into a handstand. He heard a shout, but did not hesitate to see how much damage had been done. He continued with his original plan and hurdled off the cliff.

The snow was deep and it cushioned his fall. He hit the ground running. He dashed toward the light. The light was stopped; apparently the holder was not sure what to do. Then, the light began moving rapidly back the way it came.

"No you don't!" cried Ed. He clapped his hands together and pushed them into the snow. The ground rocked like waves. There was a shriek of surprise up ahead, and the light fell. He made to run again, but was once more jerked back by his hair. Ed spun around on his right heel; his hair flew out of the braid. He threw his left foot over a man's shoulder and brought his metal heel across the man's skull, landing a follow-up blow in his side.

The victory was short lived. It did not take long for Edward to realize that the two men were not alone. He did not know when it happened, but very soon he was surrounded by at least five more people, their gleaming red eyes beating into him. Ed clapped his hands again and transmuted his arm grill.

"Come on then!" he shouted boldly. His word was heeded. The group dove at him. Ed clambered over a couple shoulders and managed to escape the circle. Fight one on one, he told himself, that's it, keep running. And he did. He raced around the snowy flats attempting to draw the group into a line.

For the third time he was halted from the back. Someone had caught the large collar of his coat. He chambered his leg and landed a sidekick in 'someone's gut. A tremendous ripping sound echoed throughout the valley. Snow crunched behind him. Ed whipped around, hair flying over his face, and thrust his transmuted arm grill blindly at his enemy.

It missed. His hair fell out of his eyes in time to see a broad man grab his automail with thick fingers. Ed was lifted off the ground. He kicked the man wildly in the gut, but there was such a cushion there that the kick did nothing. The man grinned knowingly at him and gave Ed's arm an almighty yank.

Edward howled in pain as nerves disconnected from automail. He fell to his knees in the snow, clutching his right shoulder stump. He rolled to the side to avoid a heavy boot, but even as he struggled up again, he knew it was useless. There were eight men ten feet away from him, all glaring at him with pure hatred. A broad, medium height sized fellow strolled to him, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. Ed forced his left foot into his opponent's chest. The man doubled over, but only for a second. Ed spun every way he could think of; knowing full well that each blow struck meant one back.

Yet again, his coat was caught.

"No more dancing in the snow kid." And his coat was ripped clean off. A wide hand thumped against his chest. With a nasty sound of cracking bone, Edward was thrown clean off his feet, landing on his back in the snow. Coughing, he rolled onto his knees. A shadow passed in front of the moonlight. He looked up. All eight men were standing in close circle around him, making escape impossible. Edward hung his head and gritted his teeth. He hoped it would not take long for him to pass out.

Roy jumped out of the truck before it had stopped moving. The people who had scattered initially were now trying to break past the wall of military soldiers.

"We'll do our best to find your daughter ma'am, please…" Roy heard an officer try desperately to explain.

"Colonel!" A private slammed into Roy, stuffing a white box in his hand. "We need first aid on the field!" Roy did not hesitate to question, he took the first aid kit and ran to a house and started digging through the rubble. It wasn't long before he saw a small hand poking out. He drew a hasty rune on the ground and tapped it. The rock sank into the ground, leaving a twisted figure in its wake. Roy shook it gingerly. The child moaned, his eye twitched.

"Wake up! You can't sleep right now, your head's bleeding." ordered Roy, pouring water over the boy's forehead.

"What happened?"

"There was an attack." answered Roy quickly. "Can you move your foot?" The boy twitched his foot.

"Good." Roy breathed. "That means your back isn't broken. You're lucky. Here, sit up." He helped the boy to sit against what was left of the wall.

"Was it the Ishbalan?" asked the boy weakly.

"What Ishbalan?" said Roy sharply.

"The one…he ran…" the boy pointed to some place in the distance. Then his hand fell, he started to slide on the wall.

"No! You have to stay awake, do you understand? Do you understand?" There was no use. Roy did not check his pulse, he did not need to. The boy was gone. Without thinking, he stepped out of the ruined house and began running down the street in the direction the boy had pointed. Maybe there was still time, maybe the attacker had been injured as well.

"Where are you going Mustang?!" a booming voice called to him. Armstrong would have to wait, Roy thought. He could not afford to slow down; he had to keep running, for the sake of that boy, for the sake of the city…Roy fell hard into the cobblestone road. He peered blearily through his tearing eyes. There was a woman on top of him. She grabbed his coat, shaking it.

"Where's my little girl, can't you find her? Please! Please tell me where she is, find her!"

"I c-can't…" Roy stammered. A flash of red filled the brown color of her eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, unsure what he had seen. He opened them again. The brown had not returned, her eyes were as red as rubies. Roy gasped in shock and scrambled away from her. She only held on tighter.

"You're supposed to be helping us!" she screamed, "Why won't you find my daughter, you were supposed to keep her safe! Why don't you know where she is?"

"I don't…" At last Marco and Kimbly pulled her off. Roy stared at them.

"You're not…you're dead!" he stuttered.

"Colonel? Are you okay?" asked Marco, worriedly. Roy looked franticly around him. He was no longer at Sorrel St., he wasn't even in Central.

Flames were erupting all around him, flames he had set. He could General Gran fighting in the next street over, pleas for mercy, and Gran's laughter. This isn't right, Gran, Marco and Kimbly are dead…Roy ran further down the street. Someone here had to know what going on…But the end of the street did not lead back to Central. He was in the desert, in the place he recognized horribly as Ishbal.

"No…" he whispered "No, I don't want to go back, take me away from this place!" Out of the corner of his eye he saw a gray cloak flicker down an alley. Instinctively, he ran after it, clutching his chest. The smoke from the fires was stinging his lungs, he could not breathe, but he had to keep running.

"Hey! HEY!" he yelled at the figure ahead. It turned its eyes over its shoulder, and in the orange hue birthed by fire and smoke, Roy saw its ruby eyes, the eyes of Ishbal. It was them, why did they have to attack? It had been years, the military had left them alone! Anger swelled in Roy's chest like the flames around him. They were why that boy had died, they were why so many had been lost, and it was because of them that Edward was back in the military. The full meaning of it all flew down his arm into his glove, and Roy Mustang did not hesitate to snap.


Muahahaha...