Chapter 9: Melee

Wrath was returning to his office from a meeting with his senior generals when word came in: Scar had been sighted in downtown Central City. This was significant news. The Ishvalan assassin had a bothersome habit of killing Father's potential human sacrifices, and had caused other trouble for the homunculi. He had also proven frustratingly elusive. His reappearance provided the opportunity to dispose of him once for all.

Bradley had never clashed with Scar, but Mustang had. Granted, he had been a mere State Alchemist then, and on that particular day, his flame alchemy had been rendered useless by the rain. But he had been careless and overconfident, and it had very nearly killed him. That memory was enough to make Wrath more cautious than usual about confronting the Ishvalan, and led him to take the rare step of asking Father to send a second homunculus as backup.

He'd been hoping for Lust, or at least Pride; he hadn't expected Gluttony, the neediest and most annoying of his fellow homunculi. The rotund, simple-minded creature, who perpetually drooled and complained of hunger, had probably only been sent because no one else wanted to babysit him. Wrath made a mental note to be more specific with his backup requests in the future.

They were on a largely deserted industrial block, a few blocks from Central City's busy commercial heart, near where Scar had last been sighted. Gluttony had scrambled up to the low rooftop of the nearest building, and was galloping ahead of Wrath as he walked down the street. "I can smell him! The Ishvalan that I didn't get to eat before!" the childlike homunculus was burbling to himself. Wrath sighed.

Then out of nowhere, a shout came from above. Two people dropped onto the rooftop into Gluttony's path; Xingese, from the looks of them. A young man, expensively dressed—some kind of nobleman, at least. And a smaller man, probably a bodyguard, dressed in a baggy black hooded robe, his face covered by a grotesque wooden mask. In one motion, the smaller man landed lightly on one foot, pivoted, and kicked Gluttony in the face so hard that the homunculus went sailing through the air.

This was Wrath's first time seeing the fabled martial arts of Xing in action. The stories of their skills were evidently not exaggerated. Could these be the Elric brothers' Xingese friends? Mustang had met one of them, an old man named Fu, through Alphonse when he had arranged to smuggle Maria Ross out of the country. He didn't recognize these two, but it had to be more than coincidence.

As Gluttony recovered from the blow, the assailants took up positions above him, the nobleman on a higher rooftop, the bodyguard balancing on a utility pole. "Hi! How's it going?" the nobleman said cheerfully. "That's a pretty unusual body you've got there. Just how many people are inside of you?"

"It's no use trying to escape," added the bodyguard. The voice was higher than Wrath expected, perhaps that of an adolescent boy. "You have a distinct presence. I can follow you anywhere."

So they could somehow sense the presence of the Philosopher's Stone and the many human souls that fueled it. But they had not noticed Wrath, still on the ground about half a block away. Unlike the other homunculi, he had only one soul (at least when his host wasn't misbehaving), and was probably indistinguishable from a normal human. Good; it gave him the element of surprise. He ran up the side of the building and leapt onto the roof. "Human, this does not concern you. Leave!" the startled bodyguard shouted. But he was already charging up the pole, his sword extended. "Run, Lan Fan!" the nobleman screamed. Far too late for a warning.

His blow should have cut the bodyguard's head in two, but the small man moved more quickly than expected and parried the blow expertly with his kunai. All Wrath managed to hit was his wooden mask, which cracked in two and went flying—to reveal that "he" was actually a young woman, and a rather attractive one at that, which distracted Wrath so thoroughly that he failed to land a single additional blow.

He landed on the building ledge, chuckling, as she alighted on the opposite site of the roof. "You're good," he said admiringly. "Any chance you'd come work for me? I could always use another beautiful bodyguard. I don't think my current one has my best interests at heart."

"Don't flirt with my guard!" the nobleman interjected indignantly.

"Young Master, let me handle this," said the young woman, casting a protective glance toward him. Wrath's gaze swept from one to the other, and he hid a smile. Never mind; that girl was never going to leave her employer, or vice versa. He recognized that look.

On the building ledge beside him, Gluttony was bouncing up and down with impatience. "Can I eat her?"

Wrath sighed. It would be a terrible waste. "Yes, but do it quickly," he replied.

Gluttony pounced. To Wrath, with his unnatural vision and speed, the attack might as well have been in slow motion, and he saw immediately that it would fail. The girl simply moved too quickly. Long before Gluttony reached her original position, she had already leapt into the air to meet him, her kunai aiming for his eye.

Enough of this. Using Gluttony's attack as a diversion, Wrath leapt in to strike at her from the side. Incredibly, even faced with a second attack—and at Wrath's speed—she managed to twist in the air and nearly deflect his blow. He didn't hit any of her vital points, but landed a clean blow that sliced deeply into her left arm at the shoulder. She cried out in pain.

As Wrath landed smoothly on his feet, and Gluttony made an ungracious landing on his face, the girl went tumbling through the air and crashed to the ground. The nobleman jumped to her side, brandishing a sword. "Lan Fan—stay with me!" he cried. She was only semi-conscious. "We have to go now!" He lifted up the bodyguard's limp form, draping her over his shoulder, preparing to leap away.

"Do you really think you can escape from me that easily?" asked Wrath with a smirk, brandishing his own sword.

"Of course not!" The Xingese man was smiling cheerfully, attempting to conceal his fear. "But you never know until you try."

Wrath charged, but the nobleman was nearly as fast as his bodyguard, and very well-trained at swordfighting. Even burdened with the wounded girl, he was able to deflect all of Wrath's blows—incredible.

"I see you're no stranger to fighting," said Wrath, noting that the man kept swinging around to the right, instinctively seeking his blind spot. "I'm impressed by your skill. I should hire some of your people to train my military." The man's response was in Xingese, but sounded distinctly profane.

Oh well, enough amusement. "Gluttony!" Wrath barked.

"Right!" the homunculus responded. While Wrath kept the nobleman's attention occupied with further sword blows, Gluttony leapt, his hands balled together into a fist, and hit the target with all his strength. It was more effective than any of them were expecting. The Xingese man, still clutching his bodyguard to his shoulder, went flying off the building roof, all the way across the street, and through an upper-story window of an adjacent building.

Wrath sighed again. Why couldn't Father have sent Lust? "Come on," he grumbled, and leapt after them. He landed gracefully just inside the broken window, the interior obscured by a cloud of plaster dust from the previous impact. A moment later, Gluttony landed with a thud on the outside ledge.

Never one to waste a dramatic entrance, Wrath stepped through the dust cloud just as it parted, startling his quarry. "Now then," he said smoothly, "no one will see us in here. How about answering some questions? Who are you people, and how do you know what's inside Gluttony?" The man's eyes were darting around the room frantically, assessing potential exits. "Are you still looking for a way to escape?" taunted Wrath. "You know, you could probably get away on your own if you abandoned the girl. She's nothing but excess baggage to you now." He smirked. "Don't worry, I'll look after her. Personally."

"Excess baggage! Is that how you view your own subordinates?" The man was furious. Wrath said nothing, only maintaining a thin smile. "You're the ruler here, aren't you? This country's king?" the man continued angrily. "A king's job is to protect his people!"

I believed that once, thought Wrath, and felt a sudden, inexplicable stab of loss. No—that was Mustang's memory. Irritated, he shoved the thought away.

But the nobleman had seen his hesitation. "If you throw your people away when they become inconvenient, you will never be a true king!" he spat.

Wrath laughed. "You're a naïve fool. There are no true kings in this world!"

There was a sudden movement from the girl. In the next moment, the room exploded into a painfully bright burst of light, forcing Wrath to shield his uncovered eye. A flashbomb. Distracting him with philosophy and then disabling his vision—clever.

"You rely too heavily on your eyesight!" Wrath heard the Xingese man's voice mock him as it receded.

The voice had receded in the direction of the breeze blowing in through the broken window. In that direction, based on the man's previously observed speed…Wrath took his best guess and threw his sword. It clanged as it lodged in a wall, and he heard a gasp.

By now the flash had faded, and Wrath had torn off his eyepatch. He saw that he had not hit the nobleman, but had blocked his way. His aim must have looked much more skillful than it was; the man had stopped cold.

"Nice try," Wrath mocked. "But your flashbomb didn't succeed in blinding this eye."

The nobleman was gaping in horror at the ouroboros in Wrath's right eye. But now there was another quick movement from the girl on his shoulder, followed by a huge blast of smoke. Dimly through the haze, Wrath saw the man's silhouette leaping for the broken window. He leapt after them, then had to backtrack abruptly as the girl threw another object directly at him. A grenade. As the room exploded, Wrath barely made it to the shelter of the adjacent hallway, yanking Gluttony after him to block some of the blast.

While the dust settled and Gluttony regenerated, Wrath watched through the broken window as his quarry ran down the street. Well, it wasn't like they could outrun him. "A flashbomb, a smoke bomb, and a hand grenade. These kids are out of their minds," he muttered, smiling in spite of himself. He hadn't had this much fun in years. "Can you follow them by scent?" he asked Gluttony, who nodded. "Go around from the east and follow them. Don't come out onto the main street. Corner them into the dead end up ahead."

While Gluttony lumbered after them over the rooftop, Wrath replaced his eyepatch, then straightened and brushed off his uniform coat. And they still had to take care of Scar after this, he reminded himself as he leapt back down to ground level. It was lucky that he had just acquired a younger body. He wasn't sure the old one would have been able to keep up.

He caught up to Gluttony quickly, and they resumed their pursuit. But as they turned a corner, from the next block came a deafening crash and a brilliant blast of light. It was unmistakably alchemical in nature, and extremely powerful. "That must be Scar," he said to Gluttony. "You go after him. I'll finish things here."

It wasn't difficult for Wrath to tell which way the Xingese assailants had gone; the girl's arm was so badly injured that she had left a trail of blood. It led to the end of the street, but they had doubled back at the dead end. From there the trail became more erratic, weaving back and forth through several alleys, even looping behind garbage cans. Something wasn't right. But he only realized what it was when he turned a corner, reached the end of the blood trail, and found himself facing…a dog. With a severed arm, clad in a black sleeve, strapped to its back. The girl had cut off her own arm and used it as a decoy.

"Nicely played," he said aloud to no one, with a grim smile. How badly he had underestimated them—and especially her. He sighed wistfully; if only she had taken him up on his job offer.

He disposed of the arm in a garbage can (no sense in alarming the citizenry), then hurried to the next block to catch up with Gluttony. But the noises of battle had already stopped. Surely the simple-minded homunculus hadn't managed to subdue Scar on his own…?

Wrath rounded the corner of the street and stopped cold. The street was deserted, but evidence of a fierce alchemical battle was everywhere: the pavement and walls were torn up, a water tower shattered, and on every disrupted surface were the telltale patterns of transmutation. There were shapes transmuted into the debris too, rectangular pillars and even huge sculpted hands, which he recognized as the style of the Elric brothers. Fullmetal, he growled to himself. What was that boy up to? Who had won the battle? And most importantly, where was Gluttony?