Fullmetal Alchemist: Transmutation of the Unknowable

by Lacan Shinn

A small change in the sequence of events during the hunt for Isaac McDougal leads Edward and Alphonse Elric to learn the truth about Amestris before they visit Liore. Now the God within the planet's Gateway is sought by a broken alchemist born in Milos who desires to use the Truth as a tool to destroy what's real. Episode One divergent retelling of FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST: BROTHERHOOD.

10. The Star of a Greedy Fool

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CHAPTER 10:

THE STAR OF A GREEDY FOOL

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The tunnels beyond the underground water source were darker than the cavern the lake had been in, lit just by the same blue-green lichen that had been clinging to the surface of the lake and that now clung to streams flowing in crevices to the right and left of the tunnel floor.

Alphonse was walking as close to Julia's left side as he was willing to risk, wanting to try to avoid causing her discomfort, and he hoped he was succeeding. He had his right hand open so she knew she could reach over and clasp it any time, but she hadn't. Whether that was because it would have made her uncomfortable or she didn't want to rely on him that much, he didn't know, and he didn't care. He cared about being there if she needed him.

They reached another split in the tunnels, one the crevice to the left crossed to continue on at the left side of the right tunnel. A boulder was laid over the crevice to serve as a bridge to the left tunnel, and Miranda led them into the right one.

After a time, a red-orange glow showed from up ahead, and then the tunnel widened into a large cavern.

"What is this place?" Brother questioned.

In openings of various sizes in the walls on the sides of the cavern around them and the walls before them, many of which extended back to one or more other tunnels, countless skulls lay in groups, lit by the same blue-green lichen. Five of the openings to the left of the pathway were empty of skulls, and were the source of the red-orange light, though whatever was giving it off, be it lava or torches, was too far back in the openings for Alphonse to see what it was. The crevice at their left ran through the cavern up to a waterfall that spilled from a stream cutting across the path and flowing through an opening in the far walls, and to their right, the stream widened.

"This is a tomb," Julia responded, her voice as agonized as before, and Al's heart ached. "It used to be a thriving city, where hundreds of thousands of Milosians once lived. But that was approximately four hundred years ago. When the Cretans came, they forced our ancestors down to the valley floor in order to acquire the Stone of Immortality for themselves."

Alphonse's brother clenched his teeth. "So the Cretans did seek the Philosopher's Stone as well. Could you please tell us more? How did they intend to obtain it? Or do you know?"

"We know," Miranda spoke. "I'll let you know once we've reached the Requiem Room, if Atlas isn't there. In return, I'd be thankful if you'd tell us everything you know about the Crimson Star. We want it for ourselves, as a means of reestablishing Milos as an independent nation."

Al had been afraid of that. Brother grimaced. "Keep leading the way," he replied.

Miranda gave Brother a look that told them she was aware he hadn't agreed to tell them about the Star, but turned and continued down the path.

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They entered a roughly round cavern with a thin stream of water flowing along the floor near the wall to their right, relative to facing the back of the cavern, and another thin stream of water flowing along the wall to the same relative left. The cavern was lit by lanterns in the floor surrounding a large model of what must have been a city the Milosians inhabited where Table City now was in the approximate center, and a large circular schematic diagram of the city was on the wall behind it at the opposite end of the cavern, circled by a mural. There were no other entrances to the cavern, and no one else was in it.

Alphonse sighed in relief.

"Good," Miranda said. "Atlas may not have found this place. We don't know he hasn't been here and left before we arrived, or hasn't seen something else that might lead him to the Star's location, but there's a possibility he hasn't come here."

She walked in the direction of the diagram, and the other Milosians with them, including Julia, fanned out around the cavern, a few of the Milosians taking positions on the rocks between the stream to the relative right and the relative right wall. Al followed her, Brother followed him, and the Milosians with rifles aimed them at the entrance while the ones without weapons watched in warily.

"So this is the Requiem Room," his brother spoke.

"Indeed," Miranda responded. "This is the innermost area of our base." She reached the diagram, turned, and faced them. "We call it the Requiem Room because it's a place of repose for the spirits of our people; the spirits of those of us who died when we dug up the valley and those who died in battle."

"The valley was excavated?" Brother questioned. "Was this so Creta could look for the Philosopher's Stone?"

"That's right," Miranda replied. "The valley around the holy land wasn't nearly as deep as it is now generations ago. When our ancestors founded Milos, they set apart the hill upon which Table City rests, what they called the Hill of Milos, as a holy land in order to worship Poros, the mountain of God. At that time, a legend arose that said a Stone of Immortality was buried somewhere around the hill. The stone has another name. The people of Milos call it 'the Crimson Star.'

"Around four hundred years ago, Creta learned of the legend and launched an all-out invasion of Milos. They overran our tiny nation, and spent the next approximately three hundred years extensively scouring the area in search of the Crimson Star. That was how the valley as you see it now was formed.

"They robbed us of our homes, and coerced us to work like slaves, digging deeper and deeper for any sign of the Stars they believed were hidden in what had once been Milos. When their army at last departed unsuccessfully, all that remained of Milos was this poisonous valley and the ruins created by ravaging it. Since then, they have governed us as part of Creta from the western cliffs."

Brother sighed in relief.

Alphonse was confused. "What's there to be relieved about?"

"Pedro told me Creta oppressed the Milosians to further their alchemic research," his brother replied. "I was afraid Creta's research was more dangerous than that search."

Alphonse knew why.

Miranda wasn't done talking. "When Amestris invaded, the Cretans didn't use their own forces to combat the Amestrian military. They drafted the Milosians to battle the Amestrians in their place, and many Milosians were killed in the conflict." Miranda turned and touched the mural. "The names of the Milosians who died during those battles are engraved in this mural." She turned back to face Alphonse and the others, continuing to speak as she did. "Even with the holy land lost, however, Creta compelled us to remain in the valley, as a human shield for the border.

"There are no records of Creta recovering a single Star and deporting it into their nation, so we have no choice but to assume they still lie somewhere in the holy land. Thus, we have devoted much of our alchemical research to discovering the holy land's secret ourselves." Brother clenched his teeth. This was another dead end. "The map within the mural is a schematic diagram created by alchemists as part of our attempts to find the Star."

Julia turned to Al, and the determination he'd seen before was on her face even through its anguish. "I'm going to take your advice about the Doorway of Truth." Alphonse's legs almost buckled. "But that means the only recourse left to us is the Crimson Star. We can't turn away from that as our salvation as well.

"Please, Al. I'm certain the Star possesses its own dangers, but you've got to help us this time. My people hate the Cretans, and our alchemical secrets are the reason Creta drove us into the valley. To the other Milosians, alchemy is something that reminds them of the horrible suffering they've endured." Julia's tone was now angry and resentful as well as anguished. "Alchemical researchers, such as my parents, were despised by most of the rest of our people because of this. That's why we had to emigrate into Creta.

"But shunning a means to carve ourselves a future because of the past won't change anything. If we're going to claw our way out of the valley, Milosian alchemists and the rest of my people have to fight together. We need the greater strength nothing but transmutations can provide us. We need the power of alchemy, and the enduring power of the holy land.

"Please, tell us everything you know this time. We have no other hope but the Star."

Alphonse's non-existent stomach twisted violently. One or more Philosopher's Stones might already exist in the Milosian area, so that meant they had to reveal how to transmute the Stone, or the Milosians might sacrifice souls that might still be living and still as human as he was if they found a Stone. Al still wasn't sure whether that was right or wrong, but at present he doubted it was okay too much to sit back and let other people possibly do it. Telling the Milosians the truth might not change anything, and might make things worse because the Milosians would then know how to create new Philosopher's Stones, but there was a chance it would change things, and a good chance – the Milosians had accepted him and Brother without too much trouble – so they had to take the risk.

But they couldn't do this. Shattering Rose's hopes had been bad enough, and her love had most likely been dead for a good amount of time before they'd destroyed them. Julia had discovered the brother she loved was dead today. If they told her the truth about the Stone, in multiple ways they'd hurt her far worse than they'd hurt Rose.

However, as with Liore and Rose, there was no other choice they could make.

Al loathed it. He knew they were no different than Tucker and the one called Father, but that didn't mean he was all right with what that meant. He could never be all right with what that meant.

He could be even less all right with it when they were going to do this to someone like Julia.

Alphonse knelt before Julia in case he appeared threatening to her in any way, wanting to try to make this easier for her to accept in at least a slight way, if that was possible, by trying to cause himself to appear less threatening, and to attempt to do something similar for the other Milosians. Then he spoke, "Very well." Julia sighed. "We'll tell you things we know about the Stone, as I didn't about the Portal. But not because it's any safer than the Portal of Truth. We'll tell you because it's as dangerous."

Julia went white, and Al held out his hands to her. She didn't move for a few seconds, and then gripped them tightly. Alphonse knew he wouldn't be able to comfort Julia much, though, and he wasn't just aware of this since he knew she'd taken his hands because he could give her less comfort than the other Milosians and thus she could confront the revelations better herself taking support from him as opposed to another Milosian.

"The ingredients for what you call the Crimson Star are the souls of living humans," Brother revealed to her straight out.

Miranda gasped, and there were varying audible and visual reactions of surprise and shock throughout the cavern. Julia's eyes flew wide, and she began shaking very violently. She gripped Alphonse's hands so hard her knuckles went white, and Al clasped them back tightly, wishing he could draw her anguish out of her by doing so and take it into himself, so she wouldn't have to feel it.

"It's composed of living people?" she asked, horror transcending the name shrinking her voice down to something small and very young.

"Yes," Brother replied. "I was a fool to believe something could exist that breaks Equivalent Exchange and the other laws that govern the world, and is bound by no limits. The Philosopher's Stone is the essence of limits. Finite lives are condensed into a single whole by transmutation, and it's by restricting and spending these limited lives a person can defy the natural order. It's not a philosopher's stone. It's the stone of a greedy fool, stained with blood."

Julia collapsed to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut, shaking much harder, tears brimming out from under her closed eyelids and falling down her face. "That can't be... This is the holy land's secret? No… my parents lost their lives working to create the Star… my brother died because they were researching the Star… and they died for this?" Alphonse gripped her hands harder, hating himself for being totally unable to take the barest microgram of her agony away. Why was he an alchemist? "For a catalyst born of slaughter? How can this be the worker of alchemy our scientists spent centuries striving for?"

She pulled her hands out of Al's and buried her face in them. "This can't be true. The Doorway of Truth… the Crimson Star… we can't utilize any of them. What have we been fighting for all this time?"

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Atlas staggered into the lichen-lit cavern, pressing his right wrist to his side and pressing his left palm to that side beneath his left arm. Once again he cursed himself for a complete idiot.

It hadn't just been his stupidity in not thinking to ask if the Fullmetal Alchemist had heard of Alan before making up a story about him. He was sure of that now. He'd been an idiot not to read up more on the Fullmetal Alchemist in the newspapers in prison. Anyone who could gain a State Alchemist certification at the age of twelve had merited study. He should have learned all he could about the brat long before it was time to take Julia's portion of the Star map. If he had, he would have known how good the bastard was and would have used the unique equations in his circles to transmute with them simultaneously. Or he would never have taken the high ground in the cavern, preventing him from transmuting his boomerang crescents against the boy as effectively as he'd needed to.

He burned with shame. He'd prided himself for almost singlehandedly planning out, adjusting, and executing a plot possessing multiple layers of subterfuge, including two false identities and pretending he wanted to create a nation greater than Creta to gain Sergeant Raul's help. Earlier today, when he'd been surrounded by Milosians virtually in the open with a small chance of living through a battle with them and retaining Julia, he'd adjusted his plan by opening up the possibility he'd work with the Milosians to lure enough of the vain Soyuz' soldiers to the points of the citywide transmutation circle the Star would be transmuted once Atlas completed the circle. He'd thought himself a brilliant military strategist who would have been promoted to the highest rank Creta's military possessed by now if he hadn't deserted.

Yet he hadn't thought to know all his potential enemies.

He didn't know if it had been arrogance, or carelessness, or both, but he was furious with himself for his stupidity as much as he was furious with the Fullmetal Alchemist, his brother, and Miranda for imperiling his efforts this close to success.

He was not going to make a mistake like that again.

Thankfully, he'd learned enough from Doctor Crichton's research he had plenty of options to fall back on to work around the hurdles he'd constructed before himself, so he still had a good chance to adjust his plan again, not make such a mistake, and obtain the Star.

His first step needed to be to learn as much as he could about what the Milosians were going to do now that they knew Ashleigh Crichton wasn't the key they'd been waiting for to reclaim Milos. To that end, he'd hidden in these underground city ruins to lure the Milosians to the Requiem Room and to escape the additional wolf Chimeras he was sure the Cretan military had dispatched to reinforce the one who had found him through robbing them of a scent to follow by swimming across the underground lake. He had no doubt the Chimera he'd killed had signaled Creta Atlas had been located, probably with a compact radio hidden under his tongue.

The Milosian city on the Hill of Milos Creta had covered up with Table City wasn't the sole Milosian city to possess a three-dimensional transmutation circle made up of pipes that could also serve as speaking tubes. The Milosians of yore had attempted to build a transmutation circle for creating the Star in this city as well, and had failed, ending up with a circle that would have unleashed a disastrous rebound. But the pipes in this city still functioned as speaking tubes, and the one in this cavern ended behind the mural and diagram map in the Requiem Room nearby.

Atlas rested his head in the crack in the wall the end of the golden pipe was hidden in and pressed his ear to the tube's opening.

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Once again, there was nothing Al could say.

And now he was tired of it.

There'd been little he could say to his brother about the reality behind the Philosopher's Stone, about the nationwide transmutation circle, about Ishval, about Nina, about Winry's and Granny's captivity, about the planet's nervous system, about the destruction of Xerxes, and about the other things they'd learned of and had happened. There'd been nothing he could say to Julia about the murders of her family. Now there was nothing he could say to Julia about the revelation her family had died for nothing, and one of the things she'd hoped for most was a substance created by slaughter.

Alphonse knew it was impossible for him to grow up, and he extremely highly doubted there was any limit to the damage his childishness could do, but this was the final straw. He couldn't live with those inabilities, and his helplessness, any longer.

He had to think of the things he knew were out there to say this time.

But what was there to say?

"We've been fighting for a future we're willing to sacrifice our lives for, Julia," a male in garments of differing shades of light blue, with a transmutation circle on the outside of each forearm, short brown hair, a pointed short brown beard, brown eyes, and a scar running from above the left side of his mouth to his chin spoke before Al could think for more than a short time.

"Vatanen," Miranda said, surprised to hear him talk.

"There's no reason to be upset about how the Star is transmuted," Vatanen went on. "If it genuinely is created from human souls, it doesn't matter. Every single one of us is willing to risk our lives to secure our nation's future, and spend them if need be. So what if the Star needs to be fed human souls to be made?" He smiled. "Feed it our souls." Julia started, and looked up at him, and Brother started too. Alphonse's eyes widened in horror, and he began shaking violently. He hadn't been sure they'd be able to dissuade the Milosians from pursuing the Stone, but he hadn't believed he'd hear this. "We'd be glad to sacrifice our souls if it means our freedom."

"Are you serious?" Al's brother questioned. "You're saying Julia should spend the lives of her companions?"

"Yes," Vatanen responded. "There are things people are willing to sacrifice their lives in order to obtain, and a future free of oppression and exploitation is one of them." He walked over to Julia and knelt before her. "Forgive me, Julia, for how we treated you and your family when you originally lived here." He closed his eyes in guilt and shame as he spoke these words. "I owe you my sincere apologies." He opened his eyes. "But even so, I have to request this of you… Please, transmute us. Sacrifice us, create a Star, and wield it to reestablish Milos. I know you're a beginner at alchemy, but you're still better than I am. No one else can do it."

Horror consumed Al absolutely at the expression on Julia's face. She appeared horrified at the concept, but she also looked like she believed Vatanen's words might have value. Al gazed at her, transfixed.

Brother glared at Vatanen, then turned back to Julia.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," Brother spoke. "He's talking about exploiting other people in order to make your dreams come true. Is that your concept of happiness?"

But Julia reached up and rubbed her eyes, her shaking began subsiding, and Alphonse knew if he had a heart, it would have stopped.

"I understand that," she said, countless emotions in her voice. "But no other path is open to us. You live in a powerful, prosperous nation. You don't spend each day fearing for your death. You don't wake up each morning wondering if this day will be your last. Please, we don't have that luxury!"

"We live in terror of the endless battle waged by two countries for each other's alchemical abilities, territory, and wealth," Miranda interjected. "In order to put an end to this and bring peace and safety to our people, we're going to need to restore the holy land, and to achieve that, we'll need the Star. If you don't want us to use it, I won't ask you for any further information about the Star, but don't try to convince us not to harness it. The salvation of Milos is a cause worth giving up anything for."

"Our lives aren't as different from yours as you think," Brother replied, and Al's eyes widened. He hadn't believed his brother would be willing to reveal anything about the real lives the people of Amestris were living. But now that his brother was discussing it, Alphonse was aware why. The Milosians weren't going to attempt to sacrifice others to transmute the Stone. They were going to attempt to sacrifice their own soldiers, to the last person if need be. Telling the Milosians the truth about Amestris' history and what its leaders intended for it wouldn't cause any greater harm. "We're powerful and prosperous, but that's because the head of our nation wants to use that power and prosperity to exploit its people to transmute a Philosopher's Stone himself."

Julia whirled to look at Brother, eyes wide and mouth open.

"Our power and prosperity hasn't made us safe," Al's brother continued. "It's put us in danger, although most of us don't know it. But Al and I do, and trust us, the Stone hasn't brought us peace. It's brought us numerous wars. Additionally, we do have Stones already," Miranda gasped, "And they've been used to bring about wholesale slaughter in one of those wars." The blood drained from Julia's face. "The lure of the Philosopher's Stone has incited battle and terror, and enabled wholesale murder, and there's a special kind of Stone that can enable an alchemist to do something even worse. It can enable an alchemist to gain the knowledge inside the greatest Gateway of Truth, that doesn't just store a lot of knowledge but that literally stores all the information on every single thing in reality."

Julia looked as if her mind had stopped processing what was going on, and she reached out with one hand and took one of Al's. He squeezed it tightly.

There were words and expressions and sounds of disbelief from the others in the cavern, save for from Miranda, who just looked at Brother, her face a mask.

"You wanted to open a regular Portal of Truth to harness the power of magma," Al addressed Julia. "By learning the secrets behind the supreme Gateway, an alchemist can harness far greater powers, which have the potential to wreck far more devastation. The Philosopher's Stone isn't a means of attaining security. As long as you have one, Milos will be in more danger than it is now."

"Let us know the whole story," Miranda requested, voice betraying nothing of what she felt.

"Have you heard of Xerxes?" Brother asked, and Miranda nodded. "Good. Do you know what a Homunculus is?"

"An artificial human transmuted by alchemy," Miranda responded. "I assume you're going to tell me one was transmuted in Xerxes, created a Crimson Star, and used it to lay waste to the country."

"No," Brother corrected her. "An artificial human was transmuted in Xerxes and created a Philosopher's Stone by laying waste to the nation."

Julia's hand gripped Al's a little tighter, but she still appeared to be having too much trouble processing reality to be genuinely aware of what Al's brother's words meant. There was more audible and visual disbelief, as well as shock, from the other people in the room, including Miranda, whose eyes went wide.

"You can transmute special Stones by deconstructing more souls in a Stone transmutation circle than you need to transmute a regular one," Brother went on. "Further, these special Stones can do things even regular Stones can't. Human transmutation can work on Homunculi," there were more sounds of disbelief from the people in the cavern besides Miranda and Julia, "And the one transmuted from everyone in Xerxes gave the Homunculus who set up the transmutation a literally immortal Stone body."

There was no audible disbelief, surprise, or shock this time, just visual shock, disbelief, and surprise. The Milosians now obviously knew now their belief in what was credible was going to be tested repeatedly before the story was done. Miranda's face was again a mask.

Julia, though, looked no more aware of reality, and Al's heart ached. He squeezed her hand tightly again.

"The Homunculus was born from the Truth inside a flask and wanted to a body he would be free in. But this wasn't enough for him. He wants freedom from everything. He also wants to realize an alchemist's greatest dream, and what he believes is the dream of all life forms; full knowledge of the truth, literal Godhood," Vatanen gasped, but he was the sole person to audibly react, and once again Julia and Miranda didn't visibly or audibly react, "And perfection."

"I see where this is going," Miranda interrupted. "He was the one who founded Amestris over three hundred fifty years ago, and he established it as a military state and taught its people alchemy with the end of making the nation prosperous through its use of alchemy, luring countless people to inhabit it. And so he could expand the nation to the size it is today by force. This would provide him with millions of people he could use an underground nationwide circle to transmute an even more exceptional Star from," something of that reached Julia on a deeper level than anything else had since she'd lost the ability to process reality, and though she didn't appear further aware of reality now, she swayed and clasped Al's hand as if it were a life raft. Al shifted to catch her if she fainted and held her hand tighter, "One he would use to become all-knowing. Am I correct this time?"

"Yes," Brother replied, "But there's more to it than that. Blood is needed to power a transmutation circle that transmutes a Stone. He needed a military to massacre uncountable people at the points of his desired transmutation circle. Have you heard of the Ishvalan Civil War?"

"Yes," Miranda spoke back.

"That's the worst example of the massacres he orchestrated so far. He ordered a soldier to shoot an Ishvalan child, provoking the Ishvalans to rebel, and when the Ishvalans had made enough of a nuisance of themselves with their rebellion, the Fϋhrer of Amestris, who answers to the Homunculus, sent in State Alchemists to wage a War of Extermination, two of them with imperfect Philosopher's Stones that could break at any time, on the Ishvalans. Our military inflicted genocide."

Al squeezed Julia's hand tightly.

"He also extended a colossal Stone broken off from the Stone that is his body beneath Amestris," another gasp from Vatanen, nothing from Miranda, Julia clasped Alphonse's hand a little tighter, and visual reactions from the other Milosians, "For two purposes. One was to inhibit the connection we have with the energy that enables us to transmute, tectonic energy, so we can be completely cut off from it if we challenge the leaders of our country. The other is so he can transmute a soul body big enough to pass through the Gateway of Truth; he's spread a greater physical body, made up of another Stone broken off his primary Stone, through his base in Central so the greater physical body can serve as the core of the soul body as well.

"He plans to use the Stone he transmutes from the people within Amestris to imprison the repository of all knowledge in his body. The omniscient Truth is held within the nervous system of the planet itself," Julia held Alphonse's hand a little tighter, and Alphonse once more squeezed it tightly, "A nervous system that takes in every memory of all the Ones within the All, and is thus God." Brother was given a number of skeptical looks by Milosians other than Miranda, Julia, and Vatanen. "And to acquire the ultimate Truth you need to obtain the nervous system. He'll open the Gateway through transmuting energy unleashed on our plane by forcing the previously opened Portals of Truth of five alchemists who have participated in human transmutation to repel each other in this regular dimension. I'm certain that's the true reason the military created a State Alchemist corps in Amestris; they wanted a system for selecting sacrifices.

"If we haven't been able to delay him from shedding blood at one of the unstained points of the circle long enough, we just have until the day of a solar eclipse this forthcoming June to stop him, his Homunculus children, Fϋhrer Bradley, and High Command; to further delay a bloodbath at that point; and to delay bloodshed at the other unstained point. The underground nationwide circle will have been fully constructed by that point, if it hasn't been already. Once it is, and the Homunculus his children call Father carves a crest of blood at two remaining locations, he'll be able to transmute himself into a perfect being when the Sun and the Moon intersect.

"Now do you believe you'll be endangering Milos if you use the Stone to save it, as opposed to making it safe?"

Miranda didn't say anything back for a number of seconds. Then she questioned, face still a mask, "The Hill of Milos is outside of Amestris proper. Is this area within the range of the nationwide transmutation circle?"

"I can't tell you," Alphonse's brother responded. "I don't know what the circle looks like."

Miranda was quiet again for more seconds. Then she spoke, "In that case, we may need the Star even more than we thought we did." Alphonse's heart plummeted into an incredibly deep chasm. "Nothing else may be able to shield us from the effects of the nationwide transmutation circle, and we cannot leave our fate in the hands of foreigners. But even if we didn't need it for that purpose, it wouldn't matter. I see the dangers inherent in wielding the Star, but we don't have the numbers, the terrain, or the resources to retake Milos without it. I thank you for your generosity in attempting to convince us not to use the Star, but we must take the risk. If we don't, we won't have a secure future. We're going to transmute the Star, or find an existing Star, and transmute with it."

Brother sighed. "As that's how you feel, there's no point in continuing this conversation much further. The last things I'll say will be these: I'm going to do my best to replace the current Amestrian government of Table City with one that will treat you properly, and if we're able to depose the Fϋhrer, the new Amestrian government will return your sacred hill to you and negotiate with Creta on your behalf for the return of the rest of your territory. However, I know you have no reason to believe a new government of Table City or Amestris will do any of those things or to want to wait, and I myself can't guarantee negotiations with Creta will be successful, so I won't try to convince you to let us put an end to your suffering. I want you to know we're going to make the effort to, though."

Miranda's face remained a mask the entire time his brother talked about this.

His brother turned to Alphonse. "Let's go, Al."

The Milosians aimed their rifles at them.

That brought Julia back to reality. She released Al and got to her feet, shaking beyond extremely violently, running in front of Al and Brother. "No!" she cried, her voice causing her to sound like she wasn't able to start to wrap her mind around the things she'd recently heard the most infinitesimal bit, but causing her to sound like she was fully aware of reality again. "They helped us and saved me, and Al was willing to give his life for me! We have no reason to believe they can unlock the secret of the holy land any sooner than we can! Please, let them go!"

Miranda was silent for a few seconds, and then gestured to the Milosians to lower their rifles.

Alphonse sighed heavily in relief.

Then he got to his feet and looked at Julia, having no idea what to do. With Atlas as badly wounded as he was, the Milosians could probably keep Julia safe by themselves if he tried to capture her again. In addition, once Alphonse and Brother destroyed whatever transmutation circle the Milosians had constructed to transmute the Philosopher's Stone, there would be no reason to be terrified Julia would kill or imprison anyone. Further, once they did, he'd find her and talk to her, so this wasn't goodbye.

But he couldn't leave her after everything she'd been through since they'd discovered the figure claiming to be Ashleigh wasn't Ashleigh. Her life had been wrecked and turned upside down a number of times over. Al couldn't even begin to imagine how much torture she had to be in.

Julia forced a smile, and Al wanted to cry at how fake it was. "I'll make it," she said. "I have Miranda and my people with me. I'm very thankful to you for all you've spoken and done for me and were willing to do, even more so because I barely know you. In addition, I wish I could spend more time with you to come to know you; you have a caring spirit that's very rare in this world, and I want to know more about you. But I've come this far without…" her voice broke, "Ashleigh… and just with the people of this valley. I can do it again.

"So, please. I won't ask you not to worry about me, because I know you're too kind not to, but I want you to leave me here and continue taking your own path. Maybe mine and yours will intersect one day, but until then, I don't want to hold you back. Knowing I'm not will make things easier for me. If you want to do something for me, please, go."

Since that was how she felt, Al couldn't refuse. He wanted to do something for her so much it was almost a physical thing, and he wanted to cry even more now that he knew he could, even though it would just be something tiny, if even that.

"Okay," he responded. "But when we unlock the secrets of the holy land, I'll find you before we leave. This isn't farewell."

"I know," Julia spoke.

"Be strong," Al said, and then turned and let Brother lead the way out of the Requiem Room.

.

Atlas leaned against the opening of the tube, eyes wide, still in disbelief.

There was something out there that enabled transmutations that could even surpass the Crimson Star, and surpass it so far it made the Crimson Star appear like a firecracker.

Not just that, special Crimson Stars could confer immortality, and he had no doubts obtaining and successfully confining the planet's nervous system did the same thing.

He was no longer furious with himself, or with the Fullmetal Alchemist. His stupidity hadn't severely jeopardized his success at acquiring the ultimate alchemical treasure. It had been a stroke of luck he'd been such an idiot. If he hadn't been, if he'd still been with the Milosians, he might not have been able to seek the planet's nervous system himself without raising suspicion.

He couldn't believe it, but he wasn't so much of an idiot he'd pass up an opportunity like this now that he knew about it. Maybe the Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother were lying, but Atlas was going to take that risk.

He was going to take the planet's nervous system into his body, not a fake facsimile of a natural-born human whose existence was an affront to everything nature represented.

He'd use that to exalt himself above everyone.

He clenched his teeth, though. He knew what his first step had to be, and he didn't care to make it. He'd been willing to endure living as a prisoner in Amestris for over four years, but the concept of turning himself in to the military he despised and living as their prisoner was another thing fully.

He had to do it, however. He knew he was smart and clever, but he wasn't so arrogant he could believe he'd be able to outwit an entire group of conspirators who had been manipulating a whole nation for over three-and-a-half centuries by himself. He'd need help if he was going to obtain the planet's nervous system, and he wasn't going to get it unless he pretended to have seen the error of his ways, returned to the Cretan military, and established a large network of contacts among it.

He was certain he'd be pardoned within a matter of weeks. He'd have to tell whatever officer was in charge of Milos about the planet's nervous system to gain a pardon, and that meant he'd be attempting to outwit two countries to gain the nervous system rather than one, but no other information would be valuable enough to the Cretan military to get him pardoned; not even information about the network of Stars below Amestrian soil.

But he didn't want to spend even an hour in a Cretan military prison. The Cretan army was an unimaginative institution of wool-headed clowns who blindly followed orders with the belief doing what other people told them to without question made their lives worthwhile and didn't think or want anything for themselves. He didn't want to act that subservient to them for a fraction of a second. He was aware the Cretan military was no different than most militaries, and if he could tolerate living in a prison in a military state he could tolerate living in a Cretan military prison, but he'd spent years putting up with the Cretan military's nonsense. He hadn't spent years putting up with the Amestrian military's nonsense.

He could shoulder being a chained hound in Amestris. He couldn't shoulder being a chained hound to the Cretan army.

But that was how Equivalent Exchange worked. Nothing could be gained without sacrifice. He'd bear it as long as he had to.

He pushed himself off the wall of the cavern with his left hand, ignoring the pain it caused him, and walked off in search of one of the wolf Chimeras.

Hopefully, the Milosians and the Elrics had revealed to the Chimeras they weren't with Atlas any longer, so the Chimeras weren't sure whether Atlas knew they were hunting him and he was fleeing from them or just the Elrics and the Milosians, and the Chimeras were still in the cave complex, waiting for a time to see if he returned across the water source.

.

Ed stood to the right of his younger brother atop one of the plateaus facing Table City the supports of the train bridges rested on, looking down at the smoke ascending from a funeral pyre on the valley floor in the twilight. They'd passed the people gathering for this funeral on the way out of the valley. Edward had thought of attending, but it hadn't felt right when they were going to be smashing the Milosians' greatest hope.

Even though they hadn't attended, however, he'd wanted to watch the funeral from a distance. As an Amestrian, he owed this to the Milosians. Furthermore, as a person, he owed this to Pedro for failing to keep him alive. Pedro might be one of the people who was burning.

"This is one of the things I meant when I talked about how alchemy doesn't solve every problem," Al spoke up. "The valley floor is dark even though night hasn't fallen, and the people of Milos have had to look up at the bright sky from the shadowed valley floor during the day. Yet the science of alchemy hasn't given them a way to climb into the Sunlight without shedding blood."

"Maybe it will," Edward said, "Once the Stone isn't an option."

He'd watched the funeral long enough. He turned to Alphonse. "But I have something more important to discuss with you."

Alphonse cringed, and then looked down. "I know," he spoke, so much guilt in his voice Ed was aware the guilt in it didn't even scratch the surface of what Al felt the barest amount. "But there was no other way. I knew what it would do to you," Ed's chest felt a miniscule bit less tight, "But I couldn't choose another path. What do you wish I'd have done? Let Julia die?"

Edward opened his mouth, letting the agony that wasn't anguish and the terror surmounting words and the fury and everything else he'd felt when Al had tried to sacrifice himself consume him absolutely, about to give Al a tongue-lashing more severe in numerous ways than any he'd given anyone in his whole life–

But Ed could think of nothing to say.

Yes, Al had been stupid. Yes, Al had hurt Edward horribly, and would have hurt him even worse if he'd succeeded. But as stupid as Al had been, what should he say when Edward, too, knew Alphonse couldn't have made a different choice in good conscience?

Ed couldn't stop himself from wondering if there was anything he could say.

He couldn't believe that. Dying and leaving someone who loved you behind was more wrong than almost anything could be. When people loved you, your life wasn't yours to give up as you saw fit. Ed saw that now. It was indescribably selfish, and incomprehensibly irresponsible. No matter what happened, you couldn't throw away your life. You had to go on living so you didn't cause the people who loved you to suffer.

But when the alternative was letting someone else die, when there truly was no other way to save someone else but to sacrifice yourself, what were you supposed to do then?

Edward wanted to believe there was always another way, but after what had happened when Alphonse had tried to give his life, he couldn't be fully sure he wasn't fooling himself by believing that.

Nor could he believe there was nothing he could say, though. It could never be right to sacrifice your life.

But he couldn't think of anything to say. It could never be right, but he didn't know what that other way he been.

His fury drained away, leaving him so exhausted now it went deeper than his spirit, never mind his bones. He looked to the side.

"Never mind," he spoke. "Let's rest here for the night, repair the train station in the morning, and then solve the riddle of this place."

He was too exhausted to care any more than he cared he couldn't use his automail forearm when he felt a surge of desire at the thought they might be holding a complete Philosopher's Stone in their hands tomorrow.

.

Ashleigh Crichton stood in the cell, looking down at his own face, worn by the person who had murdered his parents.

Atlas sat shackled to the back wall of the cell by his wrists and ankles, the blood from his injuries and the blood he'd used to draw the transmutation circles he'd learned through stealing Ashleigh's parents' research cleaned off of him, and a collar attached to the wall around Atlas' neck so he couldn't form transmutation circles by biting his fingers again. They knew that was how Atlas had drawn his transmutation circles; Sergeant Benjamin had reported seeing damaged flesh on Atlas' fingers, though it was gone now, probably the result of a medical transmutation Julia had performed.

Ashleigh wished with all his heart he could avenge his parents right now, but as much as he hated it, he couldn't do that. The situation hadn't changed as he'd believed it had when he'd learned Atlas had done a good job teaching himself Ashleigh's parents' alchemical techniques. Even though Atlas was almost certainly lying about how seeing Julia again had caused him to feel guilty for his crimes and to want to turn himself in, seek a pardon, and resume serving the military, so long as Atlas was executing whatever his new plot was where Cretan soldiers could keep a close eye on him, Ashleigh could still use Atlas even if he was able to trick a military tribunal into pardoning him. As Ashleigh had originally believed he'd have to, he couldn't avenge his parents until he'd gotten all the use he could out of the bastard.

Furthermore, even if he could have, he still wouldn't be able to kill Atlas here in this cell. If Ashleigh murdered a defenseless prisoner and didn't let the prisoner stand trial in a court and be condemned to execution, Ashleigh would become a fugitive.

"Lieutenant Colonel Herschel," Atlas asked, "I take it? Nice mask. Not as realistic as mine, but you designed it well all the same."

Ashleigh ground his teeth, but he suppressed the urge to fist his hands. He might as well get used to treating Atlas cordially as soon as possible.

That didn't mean there was any reason not to get to the point, though.

"I'm pleased to hear you regret your desertion and your criminal activities," Ashleigh spoke back, voice distorted by his mask, "But your regret is no reason for me not to order you before our military tribunal and sit back as they sentence you to death by firing squad this hour, and we both know that. You wouldn't have come crawling back to the military unless you had something to offer us we'd be willing to pardon you for gaining. What is it?"

"Information on Amestrian alchemical secrets far more valuable than those of Milos," Atlas replied, and Ashleigh repressed the urge to snort. He was used to the stupid perspective many alchemists held obtaining the Star was more worthwhile than obtaining the truth, but he'd never encountered the belief there was something more valuable than the Crimson Star that wasn't the truth. Atlas couldn't be referring to the Truth; the Doorway of Truth was an important part of Milosian alchemical mythology. However, nothing, save the Truth itself, could be more valuable than a catalyst that could open the Doorway of Truth without requiring a person to pay a toll. Atlas had become even more delusional.

But Ashleigh couldn't tell him so.

"These being?" Ashleigh questioned.

"Do you know anything about the Doorway of Truth?" Atlas asked back.

Or perhaps Ashleigh had been wrong. "Yes," Ashleigh responded. "I'm familiar with it and the role it plays in the alchemic mythology of Milos."

"Good," Atlas spoke. "That will make this easier for me to discuss, then.

"An Amestrian alchemist knows of the existence of a supreme Gateway of Truth." Ashleigh's eyes widened. "One that is different than the ordinary human Doorways." There were many Doorways of Truth that were part of every human, and the Doorway of Truth wasn't a separate individual thing? "When an alchemist opens a regular Doorway, threads of the Truth are scoured into his or her brain. But by opening this Gateway of Truth, an alchemist can contain, and thus learn right away, the entire repository of information behind it within himself or herself with a transmutation, a repository that holds all of the information there is about everything making up all the dimensions in existence."

Reality reeled and tilted and spun and tumbled end over end violently, Ashleigh was barely able to keep himself from staggering back as if struck, and his heart pounded so hard it should have broken out of his chest. He couldn't breathe. He could barely think. Atlas was an ambitious fool with delusions of grandeur, but he was too cunning to tell a lie like this. He wouldn't have told Ashleigh there was an omniscient Doorway of Truth unless Atlas had a valid reason to think it genuinely existed.

And that meant the unknown world that lay on the other side of the Doorway held boundlessly more promise than what Ashleigh had dreamed was the most remotely possible.

Ashleigh couldn't believe it. He knew the world within the Truth was paradise, but he never could have imagined the infinite Ein Sof, the unknowable God who existed at the top of the ladder to heaven outside of anything the human mind could comprehend, even in negatives by saying it couldn't be defined, was genuinely infinite. Heaven lay on the other side of the Doorway, and when Ashleigh opened it he would be able to remake the world as an everlasting utopia, but that heaven had limits, however superior it was to this wasteland of a planet. It wasn't a supernal heaven that just existed in religions where humans could live in infinite bliss.

Or so he'd thought.

Nor could he believe mastering the Truth was as comparably easy to how difficult he'd thought it would be as opening a single Gateway one time and taking its wellspring of knowledge into yourself. He'd believed he'd have to open the Doorway repeatedly and spend years studying and learning from the knowledge it engraved in his brain before he was able to master the Truth, not open a single ultimate Gateway once and learn all the Truth within it within minutes. That he could master the Truth that way should have been a delirious fever dream.

That the world on the other side of the Doorway of Truth was heaven in every way should have been a delirious fever dream too.

But now, though he couldn't believe it, though he was certain this was all a dream and he'd wake up and discover he was in bed and his mind had created yet another comforting illusion so he could find solace from the horror that was his life in sleep, he knew he was awake.

He knew he'd heard Atlas speak those words.

He was so relieved his knees almost buckled. Mastering the Truth meant there was literally no suffering he couldn't extinguish.

He took in deep breath after deep breath until reality stabilized, and then faced Atlas, who was looking at him curiously.

"Tell me everything," Ashleigh ordered Atlas.

.

Ashleigh stood before Atlas.

He didn't have any problems believing the rest of what Atlas had had to tell. Because an all-knowing Gateway of Truth was real, he could believe anything else, even that it led to the nervous system of the planet and its knowledge was sought by an immortal artificial human. Believing the Homunculus whose children called him Father had depopulated one country and was willing to wipe countless millions from another had been easy; he would have been surprised if he'd one day discovered irrefutable evidence no thinking life form was willing to go that far. He couldn't believe there were any depths to which sentience wasn't willing to sink.

That was one of the reasons he was willing to sink that low himself. You couldn't cleanse a world this filthy without wielding its filth against it.

It was a shame he was going to have to spare the valley, however. In countless ways it was the filthiest place of all. But he was the only officer in the Cretan military who knew how to force what was now Table City to fulfill the purpose for which it had been constructed, and if he deserted Creta wouldn't be willing to expend the resources to reclaim the holy land from Amestris when they couldn't transmute Stars in it. That meant, when he disappeared, the soldiers here would be ordered not to bury the valley.

There was no other road he could walk, however. He knew how to master the Truth now, so he had to set out to open the ultimate Gateway. Further, he had to set out before the Sun rose. It was going to be extremely difficult to outmaneuver puppetmasters who had been pulling strings wrapped around millions of people in an entire country for over three hundred fifty years in the time he had before the end of the solar eclipse, and he needed to get started right away.

There was one loose end he needed to tie up here first, though.

Atlas wanted God himself, and wanted to gain contacts in the Cretan army to aid him in doing it. That was obvious. There could be no other reason he'd turned himself in. So, even though slaying Atlas would make Ashleigh a fugitive, Ashleigh would have one less enemy to outwit if he killed Atlas now.

However, the more rivals the one called Father had for the planet's nervous system, the better. Letting Atlas live would cause Ashleigh trouble he could avoid in the long run, but it might also be beneficial.

That meant Ashleigh had to continue to play along with Atlas.

"I see no reason to reject your information as false," Ashleigh spoke. "I'm skeptical, but I have no evidence you're lying, so for now, I'll take your word for it this information is valid. Don't discuss this with anyone else. I'll write my superiors about what you've told me and recommend you be placed on parole until we're able to ascertain whether or not the nationwide underground Star in Amestris truly exists and vouches for your honesty."

Ashleigh had a partially different intention. He was going to write his superiors Atlas had pretended to desert the military in order to investigate rumors of the Amestrian nationwide Star because he'd felt no one would believe him if he warned them it existed, and he'd murdered the Crichtons and stolen their research to gain the means to defend himself in Amestris if anyone attempted to use the network against him. When Atlas heard that was what Ashleigh had written, Atlas would be aware 'Herschel' was more than he appeared to be, but Ashleigh could deal with that, and he needed to expose he had secrets to Atlas to prevent Creta from becoming aware of the omniscient Truth. It was too dangerous to allow anyone else to know about the planet's nervous system, and this deception would achieve that. Atlas would almost certainly pretend Ashleigh's story was true, as it stood just as good a chance of getting Atlas a pardon and saying Ashleigh's story was false would lessen Atlas' chances of being pardoned.

Ashleigh couldn't tell Atlas he was going to lie now, though. If Atlas became aware Herschel was more than he appeared to be before claiming Ashleigh's story was false would lessen Atlas' chances of a pardon, he'd probably give one of the soldiers feeding him that evidence Herschel wasn't who he appeared and bypass Herschel in search of a pardon, and Ashleigh didn't want them to know there was more to him than met the eye until he was miles from Creta.

"I will recommend, should the Star exist, you be pardoned." Atlas smiled in relief, and Ashleigh wanted to split his lips with a punch. "But don't be under any illusions; even should you be pardoned, we will still be watching you for a long time. No intelligent soldier or officer could trust a criminal like you without years' worth of proof you've changed."

Atlas hung his head as low as he could with it collared in a fake show of remorse. "That's fine with me," he said. "I deserve no less. They'll see me providing exemplary service to my nation from now on, but I know no matter how well I serve my nation, it will never return the Crichtons to life."

Ashleigh suppressed the urge to grind his teeth so hard they should chip at Atlas' mention of his parents' names.

Thankfully, here he could afford to show outrage.

"Indeed," Ashleigh replied angrily. "No matter how well we serve the living, we can never recover the dead. There are wrongs we commit that can never be atoned for or forgiven. No matter how you act from now on, you will always be a repulsive stain on the effulgence of the Cretan uniform. You'd do well to remember that for the rest of your service, should you be allowed to serve again, and your life."

Atlas sighed heavily. "I will.

"The Crichton boy whose face I peeled off," he questioned, a tired hope in his voice that was almost too much for Ashleigh to be willing to tolerate, "Do you know if he survived, or was he a victim of my sins as well?"

Ashleigh wanted to grate out he was so horrific a victim Atlas would never be able to fathom it, but Ashleigh couldn't. He'd had enough of this now, however.

"I have no idea," Ashleigh responded, and Atlas grimaced.

Then he turned and walked with correct Cretan military professionalism to the exit of the cell and opened it. But he closed the cell door with slightly more force than necessary and, once Atlas was out of sight, locked it violently.

"Is something wrong, sir?" the Cretan soldier standing guard to the right of the cell, in a darker brown uniform and military cap than Ashleigh's own were colored, asked.

"Nothing you need to know about," Ashleigh responded. "I'm retiring to my quarters to write a letter I'll leave to be carried to the postal station before morning, and then I am not to be disturbed until zero eleven hundred hours."

"Sir!" The soldier saluted him.

Ashleigh saluted him back, and then turned and took his first steps toward hopefully accomplishing his dream of creating a new world.

.

Ed walked at Al's side back onto the grounds in front of the train station, the station restored to its fully functional condition behind them.

"I think we should start solving the riddle by getting a sense of the city as a whole," Ed said.

"Table City as a whole?" Alphonse questioned. "Why?"

"Something's been bothering me about it," Ed replied.

.

Edward and Alphonse stood outside the wall surrounding Table City's lowest level.

Ed didn't have any proof, but he was mostly sure he was right. Ed pointed out at the city in the direction of one of the tall towers rising from its multiple levels.

"Okay," he spoke up. "Do you remember the diagram in the Milosian base?"

"Yes," Alphonse responded. "Why?"

"Do you remember all the towers standing above Table City in the diagram?" Edward gestured to his brother, and led him into the city, up onto a narrow curving walkway made out of pipes, and to a curving area where they had a better view of one of the towers.

"I remember them, too," Al replied once they'd stopped.

"Do you think it's a little strange, too?" Ed asked.

"I'm not following," Alphonse responded.

"If it's supposed to be a map of the valley they were digging in, why would they include the towers at all?" Ed asked. He resumed walking, and directed Al to and onto a level walkway of concrete with railings that curved and turned in the direction of other towers.

This time, Al didn't wait until they'd stopped. After they'd traveled for a long time on the walkway he replied, "Maybe it is. I think that's a little strange, too."

"What I think is even more strange," Ed said, "There weren't any other buildings on the diagram. Just the towers."

He spoke nothing more until they were on a stone walkway passing in front of a place with a large golden structure shaped like around half of a ring resting three areas of stone higher than the one they were traveling on, behind multiple railings. "If it's true the Milosians who created that diagram were following instructions of a sort to find the Philosopher's Stone, then…" He trailed off, knowing Al was partially aware what Ed was thinking.

Al didn't speak anything until they were standing at the edge of a platform further west, though. "You're saying you think they built their towers for a reason Creta didn't know about when it founded Table City and built the towers that currently exist, and the present-day towers are connected to the Philosopher's Stone."

Ed took a book out of one of his pockets and opened it to two pages, each with a drawing he'd made last night. He was even more sure he was right now that they'd traveled through Table City and gotten a closer view at multiple towers. "Yes. I'm also saying I think the Cretans might have solved the mystery of the towers to an extent, and wanted something to sacrifice.

He pointed at the drawing on the left page with his dangling right hand. "These are the locations of the towers as the diagram in the base shows them." Then he pointed at the drawing on the right page. "And these are the actual locations of the towers. Look at this." He brought his right hand across a row of filled-in circles in the middle of the drawing on the right page, talking as he did. "South of the axis line of these towers."

"One of the towers is missing," Al spoke.

"A tower used to be there," Edward said, "And it's been destroyed."

"You think that's why the tower is missing?" Alphonse questioned.

"Yeah," Ed responded. "I think Creta sacrificed the tower, to divert power and try to concentrate energy at the point where the tower in the south is. I think the towers are likely points on a citywide transmutation circle for transmuting the Stone." He grimaced. The concepts of people creating a transmutation circle out of a city and being willing to sacrifice others on a citywide scale was nowhere near as bad as the concepts of people creating a transmutation circle out of a country and being willing to sacrifice all the people within a nation, but they were still revolting.

He touched the bottommost filled-in circle on the left page with his right hand. He wished they could destroy the possible circle by wrecking one of the towers, but they couldn't damage public property, even more so when he had no proof they were points on a circle. "We need to pay this location a visit."

.

It was getting on in the afternoon when they arrived at the grounds in front of a familiar tower emerging from a church and surrounded by four golden constructs with bells, one of them broken and leaning to the side.

"I don't know whether to call it sad or appropriate this is the place," Alphonse remarked. "Or both."

Ed didn't respond. He headed for the double doors into the church, Al at his side. It was long past time for lunch, but they could stop to eat when they knew why Creta had sacrificed the tower here.

They opened the doors and walked down the aisle between the pews in the nave, and Edward examined the floor, the curved ceiling, the wall they'd entered through, the walls to the side, the mostly rounded wall in the back, and the pews, but he saw nothing unusual. They reached the altar, but he could see nothing unusual about it too.

"The church itself appears ordinary," Ed spoke.

Al was still looking around, and he must have seen something, for he turned to his left and pointed in that direction up at the purple tapestry with a gold design on it hanging from a pole attached to the left wall, relative to the direction Edward was looking in, closest to the mostly rounded back wall. "Brother!"

It was waving.

"There's a breeze," Edward knew.

He walked over to the flat section of the back wall between the corner and the rounded portion to its right, relative to the direction Ed was facing, and looked at it closely. The outline of a door could be seen in that area of the wall. He clapped his left hand to his dangling right hand, and then turned his right hand forward by moving his right shoulder back and pressed his left hand and body against the wall so both hands were touching it. Blue currents crackled, and the door swung open.

Edward walked through the door onto a curving stone platform that ran along the walls of a chamber open to the sky and surrounding the tower rising out of the church. The tower extended down into the darkness, also surrounded by a narrow downward sloping walkway constructed of pipes that spiraled along the walls of the chamber below the stone platform and ran down into the darkness itself.

Ed halted, as did Al, and they looked up at the tower. "So this is it," Edward commented.

"There was no Cretan tower built here," Al said. "The Cretans were attempting to concentrate energy at this place, and wanted to do so with less work, so they didn't take the effort of constructing a tower of their own, and built the church to hide and encircle the Milosian-era tower."

"Indeed," Ed responded. "That makes this the gateway to the other world."

They jumped down from the stone platform to the walkway of pipes and followed it down, and after a period of time it opened into a vast underground chamber held up by massive columns that had to be around the size of Table City. Within it rested another city with buildings constructed in an older style of architecture, built on a single level and with rising and falling curving pipe walkways of its own rising out of it, extending over it, and running up the sides of other Milosian-era towers stretching up out of the city that no doubt ascended into the Cretan Table City towers. The chamber was lit by light spilling through the holes the towers rose out of and other, differently shaped openings in the ceiling.

Despite everything going on and what he'd learned, Edward found himself awed. This city was probably part of the transmutation circle, but it itself wasn't the transmutation circle. So the scale of the chamber and the scale of the effort he knew must have gone into building it over this city wasn't just revolting; it was extremely impressive when he didn't think there was much left that could impress him.

He wasn't truly surprised this was the answer to why Creta and the Milosians had never found a Stone in the valley, however. Genuine surprise at discoveries things like this was a thing of the past.

He was relieved, though, even though it was almost certain now people had been sacrificed throughout a city here in the past. For the existence of this city almost certainly meant just one Philosopher's Stone existed within what used to be Milos.

He led Alphonse well into the city, and then knelt at the edge of the pipe walkway to his right to get a better look at the city. Al did the same.

"We've peeled open a new layer to this onion," Edward spoke.

"Indeed," Alphonse responded, and he barely sounded surprised himself. "This must be a Milosian town. But why is it underground beneath Table City?"

"Creta did this," Ed spoke back. "The Milosians must have transmuted what they call the Crimson Star here before Creta's invasion. When Creta discovered this, they took over the Hill of Milos and built Table City to cover up this one."

"They didn't want anyone else to know about the secret of the Stone," Alphonse voiced what Ed was thinking.

"However," Edward took up speaking their thoughts, "Before Creta could solve the riddle of how the Stars were transmuted, this area was taken from them by Amestris, that wanted to expand its territory. I extremely highly doubt Amestris knew what had once been Milos possessed a Stone at the beginning, or they would have put the Milosians to work excavating the valley themselves.

"But the government of Table City must have learned of this place by now." He experienced a surge of terror. Did that mean the Homunculi knew, and Soyuz was working for them? He doubted it. If the Major was, he would have dismissed his soldiers, talked to Edward privately, and ordered Ed to stay out of the valley. "It's now a question whether any of them solved the riddle."

.

Edward saw the church, with a wide unopened double doorway barred at two heights behind a curved porch in its front, and broke into a run towards its front, Alphonse behind him. Ed stopped closer to it, Al doing the same.

This was what Ed had been looking for in the underground city near the south tower. When he'd seen this city, he'd become aware the Cretans had probably built a church in Table City to hide the Milosian tower and diverted energy to that tower because there was a church near the south tower in this city where the unsolved answers to the mystery of the Stone existed. The Sunlight shining through the openings in the ceiling of the chamber had turned into Moonlight and starlight by now, but they were at it.

"This may be a good sign," Ed said, referring to the closed and locked doors. "From the looks of it, the government of Table City hasn't solved the mystery themselves. And that it looks that way probably means they haven't, because if they had, this church would probably be open."

He walked up the steps to the curved porch with Alphonse behind him, clapped his hands, and touched the doorway, reconstructing hands out of it in blue light that lifted the bars out of the way. He pushed the door on his right open, and saw the candlelit wide nave beyond led to a staircase descending into darkness.

He gestured to Al to go in, entered the hallway after Alphonse, and retrieved two of the candles, handing one to Alphonse. Multiple seconds later they were past the aisle between the pews and descending the staircase.

"The church up above is nothing but a dummy built to conceal the tower and the entrance to the underground city," Ed aired what they were both thinking. "This one, I think, is a different story. I think we're about to discover the secret of the holy land."

At the bottom of the staircase was another pair of double doors, and Edward opened the one on the left, looking into a red-carpeted octagonal room beyond with numerous gold filled-in circles on it, more double doors on the opposite wall, and the lights of the night spilling through where the top of the ceiling should have been. Eight narrow openings in the floor ran from the eight corners of the room to meet in the center of a golden circular diagram, but the diagram didn't look like a transmutation circle.

Ed walked into the room in the direction of the doors and looked around, but it was empty.

He blinked. "What in the world? There isn't anything here." He shook his head at himself, slightly irritated he'd made the mistake of bringing them all this way just for them to find out he'd been wrong.

He looked at his brother. "I didn't know for certain, but I thought I was onto something. Sorry, Al."

"You might have been," Alphonse replied reassuringly. "This chamber looks like it was constructed for a special reason. Furthermore, we haven't seen this whole place. Maybe there's something beyond this room."

That was true. "I hope so." Edward seized the handle to the left door and pushed it open, looking back at the room they were in as he did to see if he'd missed something.

"Brother!" Al cried. "There's something in here!"

Ed turned and looked into the other room to see a rectangular construct colored primarily gray on the side he could see and the top resting in the room down a step, with red areas near the short sides and two rows of small circular golden protrusions along the front side.

"Maybe this is the special reason," Edward spoke. He walked up to the construct.

Alphonse came with him, opening the other door as he did. "It looks like a tomb," he remarked as they reached it.

"Let's open it." Ed put his candle down at the nearest corner of the floor extending forwards to a protruding area of the step, and Alphonse put his candle down on the opposite corner. They took positions on the two short sides of the construct. Numerous sections protruded from the side Edward walked to a pattern, and the side possessed more gold and was shaded purple, green, and orange in addition to red. He stuck his left hand in the left of two hand slots, and saw Al had already done the same with his hands. "Ready, set…"

Ed strained to lift the top of the construct with one hand, but he was able to, and an empty purple inside was revealed when they moved it up off the bottom of the construct.

The old, rash Edward who hadn't learned to use his brain more would have cursed and put his side of the top back down, but the Ed who had learned to think stiffened. "Al, throw the top on the floor and hit the walls beside the door!" he cried.

Alphonse did as his older brother had shouted and they turned to run to the walls, but Ed came to a halt when he saw people had followed them to this trap.

Major Soyuz was standing amidst a group of four Amestrian soldiers, their rifles out. Ed threw himself to the side, clapped, and brought his left hand and body to the floor, sending the other sides of the walls of the room to the sides of the doorway extending out and swinging inwards in the direction of the Amestrian soldiers, hurling all of them but Soyuz into the extensions across from the ones that hit them. Alphonse raced out of the room and slugged each one in the head, knocking them unconscious.

Soyuz' jaw was hanging, and then he clenched his teeth and snarled.

"So walking all over the Milosians isn't enough for you," Edward snarled at him as he got up. "You're after the Philosopher's Stone yourself."

"What of it?" Soyuz rejoined. "I'm the governor of Table City. The treasures of the holy land belong to me." He drew himself up. "Stand down, now. We share the same rank, but I'm a government official and you're a mere State Alchemist, and you have no proof I intended you harm. I can arrest you with ease."

Ed laughed once, harshly. "You stranded me in the valley. I can combine that with the presence of Amestrian soldiers with armed rifles to build a case. And considering State Alchemists are more valuable to High Command than the governor of a border town, we both know you'll be the one sentenced. If I were you, I'd get down on my hands and knees and grovel before me in the hopes I'll show you mercy."

The Major ground his teeth. "You're an impudent whelp, you know that?"

Edward shrugged. "I've been called worse. Now talk, and maybe I'll use my influence to try to persuade a military tribunal to make your sentence a little lighter. Were you the one who had this trap built?"

Soyuz snarled, but replied. "Yes. I sought to catch alchemists seeking to unravel the mystery of the Stone with that coffin, and force them to do so for my sake, or tell me what they'd learned if they'd already unraveled the mystery." He sneered. "You disappoint me, Fullmetal Alchemist. Given your reputation, I'd believed you would be able to solve the mystery of this room, but I appear to have overestimated your intelligence. There's probably nothing for it. Once I get away from you, I'll have to rely on one of those Milosian mosquitoes to do it."

Ed snorted. "Deflate your head, you bastard. You'll never get away from me and you know it. In addition, even if you could, a murderer like you could never use the Philosopher's Stone."

"That's no issue," the Major responded. "The world is filled with people who would do anything to get their hands on a Philosopher's Stone. I'll enlist the aid of an alchemist and sell him or her the privilege of transmuting with the Stone for any price I think suitable."

Ed laughed harshly. "You still believe you have a chance of walking free. Get a clue.

"Answer me this." As Al had said, the outside room looked like it had been constructed for a special reason, but since there was nothing else unusual about this church, the Cretans probably hadn't tried to gather energy in the south because that tower was unique. They'd probably chosen this point at random. Yet the octagonal chamber had to be related to the southern Milosian tower in a way. It couldn't be coincidence it existed in the vicinity of the tower. That meant there might be other chambers in the vicinity of the other towers. "Are there a lot of other underground chambers like the one you're standing in throughout this buried city?"

"Yes," Soyuz responded. "Why?"

"I'll let you worry about that," Edward spoke. "Would you tell me about them?"

"They're all as empty as the one I'm standing in," the Major revealed. "Furthermore, they all open into rooms like the one you're in. But those rooms are empty of everything save speaking tubes like the three behind you." Ed glanced back to see three golden speaking pipes ascending up out of the room along the back wall. "I didn't order coffins constructed in any of the others."

Edward blinked. "Then what purpose did you have the speaking tubes built for?"

Soyuz snarled. "I didn't have them built! They were already there when I discovered the chambers! I don't know what they're for, so don't ask me! I assume Creta built them as a means of communicating between Table City and this ghost city!"

That didn't make sense. Why would Creta expend the resources to build speaking tubes into rooms they had no reason to take residence in? They'd probably spent a lot of time combing these rooms to try to unlock their secrets, but that was no reason to go to the trouble of extending speaking tubes all the way from Table City down here.

Then Ed knew.

"That's answer enough," he said, and ran at the Major, swinging his left fist at the side of Soyuz' head. His eyes rolled up and he fell to the floor, unconscious, and Edward clapped his hands, lowered his left hand and body to the floor, and transmuted stone arches over him in blue energies, pinning him to the floor.

"The towers themselves aren't the points of the citywide circle," Al spoke as Edward arose, obviously as aware as Ed was of this part of the answer to the riddle. "They're meant to guard the special rooms. The chambers are the points, or at the least, those openings in the floors mean they open up into the points below. And the speaking tubes hold the lines connecting the points of the circle. They're not the lines themselves; if they were, there'd be no need to use tubes. They're meant to hold human blood as the lines of the circle; this transmutation circle must not be powered by shedding blood at its points, but by sending blood everywhere the circle is.

"A three-dimensional transmutation circle. Another thing we didn't know was possible.

"But that doesn't tell us where in the circle the Stone was transmuted, and because the circle is built of blood in pipes, we're going to have a much harder time doing that than we thought. It could be literally anywhere in Table City or this city, or in the surface between the two. So we'll need to see all the pipes to know the complete equation of the circle to find the Stone, and that's going to be almost as difficult."

"That means we don't need to," Edward replied, and walked over to one of the speaking tubes. A clap of his hands, a press of his body and left hand, and currents of blue energies, and the lower portions of the three pipes had been twisted into the shape of one giant knot with many turns not just through the knot, but into themselves and out other portions or sides of themselves or one of the other tubes. "If we can't find it without seeing the equation, even if the Milosians now have a better chance of locating it than previous generations had, they aren't going to get any meaningful distance without seeing the equation themselves. All we need to do is drastically alter or get rid of a large number of portions of the speaking tubes, enough so it'll be mostly certain no one will be able to discover how to fill in the pieces of the equation we've removed and learn it, and the Stone should remain hidden long enough for us to launch the coup. No Milosian will be able to transmute a new Stone as well."

"I'm not certain about that," Alphonse responded. "Don't forget Julia. Atlas said he wants her to attain the Star. She might have learned something critical about it from her parents when she was a child, something Atlas knows is critical and she doesn't, and she might become aware what it is."

"You have a point."

But now that he knew how difficult it was to locate the Stone when you were unfamiliar with the circle for transmuting it, the reason Atlas had waited in an Amestrian prison for so long appeared before him as clear as day.

"Actually," he amended, "I wouldn't worry about that. That's not why Atlas wants Julia."

"What does he want her for, then?" Alphonse questioned.

"Julia's parents must have inscribed two portions of a map that shows the Stone's location on Ashleigh and Julia," Edward replied, and Al gasped. "There's no other reason for Atlas to have stayed in prison for so long when he could have escaped any time. He must have peeled Ashleigh's part of the map off him before Atlas killed him around four-and-a-half years ago, but Julia was too young then for her part of the map to properly fit together with Ashleigh's. Atlas needed to wait until she grew big enough the two parts would correctly combine."

"And he couldn't know what the proper size of her map was when she was that little," Al aired Edward's thoughts, "So he couldn't have created a larger copy himself.

"That makes sense. Further, if Atlas goes after Julia again when his wounds heal, the Milosians will be ready for him, so he won't be locating the Stone. All right then. Let's get to work ruining the circle."

And then they'd return to Central.

To his surprise, Edward found he was disappointed. This had been another wild goose chase, but he still didn't want this journey to be over. He'd been brought face to face with more of the sadism of reality, but in its own way, this journey had also been a relief from their struggle against the one called Father, the Fϋhrer, and the nationwide transmutation circle. The end of this journey would again mean a return to that beyond nightmare.

But he needed to stop being upset every time he had to return to it. His responsibilities weren't going to go away until they defeated the one called Father and his servants and allies, or Ed died in the attempt.

"Let's," Ed said.

.

A knock on the door to his hotel room in West City woke Kimblee from his sleep, but he'd trained himself to sleep lightly long ago, and was fully alert as soon as he woke up. He got out of bed, aware from how long he'd slept it was in the latter hours of the night, walked to the door, and opened it.

A male soldier saluted. "We've confirmed the fugitive is in West City," he informed Kimblee. "As well as his location. He's hiding out in an abandoned clothes store two streets back from the road running along the eastern side of the Ocilla River. Shall I radio the soldiers surrounding it to move in and arrest him, or wait for you to arrive on the scene?"

"Order them to keep the perimeter secured," Kimblee responded. "I'm going in alone. No one is to follow me in to engage the target under any circumstances."

Kimblee smiled. Finally. He could enjoy using his talents to the best of his ability again. As added bonuses, he'd be able to engage in conflict against someone with beliefs as strong as his, even though he was a hypocrite; purge this planet of another hypocrite who was preventing people who sought to be true to themselves from freely using their talents; and he'd be confronting someone who had had the most intriguing misconception of the Crimson Alchemist's personality he'd encountered in his life.

His wait was over. He shivered in anticipation of the beautiful orchestra he'd be conducting before the morning was done.

.

Edward, standing in the street of the underground metropolis, touched his hands to the tube, blue light crackled, and parts of the tube thinned into a wire with no space inside it, then the altered area of the tube wrapped around itself.

He sighed.

They were done.

The citywide transmutation circle had been fouled up so badly it was likely no Milosian would be able to learn its equation. Finding tubes running throughout the underground city had taken little effort; they could be seen curving or descending in plain sight over the Milosian city. It had taken them a long time to travel among them, but it hadn't been any trouble to locate them, and reconstructing them and wrecking them had been basic alchemy. The circle was damaged so badly it was mostly certain no one would be transmuting a new Stone or finding the existing one.

"We did it," Alphonse sounded as if he couldn't fully believe it.

Ed knew the feeling. After they'd failed and murdered Nina and gotten Winry taken prisoner, it was difficult to believe they'd actually succeeded at something again, even saving people from being harmed or killed by a smaller danger unrelated to the threat to Amestris, something they'd accomplished too many times in the past to count.

The days he'd believed he could tackle anything felt like they'd happened a lifetime ago.

But this was real. They'd done it. It didn't enable him to regain any of his lost confidence, not when Winry might have been tortured or might have lost her human body, or would be, but they'd done it.

"We sure did." Edward did smile a fake smile now. After having succeeded at anything after they'd failed so terribly and made such catastrophic mistakes, any success made there be a point to smiling.

"And we wrapped this up without needing to mop up another typical mess. Let's retrieve Soyuz, say farewell to Julia, and get out of here."

.

Ed swore.

Major Soyuz, and the other four soldiers Edward had bound to the church floor, were gone.

One or more other soldiers must have traveled down here when he hadn't reported in or returned and freed him.

"Great," Edward spoke. "He's probably alerted the Table City military and military police about us by now. Capturing him again is going to be a pain, assuming he doesn't flee the city before we reach him."

"We wrapped this up without dealing with another typical mess, huh?" Alphonse asked.

Ed sighed in frustration, exhaustion, and irritation. "I know."

.

Edward started when they emerged from the Table City church in the early morning light to see Colonel Mustang, Lieutenant Hawkeye, Lieutenant Colonel Archer, and a squad of soldiers walking up to the church doors.

The Colonel stopped and smirked, and the other soldiers came to a halt. "So you decided to return to the scene of the crime. Feeling guilty about causing an international incident, Fullmetal?"

Ed sighed. It was good Mustang was here – that meant it would be much easier to remove Soyuz from power – but they didn't have time for this. "What are you talking about this time?"

"Let's see," Mustang spoke. "The train wreck. Letting an illegal immigrant escape Amestrian custody, one who just so happens to be a criminal wanted by Creta too." Edward blinked. He knew Creta had reasons to consider Julia a criminal, but why did they want her specifically? Did they know about her map? "Letting your brother cross the border into Creta illegally. Letting the escaped fugitive flee into Creta. Crossing the border into Creta illegally yourself. Doing whatever you did to get so much on the bad side of the military here they wouldn't answer my questions about whether they knew of your current whereabouts, forcing me to investigate myself. I'm sure you had your reasons, and that the military here has been toeing the line of insubordination with me implies I can't trust them, but it's clear you're still very far away from learning the meaning of the words 'careful' and 'inconspicuous.' You've made another fine mess, and caused an international incident by letting Miss Crichton leave Table City."

Edward suppressed the urge to wince. Mustang was right. He wasn't learning anywhere near as well as he'd thought he was. But that wasn't important now.

"That doesn't matter," Edward replied. "Creta has no say in what goes on here, and neither does Amestris. This area belongs to Julia's people, the Milosians, and Amestris and Creta have been oppressing them as horribly as Amestris oppressed Ishval."

Numerous things passed over the Flame Alchemist's face, but then his expression regained military professionalism. "Do you have proof of this?"

"The proof is all over the floor of the valley," Ed responded. "It's covered by garbage from Table City, and the Milosians live in a shantytown. I can take you down there and show you once we've arrested Soyuz." Mustang's eyebrow rose. "But we need to do that first. He attempted to take me prisoner to try to force me to work for him, or dispose of me, and I caught him when he made the attempt. If we don't arrest him before too much more time has passed, he may get away, if it's not already too late."

"I cannot arrest another military officer without proof of misconduct," the Colonel said. "Regardless of how serious your charges are against him. You know that. Did his soldiers aim their rifles at you?"

"No," Ed replied, "But he stranded me in Cretan territory when I crossed the border."

Mustang smiled faintly. "That will do." He turned to face Hawkeye, Archer, and the other soldiers. "You heard him!" he cried. "We're off to the command tower at the center of Table City to arrest Major Soyuz on charges of corruption! Move out!"

.

"We have a new problem, sir," a soldier told Peter when he picked up the ringing phone, seated at his desk in his office attached to Table City's central tower, other soldiers and the blonde-haired, Sunglasses wearing Sergeant Fiss Sizzler moving around the office packing up his most important files and belongings in boxes.

Peter snarled. This was insane! He was the officer in charge of a city that oversaw a culture reaching back approximately three thousand years into the mists of time, that protected the border from an enemy nation, and that hid the ultimate alchemical treasure. His career shouldn't be falling apart, it should have long since grown wings and carried him to a perch in High Command, and now that it had fallen apart, nothing else should have gone wrong. "Now what!?" he yelled.

"Colonel Mustang has met up with the Fullmetal Alchemist," all the blood drained from Peter's face, "And he's on his way in your direction."

Peter ground his teeth. Then there was nothing for it. He wasn't going to be able to salvage his career by fleeing Table City and laying low until this blew over. He had to focus on ensuring he wasn't imprisoned now.

"Do nothing to interfere or give him any more reason to be cautious than he already has," Peter ordered. "I'll deal with him."

He slammed the phone onto its receiver and turned to Sergeant Sizzler, who was holding a box and looking at Peter. "There's been a change of plans. Colonel Mustang is on his way."

Sizzler paled. "What do you want me to do, sir?"

"It's time for you to give your life for the glory of Amestris."

.

Walking up one of the staircases ascending Table City's central tower, Roy frowned when he saw a single soldier with short blonde hair and Sunglasses waiting for him at the entrance to the Major's glass-walled office, and no one else inside. No Table City soldier or Table City military police officer had defied Roy's orders to stay out of his way and tried to stop them from reaching Soyuz, but the Major must have been told the Flame Alchemist was on his way with Fullmetal a long time ago, and there was no way Soyuz didn't know why. That no one had attempted to stop them hadn't implied Soyuz was setting a trap, as Roy did outrank the Major, but the presence of the single soldier made it much more possible. If the soldiers in the office meant no harm to Roy because he outranked Soyuz, he might be able to see others.

What was the trap, then, if there was one? Were soldiers in the office waiting in ambush past where it turned out of sight around the tower? Had everyone else evacuated the office save the blonde-haired soldier, leaving him behind to try to trick them into lowering their guards so a bomb inside the office could kill them along with the blonde-haired soldier?

Roy sighed. If this was a trap, there was probably no way to figure out what it was without triggering it. They'd have to spring it.

Lieutenant Hawkeye walked in front of him, aiming her gun at the blonde-haired soldier, and he gestured for everyone else to stay back. Then he approached the glass door to the office, positioning his fingers to snap them.

The blonde-haired soldier opened the door to the office, put his hands in the air where they could see them, and walked out, descending the staircase in their direction.

"Don't move," Hawkeye commanded him, keeping her gun trained on him. The soldier halted. "We're here to arrest Major Peter Soyuz on charges of abuses of power, dereliction of duty, and attempted assault on a fellow officer. Where can we find him?"

"You don't have the authority to compel me to tell you, Lieutenant," the soldier replied.

"I do," the Flame Alchemist interjected. "I'm giving you a direct order. Where is Major Soyuz?"

The soldier clenched his teeth. "He headed for the top of the central tower with three other soldiers. There's a speaking tube there he's using to listen for when we're on this conversation," the soldier turned his head in the direction of the door. The Lieutenant's finger shifted, but she didn't fire. A golden tube climbed up near the wall of the tower to the left of the door relative to the direction Roy was facing in, "And they're going to climb and slide down the other side of the tower now that we are."

"I assume you're supposed to keep us occupied while they do," the Flame Alchemist said dryly. "Go on, then. Spring your trap, if you're willing to give your life. But I hope you don't believe you'll get a military funeral."

"Of course I don't."

Then the soldier threw himself forwards down the stairs in their direction, and Roy's eyes widened as he realized what the trap was.

The next thing Roy knew, fire came detonating out of the sole of the soldier's left boot as he pressed the switch on a bomb concealed inside the sole with the bottom of his foot and Hawkeye was hurling herself into him, knocking him backwards down the staircase and shielding him with her body, and fire and roaring drowned out all the world. Roy found himself thrown further backwards in mid-flight and then one of the stairs rose up to strike the back of his head and blackness erupted over his vision and then scorching heat washed over him. For a number of seconds there was nothing but the roar of the bomb's explosion and black spots in his vision and fire passing over him and heat he was as familiar with as the shape of his toes.

Then the roar died, although it echoes bounced down the staircase and over the surface of the tower and the other surfaces around them.

Roy groaned and carefully shifted his head, then brought his left ungloved hand to the back of his head and touched it with his fingers. It came away warm and sticky.

Wonderful. And, knowing his luck, he had a concussion too.

But he'd survived the trap. That was the important thing.

He pushed himself carefully up with his elbows, looking up. "Thanks as usual for the save, Lie–"

Everything vanished save the sight in front of him. Reality, time, the sticky warmth on his fingers, the fading echoes of the bomb's roar, the staircase below him and the office ahead and the tower to his left and his awareness he existed itself. Nothing existed but what he could see in front of him up the mangled, broken staircase, and on his chest, and memories of Ishval so unreal he wasn't sure he wasn't imagining them.

After Ishval, he'd thought he'd witnessed such unimaginable nightmares no sight, no matter how horrible, could truly traumatize him again. Not after he'd seen the blackened corpses of countless Ishvalan soldiers lying in pools of blood with sightless eyes gazing at nothing and their burnt skin peeling off or strewn in roasted pieces by the remains of their bodies. Not after he'd seen babies and children and the elderly lying broken and bleeding with their shattered bones sticking up through their flesh, bloody bullet holes in their heads or chests, and one or more limbs missing and lying twisted nearby.

But nothing he'd seen in Ishval could even begin to brush the surface of the tapestry in front of him with the barest and most feather light touch. It couldn't even descend to an infinite distance from that surface.

Riza Hawkeye's charred corpse lay in pieces of blackened and bloody limbs and feet and hands and fingers and portions of her torso on the mangled ruins of the staircase in front of him, her separated head, most of it behind her face a ruin of burnt skull and bone chips and brain matter and blood, resting on his chest, eyes forever frozen as they looked sightlessly at him.

.

"You could not even protect the most important person in your life, Elly."-Hyuga "Citan Uzuki" Ricdaeu

XENOGEARS