Chapter XI: The Elements
On Friday, April fourteenth, in the afternoon, Ed, Winry and Al returned from Xing, perfectly safe, and all with a noticeable tan. After unpacking and finding places for their wedding gifts in their very own new house, Ed and Winry began preparing a separate room for a permanent visitor.
Winry giggled, elated, and called for Ed to help her in setting up a small crib. "Thank goodness May was there." She said to her husband. "I would have never figured out why I was getting weird cravings in the middle of the night."
"Eh, yeah sure. But alkahestry's always been used for medicinal purposes, and May has so many nieces and nephews, I'm surprised she didn't notice it right away." Ed scoffed.
"You're just jealous you didn't see it first." Winry slapped him on the arm playfully.
"Because I don't specialize in biological alchemy, Win. We've gone through this already." Ed turned away from his wife, tying his long hair up in a ponytail. "So when are we gonna break the news to everyone?" He asked, changing the subject.
"Besides the people Al already bragged to?" Winry asked, a sparkle in her eyes as she remembered Al stepping off the train at the Resembool station shouting, "I'm gonna be an uncle!"
"Yeah, besides them." Ed grinned, hugging his wife from behind and patting her still-flat stomach.
"Well, I've already told Gracia." Winry said a little guiltily. "But she wanted to be the first to know!"
Ed looked playfully offended. "I thought you said we shouldn't tell anyone until we got back from Xing!"
"Er, well, I kind of got excited." Winry said quickly. "And you were talking to that guy on the train for such a long time I got so bored! Gracia promised she wouldn't tell anyone else." She pleaded.
Ed sighed, but smiled down at her. "It's fine, Win. If Gracia knows, then the whole world might as well know already then." He said jokingly. "I just don't know how I'm gonna break the news to Mustang. If he hasn't heard already. He's gonna flip." Ed looked rather pleased with himself.
"Well, why don't you give him a call and tell him? Or even better, why don't you go and visit him in East City? I'm sure he wants to see you're still in one piece." Winry shoved him off of her and walked out of the baby's room. "I need to check up with Mr. Garfiel in Rush Valley. See if my parts came in while we were gone." She called from the kitchen.
"Gearhead." Ed muttered, taking one last glance around the finished room.
"What was that?" Winry called.
"Nothing, nothing."
Havoc clicked his tongue in frustration. They had all just gotten off of work for the day, and were back in Riza's apartment, still trying to figure out the code.
"I don't understand." He grunted to his wife. "The two circle-y looking thing? It's not anywhere in any of the books we have, and none of the linguists we checked with knew either." He brushed his sandy hair out of his face.
"I asked Dr. Marcoh about it, and he didn't know as well, but he said he'd look through some of his old alchemy books just in case. He went back to Ishval a few days after the wedding." Riza responded, not looking up from the paper she was studying.
Miraculously, they had managed to find a few useful meanings of a single, upright trigon in some of Roy's other textbooks, and had narrowed it down to one representation they thought was the most correct and likely to be used. Riza had felt stupid when Breda approached her with a book opened to a page on the four classical elements. The four elements each had triangular symbols in alchemy: Air was depicted by an upright trigon with a horizontal line through the middle; Earth, an upside-down trigon with a horizontal line through the middle; Water, an unadorned upside-down trigon; and Fire, by a plain, upright trigon.
When she'd seen it, her eyes widened and she gasped. "The glove!" She'd exclaimed, and had rushed into her room, returning with one of Roy's unused alchemy gloves. There, on the back of the hand, two large triangles pointed inward at each other, one upside-down and one upright. The upright trigon had a smaller, but geometrically similar trigon inscribed in it, unadorned and equilateral. She'd seen the design so many times, had committed it to sight memory, but never really looked at the details. How could I have missed that?
All of them had then agreed unanimously that the triangle in the coded message might mean fire or flame, but had been disheartened once again when they realized it wasn't really that helpful. Of course this was about flame alchemy. The General was the Flame Alchemist.
That had been the only good news that week. As Riza had sourly predicted, General Ranford had called off the search for Roy and had declared him Missing-In-Action, firmly saying they had nothing to go off of except the coded messages (he had found out Riza had taken the shirts on which they had been written and ordered her to hand them over to Investigations for "further inquiry") and that the General would soon be given a military service even with the absence of a body. The funeral had been scheduled in two weeks. Though it was clearly still too early for such an affirmation of the General's death, there was nothing Riza and her friends could do about it.
Fuhrer Grumman had been notified of Ranford's decision and had no choice but to let the situation be, as the upper brass had voted on the matter and come to the same conclusion as Ranford. Parliament had yet to vote on it, but the Fuhrer had grimly informed his granddaughter that the outcome would most likely be the same and that a new General would take Mustang's place within the next month.
"I can't do anything about the decision, Riza. I am sorry. The rank of Fuhrer doesn't have as much power as it used to." He had told her afterward. Without the military's help in finding Roy, Riza and her friends were truly on their own in their fruitless endeavors.
It was stressful to say the least. Fortunately, they still managed to gather small pieces of information via other means: Sheska in the Records Department in Central City, Lieutenant Colonel Alex Armstrong at Central Headquarters, and Dr. Tim Marcoh in Ishval. Their other friends in the military were kept informed of the team's progress as well, but with the official declaration of the Flame Alchemist's untimely death, it was hard to stay optimistic.
Riza continued to silently agonize over Roy's absence. Her stoic attitude the past two weeks earned her approving recognition from Ranford, who declared her "his perfect soldier." She bristled at the memory. "That's what I like about you Lieutenant Colonel. You don't let your emotions get in the way of work. The General may be dead, but you've moved on from your…frivolous time with the Flame Alchemist. The man had potential, but a true soldier never fails his duties…" The lower ranked men placed under her commission who had been working in Ranford's office at the time had scurried out of her way, seeing the murderous look in her eyes after she'd been dismissed. I belong to no one. Her trigger finger had itched to put a full magazine of .50 caliber bullets in the apathetic man's chest and not think twice about it. Heaven knew she was capable.
Now, at the end of yet another exhausting week, they had moved on to the second symbol in the message: two circles side by side, each with small tails that formed a disconnected flattened oval shape.
The phone rang. Riza jumped from the sudden noise and gave an irritated stare at it. She frowned and checked the time. 1827. Did I leave something at work? Please don't let it be Ranford. The Major General had taken to constantly calling Riza right after work hours for small, irritating things, and it was beginning to border on harassment.
"Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye speaking." She said cautiously, looking at her teammates who had gone quiet. Her face immediately softened when the caller answered back, and her eyes held a sad look.
"Hawkeye? Riza?" Ed voiced through the receiver. "It's me, Ed. Just wanted to let you know that Win and Al and I made it back from Xing. Er, safely."
"Hey, Ed." Riza smiled, glad to hear that her young friend was back safely. "Thanks for calling. I hope Xing was pleasant."
"It was! Ling and Lan Fan were very hospitable." He chuckled. "And we brought back some souvenirs for you and the team."
"That's very kind of you, Ed. You know you didn't have to get us anything. But we can come and pick them up in Resembool if you want." She offered, heart sinking. He was sure to ask about Roy soon.
"Ah no, that's okay. I'll bring them to you in East City instead! I'm actually planning on coming up there in a few days anyway."
"Only if you have the time, Ed. I know you're busy settling into your new house." Riza said, silently hoping Ed wouldn't hear the anxiety in her voice.
"Winry and I actually have something to tell you guys too." Ed paused. "Winry's pregnant! We're gonna be parents next year!" He sounded so proud and ecstatic over the phone, Riza felt her insides get lighter. They would make wonderful parents. "We found out three days ago in Xing when May came to us all giddy about something. Apparently she could feel the baby's aura with her alkahestry." Ed babbled.
"That's wonderful, Ed! I'm so happy for you two!" Riza was genuinely happy for them. Her spirits lifted just the slightest bit. "Have you guys thought of any names yet?"
"Well, not really, since we don't know if the baby's gonna be a boy or a girl. Maybe in a few months though. Oh, and er, Hawkeye?" Ed asked, irritation laced in his voice. "Is Mustang with you? I tried calling him at his apartment a few times earlier, when I know he's off duty, but there wasn't an answer. You know where he is?"
There it was. The inevitable question. Riza had known it was coming, but it still hit her like a ton of bricks. She briefly debated with herself on whether she should tell Ed or not, but her conscience told her that that wasn't fair; Ed wasn't a child anymore and he didn't need to be sheltered from things like this. He deserved to be told. She sighed heavily, telephone shaking. "Ed, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know where he is. No one does–"
"What do you mean no one does?" Ed cut in sharply, and Riza could hear the aggravation in his voice rising. "Did he take a private vacation or something? That cocky bastard…"
"No, Ed. No. I'm sorry you have to find out this way, but," her voice wavered just the tiniest bit, "the General's been kidnapped, Ed." She finally bit out.
Silence on the other end. Then, "What? He was kidnapped? When? By who?" Ed erupted. "What the fuck..."
"We don't know. He was shot right after you left the reception two weeks ago, and then kidnapped from the hospital he was treated at later that night. We think the kidnappers are after flame alchemy," She explained as calmly as she could. Falman stood up, pulled a chair over to her, and she sat down gratefully.
"Roy Mustang, you idiot." she heard Ed breathe into the phone. "I'll be there in three hours." The line went dead.
"Wait! Ed! Ed!" Riza called into the lifeless receiver. She sighed and hung up, her hands tense. "Ed's coming." She looked at her friends and bit her lip. "He said he'll be here in three hours."
"He always was an unpredictable kid." Havoc pointed out. "And impulsive." Fuery and Breda nodded in agreement. "But you know he's got a soft spot for the chief." He added, rubbing the back of his head and putting an arm around Rebecca.
"He's not a kid anymore, Havoc." Riza said, sighing.
"He has known him for almost half his life now." Falman pointed out. "It is typical behavior for a person who's lost someone they love. They usually try to seek out other people who were also close to the lost one for comfort during the first stages of grief and mourning, and then–"
"Yes, thank you, Falman. I think we get it." Breda shook his head. "So Fullmetal's coming back to East City, eh? Hope the city doesn't get trashed again." He muttered, recalling the last time Edward was at Headquarters.
"Well if he's coming here, then he might be helpful with this kind of stuff." Fuery suggested, looking hopeful.
Rebecca nodded. "You're right. He might as well be useful when he gets here." She snickered and shrugged.
"He just got back from Xing." Riza took her place on the floor again, looking worried. "He's bound to be exhausted. And Winry's pregnant." She said pointedly. "I'm sure he's stressed enough with a baby on the way already. I know Winry's fully capable of taking care of herself, but I'm not sure he should leave her when they just got back."
"The Fullmetal kid's gonna be a father?" Havoc snorted.
"Just because you're incapable of fatherly feelings, doesn't mean everyone else is." Rebecca scoffed back. "I'm sure he'll be a fine and devoted father."
"And Hell's about to freeze over." Her husband muttered, rolling his eyes.
Rebecca huffed and shoved him. "And this is why I have no chance of having kids." She crossed her arms and her mouth formed a small pout.
"Er, anyway, did the Fuhrer tell Madame Christmas yet?" Falman asked Riza.
She nodded, her eyes sad. "About two days after we got back to East City. The Fuhrer mentioned that her precise location was still unknown, but that she had left instructions with him on how to get a hold of her should something…happen." She thumbed one of the textbooks absentmindedly. "She was devastated. You know how much she worries about…him."
"Oh er, ma'am," Fuery pushed up his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat, "I've also had word from Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong that General Armstrong received the news of the General's, er, kidnapping, a few days ago. He didn't tell me exactly what she said, but mentioned that she refused to speak with him further on the matter." He said quietly.
"I hope you were being discreet." Riza said sharply. "We still don't know how much the enemy knows about us or our alliances." She jerked her head in his direction.
"Ma'am! The message was a telegram using Code Gamma 16, ma'am!" Fuery said, looking a bit startled at Riza's sudden change of attitude.
"Fine. Names as well?"
"Yes, ma'am!" Fuery almost saluted.
Riza sighed. "Peace, Second Lieutenant. You just scared me is all. Until we figure out who we're dealing with here, it's best we continue coding our messages to each other and other military personnel outside of East City. We just can't risk any more…accidents." But the General's kidnapping wasn't an accident. Was it? You let it happen.
"We understand, Riza." Rebecca dropped down from the couch and sat next to her friend on the floor, taking the book out of her hands. "We'll all be extra careful and on our guard until Mustang's back. We just need a bit more time."
"Time." Riza breathed, face hardening.
"Er, Hawkeye," Falman said, his eyes wide, and the large, frayed piece of yellowed parchment he was holding was quivering.
"What is it, Falman?" Breda asked, curious. "You look pale."
Falman placed the old parchment on the coffee table in front of them all, his finger placed on something in the lower right quadrant. They all leaned in to get a closer look.
The third symbol from the coded message was there, the perfect circle with three inscribed dots grouped together in the middle.
"Oh! You've found it!" Fuery exclaimed, excited about the discovery.
"Well, does it mean anything?" Riza peered closer, trying to read what was written around the symbol. "And what is this document?"
"It's an 1836 Amestrian article on its political relationship with Aerugo." Falman said quickly, still looking white. "I guess it was accidentally grabbed from the library when we were pulling books off the shelf near the Political Sciences section."
"So what does it mean?" Breda asked, impatient.
Falman pointed again to the document, right next to the symbol. One word was printed there in tall, grim-looking capital letters.
DEATH.
"I suppose you want to know why we're looking for that damned sigil, General," Macer said, looking down his nose at his prisoner. "I might as well tell you. You're not going anywhere for a very long time anyway."
Another week of torture had passed. Although every day Roy wanted to, he hadn't died yet, and the pain continued, seeping into his core until it almost defined him. He and Macer had "meals" together almost every day now, with Macer's men forcing him to eat. Two more of his ribs had been broken and his left leg had been broken again; it was now attempting to heal itself at an odd angle, and jutted out awkwardly from the rest of his body. Macer had slowly torn out the four staples in his chest, and had re-stapled his dog tags almost right after, after he had licked the old ones clean. He had also resorted to beating him with glass bottles, not caring if they broke when they collided with Roy's skin. Bits of broken glass were now embedded in his sides and back, streaming little rivulets of dried blood. Infection was imminent.
Claude had made a visit during the week as well, but Macer had told him that he wasn't welcome anymore, and had flicked the whip at him. Undaunted, Claude had crouched in front of Roy, gloating at his pain and blood, and had cuffed him around the head. Macer kicked Claude away, muttering about "soiling his perfection."
By now, Roy had lost all feeling in his hands, and he had noticed his fingernails had started to form white spots; he had constant stomach cramps, was vomiting almost every hour, and had a strange metallic taste in his mouth all the time. He had recognized this particular set of symptoms almost immediately: slight arsenic poisoning.
As an alchemist, he knew the properties of the element by heart, and tried to remember its treatment and prognosis. The best treatment for chronic arsenic ingestion is ch…chalk? Chel…chel…What's the damn thing called?! Chel…chilly? Chelation? CHELATION. Chelation uses agents that are able to sequester harmful chemicals and irritants away from the bloodstream and out of the body…these agents are available at any hospital. If not treated immediately…a patient suffering from chronic arsenic ingestion may fall into a short coma…will eventually die from poisoning. He squeezed his eyes shut. So Macer had been feeding him small amounts of arsenic every time he forced food down his throat, and making him hopelessly sick. He felt the urge to throw up again but forced it back down. On the bright side he thought dimly I'll be slightly immune to arsenic in the future. If I have a future.
He glared up at Macer, wobbly from the poisoning, silently willing him to continue. If the sick asshole was gonna talk and spill his master's secrets, why not let him?
"A long time, General. At least until you tell us the location." Macer looked almost hopeful for a second, but his face darkened again. "And from what you've shown us, well, it's not looking too good for you, is it?" He stroked his bare chin thoughtfully. He nudged Roy's broken leg, making him wince jerkily. "You see, my boss is an alchemist too, you know, but not one of those second-rate ones. Oh no, he's far better than you." He giggled, now tapping a foot on Roy's broken leg. "So far, he's appropriated the…secrets, I guess you would call them, of Earth, Wind, and Ice alchemy. You can see why he's taken an interest in your little gloves." He shrugged. "Apparently, he has a debt to repay and time's running out."
So he needs Flame Alchemy to repay his debt? Roy almost laughed. This was why he'd been kidnapped? This was what he was being tortured for? Because some stupid bastard was in trouble with his boss? This is ridiculous. He thought it had at least been for something a little direr, considering what he had gone through. He had gone up against Father for heaven's sake; this Crow guy seemed like a half-dead butterfly compared to that Homunculus.
Macer cackled, but then shrugged. "Took a long time in figuring out how to get a hold of you General, you're a hard one to catch! But we found out that Fullmetal brat was getting married in that stupid country town and you had to be attending. You were so close to our border, we just couldn't resist. So here you are. Finally." He released Roy's leg, standing up straight and drew something from his pocket. "I also have something you might recognize. Something to motivate you to remember where that blasted transmutation circle is. Want it back?" He dangled something white in front of Roy's battered face.
His eyes took a while to adjust. What the hell? …is that? Where…need to…out…get out…leave…Riza…glove…glove…GLOVE. His incoherent mind yelled at him, and his eyes dilated to black points. His glove! Macer flaunted his alchemy glove in front of him and started to do a little dance, like a small child playing keep-away. "So you recognize it, eh? You want it back?" Macer chuckled, happy with himself. "Huh? Want it back?" He sounded childish and immature. "All it takes is one word, and it's yours again."
Roy tried to move his arms from behind his back, eyes focused as best he could on his glove, pulling at the chains and rattling them, but to no avail. He was bound too tightly and his hands were useless. He felt like throwing up again and coughed violently. My glove! I've got to get it back! Give it to me! I'll burn you all to bubbling grease! GIVE IT TO ME!
"Sorry General. Can't give it back unless–"
"–unless the location, Roy Mustang." A deep and raspy, but soothing, voice entered the room, expensive dress shoes crunching on the dirt floor. "And I know you know it." It stopped in front of Roy.
"Sir!" Macer blurted out, his face surprised but submissive. He shoved Roy's glove behind his back, trying to conceal the fragile weapon. "I didn't know you'd, ah, that you'd be visiting us today. Didn't know you were back! Business going on as usual, still working on it, sir, you know the deal, it takes time with these kinds of things, especially with ah, er, this, um, this kind of, er, guest, he's a stubborn one! But I'm sure Ania's been keeping you updated on our, um, our activities down here, I hope we haven't been bothering you, sir, it's just–"
"Shut your trap, Macer." The voice snapped again, and Macer immediately stopped rambling and clamped his mouth in a hard, straight line. "I know what you've been doing and I don't appreciate the racket it's causing. Get out of my sight."
Roy dared a timid look up in front of him, dull eyes partially hidden behind his dirty and unkempt hair. A fairly tall and well-built man in his late fifties stood before him; his short black hair was streaked with gray and neatly slicked back, and he was dressed in a clean and sharp black evening suit, looking disapprovingly at Macer, who was cowering, his haughty demeanor vanished. The man's cold and piercing eyes were narrow and slanted. Possibly Xingese? The other Aerugonians had all stopped what they were doing and were now standing in a straight line at attention.
Was this their "boss?" Was this guy the Crow?
"Er yessir!" Macer squeaked and backpedaled, tripping over his own feet. The tall man snatched Roy's glove from Macer as he dashed past him and cuffed him over the head. "What are you doing with this?" He boomed. "How dare you take this from the Nest!" He bellowed, catching Macer upside the head again. "This is the last one, and you're just carelessly parading around with it in front of the Flame Alchemist? Fool!" He smacked Macer a third time, knocking him off his feet. Macer scrambled around in the dirt next to Roy and shot him a deadly look. Roy smiled grimly, ignoring his burning leg, and stuck out his tongue.
"Leave!" The older man roared. "Get your ass to Ania. She will deal with you."
Macer squealed again and bolted from the room, leaving a small dust cloud.
The older man tucked the glove into a pocket on the inside of his jacket. "I'm terribly sorry, General. Macer's always been…difficult." He straightened his jacket and brushed off invisible lint. "Though he is the best at what he does, he tends to get a little out of hand and not follow orders. I'm sure you can relate, being a military man and all." He waved a hand and started pacing in front of Roy. "I was busy at the time you arrived two weeks ago, and I apologize for not introducing myself earlier; I had business elsewhere. I am known as the Crow."
Roy cocked his head and retched.
The Crow looked at him, bored, and rolled his dark eyes. "Ah yes, arsenic does wonderful things to the body, does it not? But you must already know that, being an alchemist." He sighed loudly. "I suppose we'll have to take you off of that now—you look rather…ill. I did not intend for your condition to get this far." He paused. "Ania was kind enough to tell me the extent of your injuries, and I would much rather treat you than torture you. However, you possess something that I desire most deeply. Flame Alchemy."
Roy heaved his head up to the Crow, leaning to one side. "I don't know." He rasped, already anticipating the questioning. This man had a more menacing aura than Macer, and he felt unnerved by the Crow's presence. This man exuded sheer power and dominance.
"Now now, General. You do know where the original transmutation circle is. Perhaps I can give you more cause to remember, since I hear you've been difficult to work with. Water!" He barked behind him, and one of the Aerugonians leapt into motion, bringing his master a large jug of clean water and uncorking it; the Crow knelt down and took both hands out of his pockets. He suddenly clapped his palms together, and placed them over the opening of the jug, earning a few quizzical stares from the men behind him. "I hate to do this to you, General." Streaks of bright blue alchemical energy flashed, blinding Roy's sensitive eyes, and the Crow flung out a hand. No transmutation circle? No transmutation circle! The blue flashes ripped through the air and sped towards Roy, who tried in vain to avoid it, but something deathly cold struck his side. He's seen the Truth! His mind screamed. He noticed that the Crow looked somewhat pleased with himself, and he lolled his head to see what had hit him.
A long dagger of ice protruded from his right side, punching a bullet-sized hole in his skin. "You bitch," he gasped, going into shock. "You fucking bitch! I don't know!" His insides were burning and freezing at the same time, and his blood was staining the ice shard red, its heat hissing against the cold.
The Crow didn't answer, still holding out his hand. More blue light crackled and the dagger of ice melted rapidly in him, now boiling with intense heat. Roy screamed out, a deafening screech echoed through the warehouse, prompting the Aerugonians to cover their ears. He was being boiled from the inside alive.
"The whereabouts, General, if you please." The Crow said calmly.
Roy just cursed at him. "I DON'T KNOW!" He bellowed; the boiling water was melting the outside skin, swollen blisters forming around where the ice had pierced him. Another ice dagger slammed into him on the opposite side, again melting and beginning to boil and steam.
"The location, General." The Crow repeated. "You do know, and I would greatly like for you to tell me."
The pain was unbearable. He could barely see. He gasped for air, but that made the pain even worse. He threw back his head and howled in impossible agony, the sound bouncing off the thin walls. His mind was screaming at him to tell this man something. Anything. Anything to make the pain dissipate. ANYTHING! GODDAMNIT SAY SOMETHING YOU IDIOT!
"HYDROGEN!" He shrieked. "ATOMIC N-NUMBER ONE…DIATOMIC NONME-METAL…ATOMIC MASS O-ONE P-POINT ZERO ZERO N-N-NINE FOUR…THREE IS-ISOTOPES!"
The Crow frowned and stopped his alchemical reaction. Had he heard correctly? Was that…
"Helium…atomic number two…noble gas…atomic mass four point zero zero two s-six zero two two…nine isotopes…Lithium…atomic number three…al-alkali metal…atomic mass s-six point nine four one two…t-two isotopes…Beryllium…at-t-tomic number four…alkaline ear-earth metal…atomic mass nine point one two one eight th-three one f-f-five…t-twelve isotopes…Boron…atomic number five…" Roy whimpered, gasping every few words.
Apparently it was the periodic table of elements. The Crow sighed regretfully and released Roy from the boiling water, lowering his hand. "Perhaps I pushed him too hard." Steam rose in gentle curls around Roy's body, and as he was relieved, he slumped against his post, still reciting the table. He instinctively edged closer to his post away from the Crow, shaking violently and moaning.
"You broke 'im, sir." An Aerugonian snickered, and the rest followed suit, trying to contain their amusement. "Macer'll be jealous."
The Crow was silent. He knew exactly what he had done. After serving in the military himself for a large part of his life, he still remembered what had been pounded into his own head during the lessons on torture, should a soldier be captured. The enemy will make you talk eventually; find something repetitive and memorize it. The military's secrets are to be kept secret. It was fitting then, the Crow mused, that Mustang chose the elements. An alchemist to the very core.
"Oxygen…atomic number eight…ch-chalcogen…atomic mass fifteen point nine nine n-nine f-four…three is-isotopes… Fluorine…atomic n-n-number nine…halogen…atomic m-mass eighteen point nine nine ei-eight four zero three o-one six three…s-six…"
The Crow's prisoner continued to chant, going through the elements one at a time. "Leave this place." He said sternly to the line of men behind him, still watching Roy, and they shuffled behind him, muttering. "I must speak with the General alone." The men tramped out of the warehouse, avoiding the mess around Roy's post and the large room was suddenly very empty.
"General." He sighed. "You disappoint me. I was hoping for the location today, but in your current state…" He trailed off. "Anything else for me?"
"…atomic mass twenty-eight point zero eight f-five one…twenty-f-four isotopes…"
"I suppose not."
The Crow crouched down and reached out to Roy, who wide eyes were unfocused and unseeing, his body in shock from the sudden pain and torture. The older man cupped his face softly with a large but slender hand, feeling the sharp jaw line, and gently wiped away some blood and dirt with the pad of his thumb. "Such beautiful eyes you have, so much like your mother's. So much like your poor mother's," he said quietly. "My son."
"…twenty-f-four isotopes… Arg-g-gon… atomic n-number eight-t-teen…noble g-gas…atomic mass thirty-n-nine point nine f-four eight one…twenty-four is-isotopes… Pot-t-tass-ssium…"
