A/N: I just want to preface this chapter by asking you to trust me. I know the ending looks bad, but know that I have a reason for everything I do and write. It will all make sense next chapter. But for now, please enjoy, and thank you for your reviews, favorites, and follows!


Collapsing onto his bed, Edward stared up at the ceiling as his mind continued to reel. In the short amount of time he had spent at Fort Briggs, he had learned so much about the Homunculi's intentions… And yet he still felt there was more to the puzzle. If his theory was correct, then they were using the country's shape advantageously in order to create a massive transmutation circle… But for what purpose?

Something of that magnitude would require an immense amount of energy and power… But without seeing a map and without Falman's knowledge it was difficult to draw any further conclusions. Still, something inside of him told him that its purpose was dire…-

His thoughts were interrupted when someone pounded on the steel door that enclosed him in his room. Sitting up, he strained to listen, hoping to hear anything that could tell him who it was. But if it had been Buccaneer or Miles or even Falman, then they surely would have used a key to unlock it and gain entrance. Meaning that it was possible it was…

When the knocks broke his thoughts again, he slid off of the bed and cautiously crept over to and stopped in front of the door. Taking a deep breath to chase away the feeling of uneasiness that had begun to settle in his gut, Edward clapped his hands together and touched them to the door, changing the configuration of the lock to allow it to open. When he heard the confirmatory click that signaled it was open, he slowly opened the door and found himself face-to-face with 'Mustang.'

The General gave him a curious look and asked, "You dead bolted your door?"

"No," Edward replied evenly. "If I could I still would. They want to make sure I stay put so they lock it themselves."

'Mustang' raised a dubious brow. "I'm surprised. I'd expect you to sneak around given your track record."

"And possibly endanger Winry and Al's lives if I overstep the boundary? Not a chance."

The corner of the General's lip tugged upward. "It seems we were right in choosing Alphonse and Winry Rockbell as our pawns."

Pushing back the feelings of disgust the Homunculus had extracted, Edward steadily asked, "Now that you know I'm here, what else do you want?"

'Mustang's' sinister smile grew and he tilted his head slightly. "I just wanted to make sure you were still keeping your promise to us."

"Of course I am," Edward replied bluntly to the threat. "Like I said, I know not to step over the boundary."

The General nodded thoughtfully. "I admire your maturity, Fullmetal. Hell, even the Colonel is surprised."

Edward scoffed. "Well tell him that I've matured since the last time we talked."

"Duly noted," the Homunculus replied with even tone.

"So is there anything else you needed," Edward asked warily.

'Mustang' shoved his hands into this pockets and shrugged. "I guess there really isn't. You've answered all of my questions." The corners of his lips twitched again, likely amused by Edward's distrustful expression. "And since that's the case, I suppose I'll be going."

As he turned away, Edward muttered, "Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out."

"Fullmetal!"

Edward froze upon hearing the General's strained gasp. Jerking his head up, he watched as he straightened up and stiffened.

After a few moments of silence, however, the General turned and glanced over his shoulder at him, beads of sweat rolling down his temple and his eyes narrowed with disdain. When his eyes locked with Edward's, he growled, "Nevermind," before turning and stalking away.

Closing the door behind him, Edward leaned back against it and stared down at the floor as he fell into a stupor. Not just because of the General's reminder, but because he was confident he had just heard Mustang's voice…


It had been the same as the night before. Edward was suddenly awoken from a dead sleep and dragged out of his bed amidst a flurry of confusion and flashes of whatever nightmare the night had decided to plague him with. This time, however, he recovered faster. Seeing this, Buccaneer granted him the right to walk on his own two feet.

Shuffling along down the darkened hallway, he allowed the larger man to wordlessly guide him to the small throne room he had visited the previous night. And when they had reached it and Buccaneer pushed the door open, Edward slowly stepped into the room and found himself in the same position he had been before.

Seated on the stone seat as she had been the night before, General Armstrong glanced up at him and held his stare, tapping her finger impatiently against the chair's armrest. Not daring his eyes to wander, he registered two stilled forms on either side of him, both of which he assumed were Warrant Officer Falman and Major Miles.

"A promise is a promise, Fullmetal Alchemist," the Ice Queen said as she broke the silence, leaning back in the chair and crossing one leg over the other..

Keeping his expression as impassive as he could, Edward raised his eyes and replied, "I know. And you'll get your information, regardless if you actually believe any of it or not." Though she only showed it with a twitch of her brow, Edward knew that her interest was piqued.

"Try me," she challenged impatiently as she folded her arms.

"But first," he began, "I want you to tell me what they—" He was cut off when Buccaneer gave him a shove.

When he turned around to face the Major, the behemoth growled, "I didn't hear the General say she was opening the floor to answer anything from you."

Holding firm to his resolve, Edward argued, "I have to know what they told her about that thing that attacked the fort. It might give me a basis for—"

"A chimera."

Whipping his head back around, Edward saw that the General had leaned forward and was now eyeing them critically.

"Sir," Buccaneer began again for clarification.

"They told me it was a chimera," she continued as her hardened focus returned to Edward. "One that was crafted by combining some sort of ape and a naked rat."

"And do you believe what they told you," Edward asked.

"Of course not," she scoffed. "Anyone that was near it could hear its constant droning. It was obvious it at least had some level of human intelligence."

"What did they want you to do with it," he inquired.

She drew her lips into a thin line, returning to her less-than-amused demeanor. "That's for me to disclose once you provide me with the information I requested," she answered. "So you tell me: If that wasn't a chimera, then what was it?"

Edward paused and chewed his lower lip for a few moments as a feeling of uneasiness washed over him. This was the moment. The moment that would truly determine if General Armstrong was friend or foe. Someone that he could either trust or add to the ever-growing list of enemies they seemed to be accumulating. After this moment, there would be no going back...

Still, it was the only thing he could do after being backed into a corner by both the General and 'Mustang' – especially since the latter refused to budge. At the very least he could try and find some footing with the former.

Deciding that there really was no going back, he swallowed back his hesitance. "You're right in saying that it isn't a chimera… Although," he continued slowly, "It was created using alchemy."

The corner of her lip twitched as she bowed forward and rested her elbows on her knees, resting her chin on the bridge her fingers formed when she wove them together. Edward knew that, despite the fact she had not pursued the art of alchemy, she would likely have some knowledge on the subject, especially since her younger brother was proficient in it. And he could tell by her expression and how her eyes widened slightly that he had succeeded, leading her exactly to the conclusion he hoped he would.

"Are you telling me that they created an artificial human," she concluded. "Something that is supposedly against one of the three restrictions on the practice of alchemy?"

Edward flinched upon hearing her recounting of the 'restrictions,' knowing all too well the reason for such a restriction. Still, he could not allow himself to dwell on the mistakes of his past. Not during a time where the ever looming uncertainty of the future hung in the balance. Clenching his metal fist, he looked her square in the eye and nodded. "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying. It's called a Homunculus."

"And what exactly is the purpose of a 'Homunculus,'" she inquired. "How would the military benefit from such an abomination to nature?"

"Well," Edward began, "You saw what it did down there. You saw how it threw those tanks around as if they were toys. These… beings have capabilities no normal human could possess, even with alchemy."

"So it's a weapon of war?"

Edward shook his head. "No. If my thoughts about this one are correct, then its purpose is not to fight in a war."

"This one," she analyzed as she raised her brows. "There are more of them?"

Edward grimaced, realizing his misstep. He hadn't meant to bring the topic in that fashion. He had hoped to segue into it another way. However, he knew that since she had honed in on that particular word choice, it would be difficult to dissuade her. He reluctantly nodded and muttered, "There are more. At least five more."

"And are they all similar to the one we encountered earlier?"

He pursed his lips and then slowly shook his head. "No. They're all… different in some ways."

"How are they different," she pressed.

He dropped his shoulders and let out a quiet breath before slowly continuing. "From what I understand, they all have different roles. Some of them seem to be for utility, while others are for infiltration."

"So you're saying that they've infiltrated the military," she said, her tone implying a statement rather than a question.

"Yes," he replied as his eyes slowly wandered up and locked with hers. "They've infiltrated military command." She leaned forward and steepled her fingers, watching him intently. She was expecting him to go on and tell her who or what was involved.

Edward swallowed hard, the uncertainty of what her reaction would be suspending him there in that moment. However, something inside of him told him that in some way she already knew. From what he had heard and gathered, General Armstrong was far from dim. He knew that she was a strategist, a planner. Always five steps or more ahead of her opponent. Just like Mustang had been…

It was likely she had already pieced it all together given what he had told her and what she had observed on her own. She knew that 'Mustang' was not acting as he normally would in her presence. What those traits were, however, he did not know. All he knew was that she had detected it, and wanted answers.

Her lips formed a thin line and she began to tap the tip of one finger against the other, impatient with his stalled response.

He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before his eyes returned to hers and he uttered, "'Mustang'… He's one of them. Both he and Lieutenant Hawkeye were taken by them."

The General's brows knitted together and she shot him a critical glare. "Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye?" When Edward bobbed his head to clarify, she added, "And Roy Mustang… Are Homunculi," her eyes shining with the faintest hints of both amusement and disbelief.

Balling his hands into fists, Edward held firm to his reveal said, "I know that it seems crazy, but I need you to trust me. I—"

Without looking away from Edward, General Armstrong cut him off and uttered, "Warrant Officer Falman."

Hearing her commanding tone, the grey-haired officer took a nervous step forward and saluted. "Yes, sir?"

"Is what the boy says true? Are both Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye artificial beings? Or 'Homunculi' as he calls them?"

Falman hesitated, likely remembering the repercussions the 'General' had laid out before fragmenting the team. He cast his glance toward Edward, seeking his guidance.

Edward regretted General Armstrong dragging Falman into the matter, but at that point any confirmation they could get was crucial. Especially since the General's keen intelligence would have likely gotten her the answer at some point. And if they were the ones that could give her the information she needed, then perhaps they would be able to work together with her to save not just their families, but the General and Lieutenant as well.

Hoping that he conveyed those thoughts to the Warrant Officer, Edward gave him a firm nod to direct him to continue.

Receiving Edward's signal, the Falman stood up straighter, dropped his salute and confirmed, "Yes, sir. I have seen it with my own eyes."

"I see," she mused as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Then what was your reason for keeping the matter a secret when I asked you before, Warrant Officer?"

Upon hearing her accusation, Falman began to falter. "Well, sir, I—"

"He didn't have a choice," Edward chimed in, drawing General Armstrong's attention back to him. "None of us were given a choice except to comply."

"Is that so," she asked as she raised her brows. "And what means did they employ in order to get you to comply? It's obvious that it must be something very dear to you; something you would lie to a higher authority about despite their threats.

"For example… Is it a hostage, perhaps?"

A hostage… When she put it that way, Edward supposed that that is what they were… All of them. Bowing his head, he replied, "Because they have the Colonel and the Lieutenant, they know all of our weaknesses, including mine." Balling his fists tighter and tighter until his flesh hand had begun to turn white, he muttered, "They have my younger brother and my childhood friend." Gesturing to Falman, he added, "And they threatened his brother and family."

"So what you're telling me," she itemized, "Is that the military has been creating artificial beings using alchemy and has strategically placed them in the military's higher command? And in order to remain undetected, they have taken hostages to keep anyone that does know to remain quiet."

"Yes," Edward replied. "That's exactly what they're doing."

"Then where are the real Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye? Have they been killed and replaced?"

"No," Edward answered quickly as he shook his head. "They're still alive and they're still fighting."

A look of confusion briefly crossed her face before she recomposed herself and asked, "What exactly does that mean?"

"Well," he said as his stomach began to knot. "It's a bit complicated…-"

"I have time," came her short reply. "Tell me where they are then and how they're still alive."

"That's why it's complicated," Edward explained. "Because they're still there. Those are their bodies the Homunculi are using." When she raised a dubious brow, he backpedaled and said, "Homunculi are artificial humans that have a Philosopher's Stone at their core."

"A Philosopher's Stone," Major Miles echoed. "I was led to believe that those were a part of myth and legend."

Edward shook his head. "They aren't. My brother and I finally found one… And figured out what they're made of." Turning his attention back to the General, he continued, "A Philosopher's Stone is a collection of souls that have been concentrated together in one of two forms: a solid stone or a viscous liquid. These Stones have a sort of… essence to them, or rather a personality.

"And we figured out that if one that is in a liquid state is taken and dispensed into the vein of a human being, then the personality can spread to virtually every part of that person and can take over."

"So what you're telling me," she said as she sat back and crossed her arms, "Is that if these Stones which make up the Homunculi are placed in someone, they become a Homunculus themselves?"

Edward flinched and then nodded. When she said it like that, it almost seemed like science fiction, something out of a story. "I know it seems crazy," he began, "But—"

"I believe you," she replied. His face must have immediately formed an expression that conveyed his shock because she added, "After seeing that abomination and what it's capable of, nothing will surprise me anymore.

"But now I want to know the statuses of Mustang and Hawkeye. What can be done with them knowing what we know now?"

"That's the thing," he answered. "I haven't figured out how to separate them yet."

The General leaned to one side and rested her elbow on the armrest and settled her chin on her fist. "Is that so? Then you don't know how to salvage them? It's unfortunate then, having to kill them. Especially Hawkeye who, as I remember, was a competent soldier—"

"There won't be any killing," Edward replied crudely. "They told me themselves that there was a way. And I'm going to find out how."

She quirked a brow and asked, "Then you'll hesitate when they kill one of their hostages? Or if they decide to turn on you?"

"They wouldn't do that," he shot back. When she narrowed her eyes, he lowered his tone. "They wouldn't do that… Not as long as we comply with them."

"And yet here you are revealing their secret to me," she observed. "So much for your 'compliance.'"

"That's because you backed me into a corner," Edward countered. "I didn't have a choice. Not without you turning to 'Mustang' after I wouldn't give you what you want and tipping him off about my behavior."

"So this is all about your brother and friend," she replied. "And keeping them safe…"

"Yes," he answered firmly. "And if telling you and asking you to keep this a secret is what it will take, then so be it."

"How do you know I won't go behind your back and tell them," she asked. "After all, you don't know nearly enough about me."

Edward paused, his eyes fixated on her impassive expression. Then, he exhaled slowly and said, "I guess I don't know. I can only go on what I've heard and what I know about the Armstrong name and its dedication to serving our country," he answered.

A small smile crept across her lips. "Fair enough," she mused. "But now I want to know how to piece it all together."

"Piece it together," he echoed.

"The Homunculi… Philosopher's Stones…And the seemingly rampant corruption in the military's highest command. And Mustang and Hawkeye being woven into it all… All of this must have some sort of meaning to it," General Armstrong stated.

"That's the thing I've been trying to piece together since I got here," Edward noted. "And after going down into the tunnel that Homunculus dug its way out of, I think I may have an idea." Looking back at Buccaneer, he asked, "Were you able to find a map of Amestris?"

"Yeah," the mountain of a man rumbled as he stepped over to Edward and reached into his jacket, producing a rolled up piece of parchment a few moments later.

When he handed it over, Edward got down on his knees and unrolled it, smoothing it out on the floor. Turning his glance toward Falman, he asked, "Would you still be able to recall those incidents we discussed earlier that resulted in major bloodshed?"

Falman walked over to him and stooped down beside Edward and nodded. "I can recall all of them," he affirmed.

"Great," Edward replied. "And would you happen to have a pen?" As the Officer dug into his pocket to find one, Edward saw the General shift and stand out of the corner of his eye. He watched as she crossed her arms and roamed over to them so that she looked over Edward's shoulder.

After Officer Falman handed him the pen, the older man said, "July 1558. The Riviere Incident," as he pointed to the exact location on the map.

Edward nodded and circled the spot, prompting Falman to continue listing the incidents. General Armstrong, Buccaneer, and Miles looked on, watching them intently as they worked, until Falman finished by saying, "And finally, 1914. The Liore riot. There were mass casualties."

Edward froze, stunned by the revelation. Jerking his head up, he said, "After I exposed the founder of the religion as a fraud, I immediately reported to Eastern headquarters, didn't I?"

"That's right. And the east area troops mobilized and stopped a riot before it began."

Edward knitted his brows together. "Then what happened? What went so horribly wrong?!"

Falman grimaced. "We lost jurisdiction of the site to the Central City troops that came later. The situation only exploded after the troops forced their way in and the eastern region troops were dismissed. I heard they just observed the disturbance and did nothing to stop it."

"Damn it," Edward cried as he dropped the pen and raised his hand to his forehead. "Damn it. Why would they—"

"Keep working on that map, Fullmetal."

Whirling around to look up at General Armstrong, he watched as she nodded toward the Warrant Officer. "Taking it out on Falman won't get us anywhere. We don't have time to sit and watch you two work out your guilt. Especially if our friends from Central Command discover us convening here."

Though he was still in shock over Falman's reveal, Edward knew that the General was right. The sooner they completed their task, the sooner they could begin to work on their next step of the plan. Begrudgingly picking up the pen, he circled Liore. "Next," he muttered, "I'll connect each site." Feeling their eyes on him, he slowly drew lines between the areas… and watched as the hidden circle began to reveal itself.

And just like he had suspected, it was—

"How can this be," Falman uttered. "It's… Identical to the transmutation circle from Laboratory Number 5!"

"Wait," Buccaneer muttered, "Is that the circle that uses human lives to create the Philosopher's Stone? How many lives would be sacrificed if someone created a stone with a circle the size of our country?!"

How many indeed, Edward thought as he stared down at it. But the idea behind it… It just didn't seem like it was enough. "No," he murmured as he looked up from it. "There must be something more…" Something they weren't putting together.

"More? Like what," Falman asked. "What more could there possibly be?"

"Like," Edward began as Envy's words slowly returned to him. "Like… Us being 'candidates' for 'human sacrifice.' There has to be something more."

General Armstrong crouched down next to him and pointed at a spot on the map. When he followed her finger down to the area of 'Riviere,'she said, "The oldest is the Riviere incident of 1558. That's right after the founding of Amestris. They attacked Riviere, a neighboring nation, without first declaring war."

"Wait a second," Falman breathed as he slid the map over toward himself and stared down at it. After a few moments of silence, he gasped. "That means the military was involved in every one of these incidents! It was always either a coup d'etat or a civil war. And Liore was no different. Normally, the sect leader would have been killed and that would have been the end of it, but the Central City troops came and made an even bigger mess of it.

"This has been happening since the founding of this country!"

"In the beginning, Amestris's territory was small, but it expanded its borders by conquering the smaller countries around it," General Armstrong noted. "I seized just enough land to create this circle." She laughed bitterly. "How very efficient of them. They didn't try to accomplish their goal with this country, after all. Instead, they created it from scratch in order to accomplish their goal."

"General," Buccaneer replied warily. "You're saying the only reason this country accepted a military dictatorship was to serve this plot."

She sneered. "Quite the rational strategy. It seems that everything went according to their plan."

"It's like it's all a big game to them," Falman breathed.

Edward clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. "This must mean that Lieutenant Colonel Hughes had it all figured out. He must have seen the transmutation circle for the Philosopher's Stone before he died. Since he worked in the court-martial office, it was probably pretty easy for him to research all of these military campaigns. So when he got to the part where he discovered why the country was founded, he…" The pen in Edward's hand snapped in half as he tightened his grip.

Hughes had died… Because he knew.

"I don't like this," General Armstrong seethed as she stared down at the map. "Because from what I see, the next place to see bloodshed, or rather the only place left, is Fort Briggs."

Edward jerked his head up to look at her before turning his attention toward the spot on the map she had pointed too. After connecting the dots in his head, he realized her suspicions… and confirmed them.

"Is that why those bastards are here," she snarled. "What are they planning to use my fortress for?"

"I… I don't know," Edward said as he raised his eyes to meet hers again. "But now you know everything that I do."

The General clenched her fists. "So that bastard Homunculus is using Mustang's body against my fortress… Against our nation?!"

"Both of them are," Edward corrected as he got to his feet.

"Right," she replied bluntly as she crossed her arms again.

When Edward made a move to respond, Major Miles stepped forward and showed her the inside of his pocket watch. He watched as her face twisted and formed a scowl. As the Major dipped his head and stepped away, General Armstrong turned her attention to Edward again and growled, "We've been here for nearly a half-hour at this point. Any longer and they might question my absence."

Edward knitted his brows together. "Who would," he asked slowly.

"It turns out General Raven had been slinking around sometime last night before the monster attacked us. One of my men encountered him wandering down near one of the gates and promptly escorted him back to his room. And if he or the Homunculus have any ounce of suspicion, then it's likely they may be walking around even at this hour."

Edward gulped, remembering his encounter with 'Mustang' earlier that evening. If he visited Edward's room again and found that he wasn't there, there was no telling what he would do.

"So for now I want you to digest what you've discovered, just as I plan to," she continued. "You've given me a lot to consider now between the existence of the Homunculi and the supposed corruption of our government."

"And after you've thought about it," Edward asked carefully.

"Then I will proceed accordingly," she answered. "And do what is best for our nation and for Fort Briggs."

"And what if it doesn't align with the safety of our families," Edward pressed cautiously. "Then what?"

"I can assure you that it will be for the best," she replied.

Edward paused, unable to read her expression. On one hand he wanted to put his trust in her, but on the other… On the other he knew that like Mustang, she was a strategist. From what he gathered she was the epitome of the northern mantra: Survival of the fittest.

"Major Miles, escort Fullmetal back to his dorm undetected," she ordered, drawing Edward out of his thoughts.

"Yes, sir," the Major replied as he threw her a crisp salute and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Officer Falman prepare himself to move as well, but was surprised when she spoke again. "Officer Falman, I want you to remain here for the moment."

"Y-yes, sir," he replied as he too saluted.

"Fullmetal."

Edward turned his attention back to her and caught her eye. Seeing that she had his attention, she said, "I want you to think long and hard about what we discussed here tonight. About both the circle and the repercussions of working with the Homunculi. Regardless of what you think you believe, you are viewing the situation through rose-colored glasses. Because no matter how you look at it, you have allowed monsters to gain the upper hand on you and whether you like it or not, you have played into their hands.

"Think long and hard about it, Fullmetal Alchemist. Because when it comes down to it, you may very well need to make a decision you won't want to."

Before he could move to answer, Major Miles maneuvered him around and toward the door. But while the conversation there was over, the turmoil it caused and consequences of it were far from settled. But despite receiving her word, Edward no longer knew what to think. Her rhetoric had been hopeful, assuring, until she told him the same thing that every other person had told him: That if it came down to it, he would have to make the decision to end their lives.


After Miles had escorted Edward Elric out, Buccaneer looked down at his General and murmured, "General," she emerged from her thoughts to look up at him. "Do you truly believe what the boy told you?"

"Of course I do," she replied matter-of-factly. "Didn't you see how terrified he was?" When he opened his mouth to respond, she continued, "Someone like him wouldn't make up stories just because. And besides, I had already confirmed it with my own eyes long before this. The Mustang I met the other day was not the same one I had the displeasure of knowing before. Leading me to believe that his story is, indeed, true."

"Then if what he says is true," Buccaneer replied as he felt a bead of sweat form on his brow, "Then what do you think we should do to proceed?"

"Oh," she replied as the ghost of a smile graced her lips. "I know how we will be moving forward at this point…"


Dabbing the sweat from his brow, Vato Falman cautiously snuck into the fort's phone room and seated himself at the booth furthest from the door. Hurriedly fishing out a small piece of paper from his pocket, he quickly unfolded it and smoothed it out on the table in front of him. Pausing to look up and around for any signs of movement, he held his breath and waited. But when nothing stirred, he turned back to his work and picked up the phone's receiver, hastily typing the phone number on the sheet of paper into the phone's main console, his finger shaking from the mix of fear and adrenaline.

He inhaled deeply as he pressed the receiver to his ear. When it began to ring, he slowly exhaled and closed his eyes, telling himself that he had anticipated the moment… Just not as soon as he had thought.

Just as he began to exhale and release his nerves again, the receiver clicked and a woman's voice came on over the line. "Hello?"

"I apologize for calling so late… Darling," Vato said into the receiver, stumbling over the foreign term he had been instructed to use. "But I had some incredible news to share and I just couldn't wait to tell you."

"Oh, Vato," the woman on the other end of the line squealed. "It's okay, Honey! What is it you want to tell me?"

"Well," he whispered as he scanned the area around him once more, confirming that there was no one else around, "I think I found a way that we could be together…"


After coughing laboriously into the hand cupped over her mouth, Izumi Curtis reluctantly pulled it away and looked down into it, seeing that her palm was covered in a fine film of bright red blood. She grimaced as she slowly rose to her feet and shuffled over to the other side of the tiny makeshift kitchen she was seated in, grabbing a napkin off of the counter in order to wipe away its excess.

Taking a few steps into the center of the room, she stopped beneath the single light bulb that was suspended from the ceiling and began to wipe at the palm of her hand. It was difficult visualizing it despite the light being overhead, however. The small home they had been graciously invited into was without most of its utilities and the power there was questionable. Still, she was thankful that the Ishvalan refugees that had formed the small Northern community had been so affable toward them, especially considering their 'party' consisted of two alchemists and a former Amestrian soldier. She was confident, however, that Scar's presence and Dr. Marcoh's reputation was what had really saved them when they stumbled into the town late one night…

"Mrs. Curtis?"

Surprised by the voice, she whirled around to see Dr. Marcoh standing in the doorway, eyeing her worriedly. Offering him a smile of reassurance, she said, "I apologize if I woke you, Dr. Marcoh. I was having difficulties sleeping and thought it best to remove myself from the bedrooms."

"Is it happening again," he asked as his eyes slowly wandered down to the blood-caked tissue in her hand.

"It's nothing to worry about," she replied as she wiped the corner of her lip with the napkin. "It acts up occasionally when it's cold."

"You shouldn't even be doing that to begin with," Dr. Marcoh replied as he pulled out one of the table's chairs and sat down in it.

"I know," she mused as she lowered herself into the chair opposite him and rested her hand on her stomach. "But this is the price I paid for committing the taboo."

"If you allow me to heal you, I might be able to—"

Izumi raised her hand and silenced him. "I appreciate the gesture, Doctor. But this is the weight of my sin and I must bear it myself. And besides," she added quietly as she stared down at the reddened tissue, "Now that I know what goes into a Philosopher's Stone, I wouldn't feel right using it on myself."

The doctor grimaced and lowered his eyes. "You're right. I apologize."

Looking back up at him, she offered a small smile and said, "There's nothing for you to apologize about, Dr. Marcoh. Like I said before - this is my burden to bear. So please do not sorry yourself over me. Instead, learn from my mistake so that you do not make the same in the future."

Dr. Marcoh sadly returned her smile and dipped his head.

"So," she continued, segueing into another train of thought, "Have you been able to decipher Scar's brother's notes?"

The doctor frowned and slowly shook his head. "Unfortunately he coded them very well. It's going to take some time to sort out."

"I see," she replied. "I wish I could be of more help. I rarely bookkeep and have few notes myself, and even fewer coded ones."

"It's alright," Marcoh responded. "We'll figure them out eventually."

Izumi nodded. "Especially if we'll be here for an extended period of time."

Dr. Marcoh's brows rose. "You haven't heard anything from Briggs?"

Izumi shook her head. "Our informant hasn't heard from Officer Falman yet."

"I'm sure that means nothing has happened," Marcoh offered.

Izumi attempted a smile. "I hope so. I—" The sound of a loud knock on the kitchen door interrupted Izumi. She shot Dr. Marcoh a perplexed glance to see that he mirrored her confusion before she stole a look at the clock. It was well past midnight. Who could possibly…-

Another abrupt knock drew her attention away from the clock and back to the door. Pushing her chair away from the table, Izumi rose to her feet and wandered over to the door. Grasping its flimsy handle, she cautiously pulled it open and peered outside. When she saw who it was, she pushed it open and said, "It's you. Please, come in."

The young, blonde-haired woman, donning a thick hooded parka and wool scarf, stomped the snow off of her boots on the stone step before stepping into the kitchen. "I'm sorry to have come so late," she muttered as she unwrapped the scarf from around her neck. "But I figured I should tell you now rather than later." Pushing back her hood, the young informant of Madame Christmas said, "I heard from Officer Falman just now. And he gave me some very important intel."


The next morning Edward was aroused from his near restless sleep by a few well-placed knocks on his dorm room's door. Sitting up in his bed, he listened as the door was unlocked and the hatch opened, revealing Major Miles.

The soldier threw him a quick salute and said, "General Armstrong has requested we convene with Generals Raven and Mustang in front of the hole the monster used to gain entrance to the fort in approximately fifteen minutes."

Edward scanned the Major's face, noting silently that he seemed more on edge than he had been previously, as if he were worried about the meeting that was to come. Edward couldn't help but feel his stomach twist uncomfortably in response, wondering what they would possibly want to discuss there.

Knowing that he only had a minute or so to get ready, however, he pushed the thoughts away and nodded.

Understanding Edward's signal, Miles dipped his head before he stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Edward slid off of the bed and padded over to his suitcase, pulling out his black tank top and pants and signature red coat. He continued to push the thoughts back, not allowing himself to become uneasy before the fact. For all he knew, it could just be the presence of the two Generals that was causing Major Miles to act that way, especially now that he knew what Mustang really was…

Once he had finished getting dressed, he jogged over to the door and pushed it open to see that the Major had stationed himself to its side, standing with his back against the wall. When their eyes met, the Major nodded and silently beckoned for Edward to follow, and Edward complied.

The two of them walked in silence as they wove through the first of fort's hallways, steadily making their way down into the belly of the fortress. But after watching the Major's back for a few moments, Edward felt the uneasiness begin to rise in his guy again. And if he was going to get any information in advance, then would be the only time. Just as he opened his mouth to ask, however, the Major interrupted him and said, "It's best that we communicate as little as possible," promptly forcing Edward to clench his jaw shut.

The Major turned another corner and Edward saw the light of the massive boiler room come into view at the other end. Miles quickened his pace, causing Edward to accelerate as well. When they reached the top of the stairs that led down into the area, he looked over the edge and toward the area, seeing that the Generals, Buccaneer, and Falman were already there.

Edward also noticed too that the men that had been working on the fort's abrasion had been removed and segregated into areas around the boilers toward either end of the massive area. So whatever it was, General Armstrong did not want anyone other than them to see or hear what they were discussing.

As they made their way toward the group, Edward immediately felt a set of cold, calculating eyes on him. And, unfortunately, they did not belong to the General he had hoped they would. Willing himself to raise his head, his eyes locked with the obsidian eyes that belonged to 'Mustang.' Swallowing back the apprehensiveness he felt, he slowed and came to a stop beside Miles, watching as General Raven stepped toward General Armstrong.

"So have you considered our proposal," Raven asked eagerly as he rubbed his hands together and looked down at the hole the men had begun to fill, the cement that had spilled onto the edge still wet…

"I have," General Armstrong replied as she too looked down at the cement. Drawing her blade, she grazed the tip over the wet pavement to check its progress before she lifted it and wiped it off with the glove on her hand. "But before that I'm going to give you one last chance to disclose what you really know to me. It's my right to know given this is my domain."

Both 'Mustang' and Raven's brows rose. Taking a step forward, 'Mustang' tried to diffuse her concerns by saying, "I know the concept is a bit complex, General. But you have to believe that it is not a threat to either Fort Briggs or Amestris."

"Oh, I know," she answered. "I'm giving you two the chance to tell me what it really is."

Edward jerked his head up and stared at the back of the General's head, paralyzed for fear of what she would say next. There was no way… She wouldn't betray them… right?

"I thought we disclosed that with you," General Raven replied curiously. "Like we said before, it's a chimera. Nothing but the product of a crossing between an ape and a tunneling rat."

"Wrong," she answered confidently before turning back to 'Mustang.' "And I have the word of your subordinate to fall back on."

Edward's heart stopped when he felt the Homunculus's eyes slide over to him, boring into with a level of intensity he had never felt before that. She was… She was going to betray them!

"I know now that it is not, in fact, a chimera," she announced. "And that it's an artificial human created using alchemy."

For a moment 'Mustang's' eyes left Edward to hone in on General Armstrong. Raven gave her a short and loud laugh. "Don't be ridiculous, General Armstrong. You know that the practice of transmuting an artificial human is strictly against the law."

"It is," she confirmed. "But that didn't stop the military from doing it anyways, right?"

"General Armstrong," 'Mustang' said as he stepped forward and raised his arms slightly, his palms up as a sign of innocence. "Surely you would not think the military would do such a thing."

"That's where you're wrong," she replied in a self-satisfied tone. "In fact, I know that there is not only one of them up here… But two." Then, before any of them could react, she thrust her blade up and drove it through the back of 'Mustang's' hand. "With the second standing right in front of us."


When Alphonse and Winry arrived at Central Command that morning, they were surprised to see that neither Zampano nor Jerso were there to greet them in the Colonel's former office. After they had waited for a while and still saw no signs of the pair, the two of them began to grow anxious, wondering what could have become of their 'babysitters.'

"Maybe they're in the Fuhrer's office," Alphonse suggested as he looked up at the clock, seeing that it was already nine-thirty in the morning.

"Maybe," Winry replied reluctantly as she too looked at the clock.

"We should probably go and check," he offered as he took a step toward the door. "Because the very last thing we need is to be accused of skipping."

"Yeah… Right," she answered unenthusiastically as she followed after him.

Looking over his shoulder at her, he said, "Maybe we'll get there and we'll be given the rest of the day off. Then we can start making that chocolate cake for Mrs. Bradley and Selim," in the hopes he could ease both of their growing concerns.

"Yeah, maybe we could," she answered as she attempted to smile.

Making their way out into the hallway, they began to venture toward the Fuhrer's office. "Oh! And maybe we could make an apple pie for Mrs. Hughes," Alphonse added. "I bet she and Elicia would love that!"

Her smile grew. "We could probably do that too. Maybe drop it off for them after dinner time if we have enough time to make it."

"Yeah," Alphonse replied cheerfully as they stopped outside of the Fuhrer's office and raised his fist and knocked. Pushing it open, he turned his attention to the assistant's desk… only to find that it was empty. "Hello," he called as they stepped into the room. "Is anyone here?"

Winry frowned as her eyes scanned the room. "Maybe the Lieutenant didn't come in today?"

"It's possible," Alphonse supposed as he wandered toward the double doors that led to the office where the Fuhrer would reside. "But let's check to see if they're in here." Raising his fist again, he knocked on the door and paused to listen. But when no one answered, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, with Winry on his heels.

Like the office they had walked out of, the Fuhrer's office was empty as well, looking as though no one had been in it since the previous day. Alphonse scanned the room for any signs that would say otherwise and was about to agree with what the evidence suggested, when something caught his eye. Whirling back around, he saw that the bookcase in the corner had been pushed away from the wall, revealing what appeared to be a hole behind it.

Walking over to it, he shoved it out of the way and discovered that the 'hole' was actually a doorway that immediately led to a series of torch-lined steps. Peering down into it, he saw that it wound around itself as it descended deeper and deeper downward, until the steps altogether vanished into the darkness below. When Winry stopped beside him, the two of them silently stared down into the darkness, both of them at a loss for words.

He remembered when Lieutenant Hawkeye had pointed out that the perimeter that she had mapped out back when they had been beneath Laboratory Three ran just to the edge of the Fuhrer's office, but he had never expected that there would be something physically connecting the two…

He stiffened when he heard a faint sound reach up from the darkness. Leaning forward, Alphonse strained to listen, hoping the sound would replicate itself. And when it did, Winry gasped beside him.

"Did you hear that," she whispered as she covered her mouth with her hand and stared down into the darkness.

Alphonse had heard it alright. The sound of someone crying out for help. While difficult to place completely, he couldn't help but think that it had some familiarity to its tone. A familiarity that he placed with the new Fuhrer-elect, General Grumman. When he took a step toward the staircase, Winry wrapped her arms around his arm and pulled him back.

"You can't go down there, Al," she said. "You don't know who or what that could be."

"But there's a chance that it might be the General," Al contended. "It's possible that he found this and wandered down himself."

"Then we should go get someone," Winry argued.

"No," Alphonse replied as he shook his head. "We can't. Winry, if anyone that isn't supposed to find out about the Homunculi or what the government is doing, then there's no telling what they could do.

"I'll go down by myself," he continued as he turned his sights toward the staircase again. "And I'll just look around for a little bit."

"Then I'm going with you," she said as she took a step forward, keeping her tight grip on his arm.

Again Alphonse shook his head. "It won't be safe for you to go—"

"Then why should you go alone," she countered.

"Because," he began, "No matter what, they need Brother and me for something. And they're making sure we stay alive. Nothing will happen to me down there." Winry's grip on his arm loosened slightly as he continued, "You're safest up here, acting like you don't know what's happening."

He could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew he was right. That this was the only way they could assure the safety of all three of them. So when her grip loosened entirely and her arms dropped to her side, he said, "I promise to be back in thirty minutes. Try to close this behind you and just wait here. If anyone asks what you're doing, just say that you're waiting for Jerso and Zampano, okay?"

"Okay," she replied half-heartedly. But just as he stepped down onto the first step, she said, "Just please… Be careful, Al."

Turning to look back at her, he reassured, "I will, Winry. I promise." Shifting back around, he walked down the remainder of the steps before getting to a landing. Casting her one last glance, he gave her a comforting wave.

She reluctantly returned it, her worried expression never leaving her face as she stepped back and behind the bookcase.

Alphonse realized that she had every right to worry, especially since the last time he had ventured off alone he had returned to her missing his jaw and bits of his armor. But this time, silently told himself as the bookshelf rattled, he would return in one piece.

He watched as it shifted and slowly rolled back over the opening until it closed completely, leaving him alone in the dimly lit stairwell. When he heard her move away from it, he turned back toward the staircase and slowly began to wander down it, and into the catacombs that ran beneath Central Command.


"Hello," Alphonse called again as he rounded another corner in the seemingly endless underground labyrinth beneath Central Command. He paused to listen, growing disheartened that he was not able to elicit another signal from General Grumman. Trying to not feel too frustrated, Alphonse told himself that he would search for five more minutes before he would turn around and navigate his way back to the surface.

The General must have sensed his resolve, because not more than a moment later he called out, "Hello? Is someone there?"

"General Grumman," Alphonse cried as he turned around and headed toward the cry. "I'm here, just hold on—"

He came to an immediate stop when he rounded the corner as a shiver ran straight through his soul. Rather than the old man he had expected to see, he was instead greeted by Winry… And Lust, the latter having one hand clapped over the former's mouth, pressing the back of her head against her shoulder while her other hand was raised to Winry's neck level, the tip of a single elongated spear pressed against his friend's skin.

"So glad you could make it," Lust purred as the corners of her lips curled upward. "I was beginning to think I had made you run in circles for too long."

"How did you—" He stopped when General Grumman's cry cut him off.

Seeing his confusion, Lust sidestepped to reveal an older record player behind her, the vinyl disc on it still slowly rotating around. When it began to make another noise, she nudged the stand it was on, causing it to shake before slipping off and breaking on the uneven cobblestone floor. No doubt seeing his realization, she smirked and said, "Clever, right? And all it required was a voice recorder and a silent phone call to a very confused Grumman's hotel room."

When Alphonse took a step forward, Winry began to struggle against Lust's grip. Irritated by her hostage's sudden attempt at escape, Lust jerked her head back against her shoulder and pressed the talon further into her skin.

"Winry," Alphonse cried.

"I have to admit that I'm impressed by her willingness to follow your instructions, especially considering what had happened the last time you went off on your own," she taunted, calling upon the Lieutenant's memories of his confrontation with the first Lust. "I found her standing guard in the Fuhrer's office."

"Let her go," he cried.

"Not until we have a little chat first."

Alphonse balled his gloves into fists. "I'll talk when you let Winry go," he demanded.

She clicked her tongue and shook her head. "I can't do that. You see, I need all the leverage I can get right now."

"What leverage don't you have," Alphonse cried as he took another step forward. "You've taken everything from us! You've taken the Colonel and Lieutenant. You've split us up. You've kicked us while we're down. We've complied with every demand you've made!"

"And that's precisely why I intend to keep this compliance," she mused as the spear lengthened and dug into Winry's neck, producing a small trickle of blood as it penetrated her skin. "Because like I said, I need leverage.

"So tell me… Where have Dr. Marcoh and Scar gone?"

"What," Alphonse gasped, caught off guard by the question. When she raised a brow, waiting, he answered, "We've already told you. We don't—"

The spear extended slightly, eliciting a muffled cry from Winry as she grabbed Lust's wrist and tried to struggle away from her. The Homunculus narrowed her violet eyes toward him, the corner of her lip twitching upward as his soul-fire eyes flickered with panic. "Wrong answer," she replied. "Now, I'll only ask this once more. And your answer had better be truth."

If Alphonse had a heart, he was confident it would have burst from his chest at that very moment. They had told him that, no matter what, he could not give any indication that he knew the doctor's whereabouts, especially now that he, Scar, and Teacher were about to obtain Scar's brother's notes. Notes that could change the fate of Amestris as they knew it.

But Winry… He couldn't abandon her. She more than anyone else was an innocent bystander in this hellish situation, dragged in because of her devotion to his brother and him. But maybe… Maybe there was a way he could get to her. Keeping his eyes focused on the Homunculus, he mentally retraced his steps, trying to remember their surroundings.

The tunnel was narrow and completely closed in. While he couldn't remember how deep it was in relation to Central Headquarters, he had to keep in mind that disrupting it could lead to collapse. But the ground… Surely that wouldn't collapse on itself? He had to think of something to separate them. Something?!

"You'd better hurry." Drawn out from his mental turmoil, Alphonse looked back up at her. Seeing that she had his attention, she noted, "I can feel her jugular pulsating."

As the trail of blood that oozed from the wound became heavier, Alphonse felt his desperation skyrocket. The silent, desperate plea in Winry's eyes let him know that what the Homunculus said had been true, and now his fears were shifted toward whether or not she had actually penetrated the vessel.

For a moment the uncharacteristic thought of constructing a weapon crossed his mind, similar to what he had done when they had been confronted by the former Lust. But then he did not have the desire to use it, and even now he was reluctant to. Because regardless he was facing down Lust as she was now: housed in the body of Lieutenant Hawkeye. Despite the fact that it was the Homunculus he was talking to, his reluctance was stemming from the fact that she still had the same face as their friend. Still had traces of her character etched into her expression. And through it all, no matter what he tried to make himself believe, Alphonse could not shake the infinitesimal feeling that he would be attacking Lieutenant Hawkeye.

He decided at that very moment that they would instead escape. That they'd run until their legs could no longer carry them, until Winry's breaths could no longer maintain their pace. They would run to Rush Valley and Resembool and warn everyone if that was what it took. He silently apologized to his brother for not being able to hold out until he returned. But he would understand, right? Alphonse had been driven into a corner…

Holding firm with his resolve to flee with Winry, Alphonse raised his hands up to chest level and brought them together with a thunderous clap.


She knew the moment he had tried to contend with her that he would opt for the less violent route. Typical Alphonse Elric. Always the gentler of the two brothers. And in this case she assumed that it was his fear of harming the Lieutenant that factored into his decision. Still, his lack of producing a spear or weapon was hardly an issue, though it was slightly less appealing knowing that history had not, for once, repeated itself.

It was amusing watching both the boy's internal struggle and feeling the Lieutenant's, the latter frantically clawing against Lust's grasp in order to get to the surface. But even as the Lieutenant's cries and pleas for her to stop filled her mind, Lust still held firm and unwavering to her decision. Because one way or another, she would get what she needed… Even if it wasn't from him.

The Lieutenant lunged again, her desperation seeping into Lust's mouth and eyes in the form of rich iron and broken blood vessels. Shoving her host back, she watched as Alphonse finalized his decision.

In the end, he had elected to run.

By the time Alphonse's hands clapped together Lust's hand was already off of Winry's neck, spears extended and lethal. Using one calculated swing, she tore through the metal armor as if it had been made of butter. The movement had been so abrupt, so fast, that the boy's soul-fire eyes reflected his realization moments later, burning brighter than they ever had, before they dimmed and vanished as his armor body fractured and shattered.