Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is not mine. I'm just using it to end the world.

Chapter 22: Reactants

Mustang's eye was fixed on wall in front of him. It had been fixed on one spot for the past hour or so. If the circumstances had been different, he would have gotten bored a long time ago. As it was, he was kept from that by the constant struggle not to look sideways.

He did not want to see Ed's face.

The younger man had not said a word since they have been dumped back in the cell. He had said nothing at all since Chambers had delivered his ultimatum. Mustang could only imagine what was going through Fullmetal's head. He was having a bad enough time thinking about it without being the one who had to decide...well, the fate of the universe seemed about the right description.

He tried to imagine what it would mean for everything to collapse into nothing. It was impossible. How could you even begin to grasp something of that magnitude? The only thing that came to mind was the unreasoning, unfathomable fear that he would never see anyone he knew every again, never be able to say or do all the things he had always meant or wanted to. That and the faces of all those who would be waiting for him if he ended up in one of the afterlives he did not believe in.

Thrusting that aside, he tried to work out how they were going to escape.

And immediately wished that he had a more optimistic nature.

Chambers did not turn around when the Marquis came in. He was too busy speaking quietly and precisely to the huddled figure in the wheelchair. His face, turned side on to the door, was no more alive with excitement and impatience than usual. In fact, the signs of a man who was hastening an attack on the gates of heaven were noticeable only by their absence.

"Mr Chambers: might I have a moment of your precious time?"
The question was at first ignored in favour of a pause to allow the Patient to give a nod and a mewl.
"Good, Edward, good," Chambers told him, "Now. Show me."
A raw hand extended, landing palm down on the tabletop. There was the barest, briefest flash of light and a perfectly spherical cloud of dust rose into the air. It quickly dissipated but Edward seemed incredibly pleased with himself.
"Very good," Chambers said, although there was nothing in his voice to indicate the slightest degree of pleasure.

The drab man finally deigned to pay attention to the Marquis. Empty, searching golden eyes followed him as he straightened and approached the mercenary.
"I take it you have some complaint about the sudden acceleration of our work."
"Very perceptive of you. Why?"
"If you mean, why the acceleration, it is quite simple. The forces that oppose us have gained unexpected assistance. They may be able to breach the defences that have so far prevented their direct interference."
"I see." L'enfer's tone was neutral. "And what happens if they succeed?"
Chambers looked at him levelly.
"You recall the incident at the hospital?"
"Ah."
"Precisely. I was barely able to contain a single entity. More would be...inconvenient. Hence the need to advance faster than I originally intended."

The Marquis accepted the answer. His memory had jumped back to a dim room and something horribly bright pressing down on the insides of his mind. He shook himself out of the stupor quickly.
"Very well. I shall make sure everything is prepared. Do you want Elric moved to the inner room?"
"Not yet." Chambers half-turned back to Edward. "An hour. He will need his false arm back first. Don't bother with the leg. Make sure Lazarus has put it back together precisely as he found it. I don't want to be delayed by a mechanical failure."
"I'll see to that at once."
"Good. Oh." He hesitated once more before going back to his charge. "Please check the trap tunnels."
L'enfer frowned.
"None of the alarms have gone off."
"I am aware of that. Please check anyway."

Al rattled the bars, or tried to. They were solid, running floor to ceiling, completely blocking the way. He glared at them for about fifteen seconds and then kicked them, hard. All that achieved was an ache in his toes.
"Damn."
Noah, who had been checking the bars on the other side of the tunnel, came over and laid a hand on his arm.
"There's no way through," she said, matter-of-factly, "We should go back and carry on the way we were going."
Not really listening, Al attempted to wedge his staff between and across the barrier, trying to get purchase so that he might be able to force the bars from their settings. Noah's grip tightened.
"You'll break your staff."

He knew she was right but...damnit! This was progress at last. You didn't block off a tunnel that didn't lead anywhere. This was a way in, a chance to get somewhere, a step closer to Ed and...and they couldn't damn take it! He kicked out again, frustration warping his normally calm face into something almost like rage.
"Al!"
A cool, tingling sensation spread from Noah's touch, shooting up his arm and into his spine. He jerked away as she let go, just as shocked as he was.
"I'm sorry!" she blurted, "I didn't mean to -"
"What was that?"
The question was not angry, simply astonished.

The psychic blushed furiously.
"I don't know. It's happened before...when I've been reading people...suddenly everything becomes much clearer...and they react like I'm burning them..."
"It didn't. It was...cold. W-why doesn't...?"
"I think it's me. That I'm pressing too hard or...forcing my way in, not just skimming over the top."
Regaining some measure of composure, Al pushed fingers through his hair.
"O...kay. That...I suppose that makes sense."
"I'm sorry," she repeated, then steadied herself, "We should go back."
"Yeah...I know...it's just..."
"So close."
"Yeah."
He looked down at his feet, at the dust on the tunnel floor.

And frowned.
"What the...?"
Dropping to a crouch, he rubbed away at that dust, clearing an already holey patch, revealing a thin metal line, laid into the stone.
"Another rail?" Noah asked.
"Looks like it." Inspiration dawned, throwing aside the scowl. "Come on!"
Practically at a run, he raced off, back up the side passage. She caught up with him at the junction, not sure how he'd managed to avoid running straight into the tunnel wall. As soon as she brought the lantern into range, he was down on his knees, frantically brushing at the floor.
"Look!" he called excitedly.
She looked.

The rail from the side tunnel crossed the main tunnel until it reached the line running along the centre. They met at a point encircled by a ring of slightly paler metal, which was itself surrounded by odd little symbols, painstakingly chiselled into the flagstones. Symbols she recognised from the thoughts of the boy who was even now tracing them with a fingertip.
"That's..."
"Alchemy," he completed, "It's part of an array. These metal lines...they're all part of an array. It's..."
He broke off, leaping upright, glancing back and forth. Noah held the lamp up, letting the light shine on the gaping arches. She tilted her head back.
"The pipes."
Al looked up too, spotting the way they were joined, from side tunnel to main, a circlet of copper welded around the connection.

"These tunnels..." Noah began, hardly daring to speak words borrowed from someone else.
She did not have to finish the sentence. Al did it for her.
"These tunnels are an array."

A sigh of satisfaction accompanied the smooth motion of the mechanical fingers, Lazarus' flesh and blood digits moving them this way and that.
"I just have to reattach the outer casing..." he informed Solomon, "...and then it should be ready."
"Good."
The taciturn soldier was standing by the workroom door, unwilling to penetrate further into the sterile place. He checked his watch.
"Should the boy be brought here?"
"It would be best...I am not entirely certain how the attachment process works. I should like my equipment to hand."

Solomon grunted and made to leave.
"Sir...?" Lazarus called.
The bigger Templar halted. The doctor's eyes were eager.
"The leg...if we are not to attach it...would it be acceptable for me to continue dismantling it?"
He got a shrug for an answer.
"I haven't been told you can't. Be my guest."
Lazarus shot him a short, tight smile of pure glee.
"Oh...excellent."

The weight of the wheelchair was a comfort in Helen's hands, a solid, familiar point in a world gone mad. She just wished she could be pushing it in the opposite direction and as fast as possible. The longing to get away from the madhouse - and more importantly, to get Edward away from it - was growing to be unbearable. Especially since there was nothing she could do about it.

"This way, Jameson, quick as you like."
Dr Grave's words were still slurring slightly. A burning resentment towards the man who had brought them all here kept her from feeling any sympathy for his condition. If he couldn't bear the strain of the place without turning to drink, he should have never have come. None of them should. Anna, at his side, huffed. He did not notice. Helen doubted he noticed very much of what was going on. He was just following the black-coated figure leading the way deeper into the building.

They slowed to manoeuvre the chair down a flight of steps. Edward watched them all silently, attentively following their progress. Sometimes his neck would twist like an owl's with the effort of keeping someone in view. He seemed fascinated by everything that changed around him, determined not to miss a second of it all. The procession passed into a whitewashed passageway and then into a square anteroom of some kind. At the far end stood a heavy wooden door.

The Templar saw them inside then hammered on that door. After a few minutes, it swung open, revealing the uninteresting form of Mr Chambers. His dull gaze settled on Edward.
"Ah, good. We will have to leave the wheelchair here. Please carry him inside."
Obediently, the Marquis' man came over and scooped the Patient out of it as though he weighed nothing at all. Edward's face split in a grin at the sudden elevation.

Helen looked from him to the grey spectre in the doorway and shook.

The bunk was not meant to be comfortable. After so long lying flat on his back on top of it, his body was protesting very loudly indeed. He was ignoring it, not so much from stubbornness as a complete disinterest in anything connected to his body. His attention was elsewhere, in futures that could be, in possibilities that were looming ahead, horrendously possible.

Al...

That thought hung over the rest, a guillotine ready to fall at any moment. It was the one thing Chambers could hold against him and be absolutely certain that it would work. The knowledge that even if he did not do what the man wanted, his brother would. Not that being able to destroy everything was an insignificant advantage. It just paled in comparison.

He knew that Chambers meant every word he had said. The idea of helping him and that...thing made him sick in the stomach, but there was no way around it. Ed was going to have to do what he was told. He was going to have to help a lunatic break down the laws of existence and build them up again in a different order.

Because that was the only way he was going to get close enough to fight back.

He had not told the Bastard Colonel what he was planning. There was no way to do that without alerting the people who were no doubt listening in on them. Besides, he did not want to get the man involved. The wounds the Marquis had inflicted were still harsh against his otherwise feverishly pale skin. He was in no fit state to help Ed take on an army.

Not that he intended to. Chambers would have to give him his arm back before he could do anything. Strictly speaking he did not need it to do alchemy but Gate alchemy? That was another matter. That would require a kind of fine control he would never manage through the cumbersome, unpractised methods otherwise available. Chambers knew that. He had no choice but to return the auto-mail. And when he did...

Ed had been caught in surprisingly few alchemic backlashes given how frequently he attempted untested reactions. Something to do with the knowledge the Gate had granted, he assumed. But he sure as hell knew how to make those sorts of reactions fail. Granted, deliberately doing so while you were directly involved in the process was a flashy way of committing suicide. But that was a small price to pay to ensure that the threat to Al, the world, everything, was ended for good. And it's not as if I haven't been down this road before, he thought bitterly, You'd have thought trying it once would have been enough.

When they came to take him away, he did not even offer a token resistance.

A/N: And so things begin to happen! I intend to have the next chapter done within the week - would have it done sooner but have to go down to London for a bit...stay tuned!