For all his years of experience, his studying and his training, his leadership and his dedication, there was nothing quite like fighting a construct made of human souls.
Alphonse slid behind a pillar and leaned his head back against the marble as he sucked in air. He knew that there was no point trying to wear her out, and it was to his detriment as well. He already had several cuts across his back and his left arm where she'd grazed him with those razor fingers of hers. Running around had obfuscated his plan, for sure, but he was a defensive fighter, not the speedster his brother was. Swallowing hard, he listened for the telltale snick snick of Lust's boots against the floor. He tried to ignore the stinging in his arm and back as blood slowly seeped into his shirt.
A pair of razor-sharp fingers sliced through the pillar, and Alphonse dove to the side, sliding across the expensive parquet floor. He clapped his hands and raised a tall barrier circling the large room, Lust easily slicing through most of it as he ran along the barrier's length. He tried not to curse under his breath as a very small strand of hair wafted to the floor behind him. That was closer than he would've liked... He skidded to a stop nearest another pillar, lying flat on the ground.
"Give up, Elric! Save yourself the disgrace of being pinned to a wall!" Lust shouted.
"I get the feeling you'd pin me up even if I surrendered," Alphonse muttered to himself as he lay down in the shadow of his barrier, which was now only about two feet high, rather than the seven it had been moments before. He could tell she didn't know exactly where he was hiding, but that wouldn't last for long. Even in her "weakened" state, she was still a cunning woman, plenty capable in battle against a merely human foe. It was a good thing that Alphonse was considered a bit more than merely human.
And Lust was aware of that fact. Her red eyes scanned the room, wondering where the alchemist had gone. The room was in shambles, tables flipped over and chairs thrown against walls. The floor was a wreck, and Lust knew she'd have to hire somebody to come clean it up later. She retracted her claws and brushed back a lock of hair from her face with a frustrated sigh. She took no enjoyment out of this little escapade. In fact, it was a bit embarrassing. The only reason she hadn't called in her personal guard was because it would be awfully demeaning to let puny humans kill the great Alphonse Elric, especially if Lust hadn't taken a crack at him first.
She cut through the barrier he'd created once more, parsing it down another foot. Still no soft resistance of blade meeting flesh. Where was he hiding...?
Footsteps clacked above her head, and she frowned. Her eyes widened as she looked up to the ceiling, seconds before a rain of spikes suddenly fell from the ceiling, pinning her to the floor. She screamed with rage as agony raced through her limbs, both hands pinned beside her head. She could barely look up to see her captor, given the spike shoved in her neck. She looked through her curtain of hair, searching for her enemy.
To her surprise, she felt the spike in her left leg vibrate with footsteps, and she managed to turn her head enough to see Alphonse walking down the spike as if going for a stroll. She struggled, but to no avail - the spikes were nearly a foot thick at their widest. She had the feeling they were bonded to the floor underneath her as well, to add insult to injury.
Alphonse finally stepped into her field of vision, and she spit at his feet. He ignored it and knelt in front of her, and she tried to flex her fingers toward him. With painful closeness, she knicked the edge of his shoe, and he carefully sidestepped the blade. She looked into his face, only to find a strange kind of pity, and glowered. She bared her teeth and flailed angrily within her bonds.
"If you mean to kill me, do it quickly. Don't give me that look. I won't be pitied by one of you filthy creatures," she spat when she'd finally tired herself out.
"That's not what I'm here for, Lust," Alphonse stated softly.
She stopped a moment, floored.
"Are you kidding me?" she asked with a deadpan expression. "What was this, some kind of show for your little terrorist cell? To assert your dominance? How pathetic."
"Please, just... listen to what I have to say," Al sighed, hands up with palms out. "Nothing up my sleeve."
"I'll believe that when I'm not stuck to the floor," Lust growled.
"You know as well as I do that you're not going to be around much longer," Alphonse continued, pressing forward despite his audience's obvious belligerence. He watched her face closely as she glared, eyes filled with deep-set hate. He took another deep breath and continued.
"Father's not going to need you here soon. And what Father can't make use of, he throws away," Alphonse gently reasoned. "You may not remember, but I do. He absorbed Greed at one point, for his disobedience."
"Greed was an incompetent rebel, back then. I'm hardly a loose cannon," Lust parried, chuckling. "You think you're going to turn me to your cause with pretty words?"
"We can keep you safe."
She shuddered, pain lancing through her limbs. Lust hung her head, trying to ignore the words worming into her ears.
"Do you know what it's like to be absorbed? All of what makes you you suddenly engulfed by another being's intent? I do. It isn't pleasant," Al said.
"Silence!"
"You know that it's the truth."
"Father has plenty need of me. Not least, to rid the earth of you scum. You humans always think you know best, unaware that it is so easy to get inside of your head and fill it with whatever we want," Lust choked out. She struggled against the spikes that kept her prone, but she still found herself firmly trapped. Where were her guards?! "You can't use that trick on me. I know it well."
"Lust..."
"What makes you think I'd just turn my back - ?"
"You grow weaker by the day. He's put you in the least crime-ridden part of the city and cut you off from the power source the other homunculi enjoy. We know he hasn't called on you for a single assignment in over fifteen years. You've been amassing an armed guard and approached several underworld bosses clandestinely. You've sunk to giving fete's and galas, just to remind yourself that you're somewhat important to someone out there. Don't you think that means something?"
The words echoed in her head like the first peals of a funeral bell. The nagging suspicions she'd harbored were beginning to come to light. Her own half-formed machinations of using humans as her own shield, her insurance, were blatant evidence of the danger she was now aware of. What use was a spy when the battles were all won? What good was a manipulator when all cards had been laid on the table?
She sagged to the ground, unwilling to fight.
"How can you protect me? Father would kill me for even speaking with you," she groaned. The fact that she couldn't destroy this single, insignificant human was more than enough evidence of her ineptitude and worthlessness. She didn't have the clout that Envy or Pride had. At one point in time, she had been the most formidable homunculus in the city. But now?
"Glad you asked," Alphonse said with a hint of a smile. "I hope you have lots and lots of books you like to read."
Ed was surprised by the massive labyrinth underneath the city's foundations. There were doors and doors and doors, but it seemed like no one was in any of the rooms. He'd peeked through the doors that didn't have locks, and most of them hosted file cabinets and other boring things. He'd expected something a bit more... condemning. With a frustrated sigh, he continued walking down the corridor, but he was fast losing hope of ever finding anything worth taking back-
A large window opened up beside him, and he did a double-take, his eyes growing larger the more he looked on.
"Whoa."
A warehouse big enough to house a small army base fell away beneath the window sill, the open floor-space crawling with workers in white suits. Trucks the size of toys journeyed across the floor, which was marked up by bright yellow and white paint into blocks, designated with numbers and codes. However, the most impressive piece within the facility was the giant rocket that sat upright in the middle of the near-infinite space. It had to be at the very least four hundred feet tall, all white and red markings with Patron's insignia on the side. Figures in crinkly suits were carefully loading things into it with cranes, bits and pieces of machinery and, oddly enough, flat pieces of metal that were nearly as wide as the rocket itself.
Realizing he'd stayed in one place for far too long, Ed casually began to stroll back the way he came as footsteps echoed somewhere within the maze of corridors. Ed turned over the information in his mind, trying to figure out what in the world a rocket was doing nearly half-a-mile underground, and more importantly, what it could possibly be used for. Why would Father leave something so important behind an easily unlocked door...?
Perhaps Father had gotten cocky. It had happened before, and it could happen again. Sometimes the old fart thought he was too smart for his own good.
Ed reentered the library, aware that his espionage would easily be apparent the minute someone took a look at the lock on the door. He had to get out of here, and get out fast. He pulled a few books off the shelves to make himself look busy, and he whistled loudly.
"Nirvana! You think we found what we need?" Ed shouted. It felt so odd, being loud in a place where the enemy was so obviously near. However, Ed was not one for subtlety, and he wasn't about to have his head removed from his shoulders because he wanted to be stealthy when stealth would do no good.
Nirvana ran through the aisles towards him, arms loaded up with books.
"Yeah, I'm finished here. He, uh, he helped me pick some of these out," Nirvana said quietly, her eyes quickly darting towards the stacks of books around them. Father leaned out from behind one of them and waved. Ed made a face as Nirvana nervously waved back.
"Well... double-check. We need out, fast," Ed growled as he took a look at the books in his hands. Some were just random alchemy texts over things he had never heard about, some weren't even in Amestrian, and one was oddly promising, detailing the art of cooking with alchemy...
"Don't worry, I already did that, bolts-for-brains," Nirvana murmured.
"Oh, are you leaving?" Father said as he began to walk towards them. He smiled at the two, and the alchemists stared at him with blank expressions.
"You have stairs or an elevator?" Nirvana ventured. Father gestured for them to follow him, and the teenagers warily trailed behind the age-old sage. They exchanged glances as they wove between stacks, aware that it was very possible that Father could finish them off just as they reach the door, just out of spite alone.
However, it seemed Father was going to keep his word. He stood before a door cut into the stone of the Den, and he waved a hand in front of it. The door slid open to reveal a gleaming, stainless steel elevator. It was strange to see such a modern piece of equipment in such an obviously ancient room, but the amenity was a relief to the two teenagers and their overworked legs and arms. Nirvana stepped in first and Ed second. As they faced Father, they fidgeted and waited for the doors to close.
"I trust you found everything to your liking. Just press the '1' on the side of the elevator, and it will take you back to the library's atrium. Be sure to take what I said to heart. Stay skeptical, my friends," Father said with an almost warm smile.
With that, the doors closed on Father's smiling face, and it began the ascent upwards. After several seconds, Ed and Nirvana finally collapsed against the sides of the elevator in relief as they realized that their mission was over.
"You think he's really going to let us out alive?" Ed whispered, looking up towards the ceiling of the elevator. By now, they'd been inside the swiftly moving metal box for nearly a minute. Numbers swiftly changed on a screen above the doors.
"I... I don't know. I think so," Nirvana said back in a low voice. She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed before gathering their things and stuffing them into her bag. Ed did the same, and the two anxiously waited for the elevator to come to a stop.
Finally, the number above the door read '1'. Gently, they stopped with a cushion of air, and the two stood rigid before the door. It opened to the main atrium, and the two alchemists walked out with tentative steps, every nerve attuned to their surroundings. Hematite sat at the front desk, eyes glued to the screen, and they rushed past the man without so much as a backwards glance.
Within five minutes, they had hailed a cab and were speeding back to their rendezvous point.
Clottichilde surveyed the grounds before her from her perch on the guard wall. Her eyes roamed the beautiful landscape of burnished metal, unnerved by how empty it was. Alphonse should have created a distraction, and Greed's team had kept the security busy. Alphonse would be here soon. This was the hardest part - getting him escorted out of the building without anyone noticing.
Because behind her, over the garden wall, the press was clammering at the doors like demons breaking out of hell. Cameras flashed, drones buzzed overhead, and voices yelled as they tried to get some sort of answer out of Lust's PR people. They were just as bewildered as any about what was going on in the building. It seemed all had gone to plan - the building was locked down from the outside, and no one had gotten word from whoever was within.
Clottie drew her chameleon-cloak closer to her skin, hoping that it would hide her from the prying eyes of the hordes of newscasters down below. She probably shouldn't have bothered - they were too intent on the gated tower before them. She dropped down onto the grounds silently, limping her way towards the building. She moved much slower now than she had before due to her wounds, and her mind still churned over the loss of so many teammates. The survivors had already made it to the subway and would be taking it back towards Greed's district of the city.
She had to stay positive. If she lost her nerve, she could falter. Last time, she'd lost nearly a whole year of her life to a man who'd stuffed her in a robot body for kicks.
The young infiltrator found the service door she was looking for, marked previously by another member of their entourage. It shone under a tiny, blue light in her hand, and it disappeared as soon as she shut the light off. She opened the door and walked in, following the hallways just as she'd been instructed in the briefing beforehand. Finally, after going through the kitchens, she found the door to the grand ballroom - and destruction.
The room was a wreck. Tables and chairs had been thrown in every direction, and the ground was littered with spikes, massive walls, and chunks of masonry. The ceiling was likewise full of spikes and the like. Clottie could only sense two people in the ballroom, one with a heartbeat and another without. She hid behind a pillar and checked her handheld communication's device.
Everything was in place for their getaway. A vehicle was waiting on the hoverdeck about a hundred stories above them, and security was somehow down, perhaps due to Greed's influence. To be honest, everything was going to plan, and Alphonse wouldn't need much more help, regardless of whether Lust took him up on his proposition or not. Alphonse hadn't even requested her backup, but she would give it anyways. It wouldn't do to have their supreme leader die on them because he was too proud to ask for help, or modest to risk anyone else's life.
Clottie peeked around the corner as there was a flash of light, and one presence suddenly disappeared. She stepped out when she was absolutely sure it was safe. Al stood in front of a mass of spikes dripping from the ceiling with a flat disk in his hand. He looked up and smiled sheepishly, rumpled in his dinner suit.
"Sorry about borrowing this without asking. I figured you wouldn't mind," Al said, holding up the disk. Clottie blinked as she realized he had taken the pocket dimension her mother had given her.
"All I own is yours, High Ar- sir," Clottie said, quickly correcting herself and bowing at the waist. Al walked past her and motioned for her to follow, and she did so.
As they walked out towards an elevator, Alphonse asked, "What's the status report so far?"
Clottie swallowed, suddenly nervous. How could she explain the debacle that had happened? She felt she was responsible, after all. Still, she steeled herself and stated, "I have only confirmed that three of the ten from my group survived. Zhang Mei and Hadrian Davidson are still alive and have gone back to the rendezvous. We disrupted the circle, and unless Lust gave orders to have it repaired, it shouldn't be operational."
"I see... We will have time to mourn later," Alphonse said as he stopped and called an elevator.
A lull fell between them as they waited for the elevator, as if finally they had the time to take a deep breath and think. It had been nothing but touch-and-go for the past eight hours. Both were exhausted and it showed.
"You're injured," Al suddenly said, his brow furrowing with concern as he gestured to Clottie's wounded side. Blood had splattered down her leg and on her clothes, but a good amount of the blood splashed across her body was not hers.
"It looks worse than it is. I'll live," she said tersely, looking straight ahead. She drew the chameleon-cloak around her in an effort to hide her disturbed expression. If only Alice could have received this wound instead, and she the fatal one... Her heart contracted within her chest, and she almost wished she had a syringe full of shock to take the bite from her grief. But she knew better than to fall into that pit.
The silence stretched as the elevator crawled down, and finally Alphonse said, "I don't know what happened down there... but we need to talk about it when we get back."
Clottie shot a fearful glance in Al's direction. Her lips pressed together firmly at the contemplative look on the young man's face, and she tried not to fear the worse. She failed.
Finally, they stepped into the elevator and rode up to the hoverpad. Within a few minutes, they would be on their way home, and their mission would be over. It gave Clottie little solace to know that what they'd done was something to be marked down in history books. All she could think of were the lives lost, the blood on her hands both literally and figuratively. She had killed, and killed justly in her mind, while she and her mother had been on their own, carting Alphonse along with them in his vessel. When her mother had died, she and Nirvana had been the child-killers, teenagers hired to enact hits for easy cash. This, however... this was different.
A young girl had no place carrying the world on her shoulders. Or dying under its weight, for that matter.
Finally, they got out of the elevator, where Greed was waiting with a slim-looking rotor-copter sitting on the pad, painted black and red. He grinned at the two, and said, "Considering you're not missing any limbs, I'll guess she bought your offer."
"She's not an easy woman to convince," Al sighed with a smile as he patted his shirt pocket. Clottie gave Greed a quick, respectful nod before climbing in after her leader, and Greed looked back to the tower that loomed above them.
"Well, I'll be," Greed said as he cracked his fingers and stepped into the vehicle, ready to head home.
Father pulled out another tome, flipping through it almost aimlessly. It had been oddly... nice, having company after so long. And right when things were running along so smoothly as well. While Father did not mind his plans running along unhindered, he had to admit that he had grown bored the last hundred years or so. The world was a different place now, so much more complex, and yet people were still the same. It was so easy to predict their squabbles and allegiances, their every last move. His goal was so close to being complete. It wouldn't be long now.
It almost made him sad that he would no longer get to play this game. Almost.
"Father."
The voice was quiet and from the back of the library, almost a breathy whisper. Father didn't look up, merely tracing the lines he was reading with his finger.
"Yes, Pride."
"It seems someone's been snooping around down on your sublevel. The door towards the hangar has a broken lock. Security was lax and didn't notice until a few minutes ago. Should we go find your visitors and have them pay damages?" The voice was almost giddy at the prospect of doing something more than skulking in shadows, and Father contemplated it. Instead, the youth smiled.
"No, I don't believe we will. I doubt young Elric understood what he saw, and even if he had, our plans are near fruition. Oasis is in no shape to combat me directly."
"Then they will resume their war in the Underground."
"Let them. Death is our friend here."
"I am no longer so sure. Lust has been-."
"Yes, yes, I am well aware. She knows her time draws near to rejoin with me and become one. She is weak and doesn't understand the honor this entails. She will come to us, in time."
"That was not what I meant to say. From what security has gathered... she has been killed."
Father's eyes flashed in the light of the lantern at his side, and he lifted his head from the book he'd been reading. The walls of his library were covered with hundreds and hundreds of eyes, and Father glanced at each one carefully.
"And who killed her?"
"We are not certain. My influence doesn't reach that far. The news stations believe that a small faction of Splinter may have somehow infiltrated her tower and destroyed part of the circle within her portion of the city."
Father sat back in his chair, fingers together as he contemplated this new development. Well, well, well indeed. So perhaps Edward Elric had been here for more than just searching for answers he did not truly wish to know. Father had grown complacent here in his small cavern beneath the heart of his city. Still, it was where he worked best.
"Wait... we have received a video. It is airing on some of the public channels."
Father stood up and walked towards the elevator that led out of his sanctuary and stepped inside. He would have to see this for himself, it seemed. Watching television like a mere mortal - it was almost sad. He smirked at the idea. Finally, it drew to a stop at his personal quarters. While he needed no sleep, no drink, no food or treat, he did not mind having a personal space in which to watch his world. Here, in his own rooms hewn from the bedrock of Patron City, he could watch his fiefdom scrabble in the dirt. He smiled to himself as he sat down in the lone chair and let the screen on the wall show him what Pride had only alluded to.
A hooded figure stood in front of a white screen, his face in shadow. His words were clear and sharp, not distorted or bent. Father's smile slowly turned to a frown as he leaned forward.
"Hello, Patron City. As I am sure you are aware, things have been turbulent lately. The messages have been on all of the walls, waiting to be read. You all understand that the time draws near, even now, for Patron City to reveal its true nature. You already know that the homunculi rule the city and its crime bosses, its underground networks, and its clandestine group of politicians and legislators. I am here to tell you that it need not stay that way. Do not let fear overrule you.
Tonight, a pillar of Patron's world has crumbled. Lust, the homunculi who ruled the Eyrie sector of the city, is dead. These homunculi are not invincible. They can be brought down by human hands. You can once more rule your own lives, take up your own causes, and live as you know you should as free men and women. It is only in desperate times are heroes forged."
The figure slowly drew back the hood.
"As for me, I serve Mankind. Whatever he chooses to do," Alphonse Elric stated.
The transmission cut off, and Father's jaw clenched. The old foe had reared his head. He had known that Alphonse Elric was alive, but he hadn't been aware that he was already so active. One would think that after a nearly one hundred and fifty year hiatus, the man would take a break, but of course, that was too much to ask for. If Alphonse was on the warpath, only trouble could follow. It didn't help that Hohenheim was also still alive and well - and, if his sources were right, within the Oasis base. He'd let the fool live out of misplaced sentimentality and the fact he'd not made trouble for him, besides help the homeless and other, small nuisances.
Father was going to have to tread lightly and with a rather big stick. Alphonse was not a person to fool with.
"Pride?"
"Yes, Father."
"I have something for you to do."
"Your wish, my command."
The hangar was mostly empty. A few fancy vehicles sat in vehicle cradles or on daises to be viewed with wonder. The industrial concrete made the area feel cold and streamlined, as if the very building could go at the speed of sound. Greed made sure the very best engineers had built the hangar, and he'd filled it with every toy a person could want. This rotor-copter, however, was nondescript and perfect for something as stealthy as airlifting out of a visible area - in front of news cameras, no less! It was impossible to trace, nigh indestructible, and was bought with cash. His aide had made sure that he got the right tool for the job, and he had not disappointed them.
Alphonse waited outside the black, sleek craft, his eyes glued towards the door. Any minute now, the rest of his team would walk through. Zhang had already come through the underground hangar and escorted Hadrian, the last survivor of his team, towards the Infirmary. The emissary's questioning look had pierced through Alphonse, but he had said nothing to the young Xingese man. He would have to tell him some time, but it would be at a time of Al's choosing, when they were in private. He himself had not yet processed the information.
Beside him, Clottie was also lost in her thoughts, reviewing the mission and how things had gone wrong. Al could see the tension in her shoulders and the guilt on her face. Something about the mission had shaken her up, more than just simple failure or oversight. There was no telling what she'd seen.
For the moment they were alone. Perhaps now was the time to learn.
"Something happened," Al said quietly. He turned to her and saw her head bowed, hidden beneath the cowl of her cloak. She held herself, as if she were trying hard to keep something close to her chest. He knew she didn't want to talk, and he didn't want to push his authority, but he would if he had to. Finally, she leaned her head back against the hull of the copter behind them, and her eyes were full of tears.
"I have... killed many in my time. I've slaughtered men with these hands, but they were men who I thought deserved death. I... I've never seen an innocent person die," she finally said, her voice hardly a whisper. She put a hand over her mouth as she thought on her next words, and Al's heart grew heavy. This was the burden of those who fought this war, and this poor girl had been born into it. He'd done this to her, if indirectly.
She steeled herself and recounted, "We... were attacked. Someone must have made a mistake on the rounds schedule. I'm not sure. It was very quick. Tourmaline and I took watch on the east end, the two chimera to the west. Alice worked on the security console. Things went wrong when the guards came around, and it ended up a firefight. I tried to tell Tourmaline we should fall back, but she was... gone. I didn't notice they'd gunned her down."
The Xingese woman took a shuddering breath and let it out slowly, closing her eyes. She kept them closed as she continued her account of events.
"The chimera didn't come back. I knew they were gone- their qi was gone. Alice and I were the only ones left, so I went to her, but I was shot in the process. By then, the charges had been placed, and there was no more time. I dragged her behind me and...and she must have been hit from behind. By the time we were in the service corridor, she'd already lost too much blood," Clottie said, her voice thick with tears. "I couldn't do anything for her, but she didn't know. She just knew she was bleeding."
A pause, as she fought for words.
"...so I lied. I told her I could fix it. I hope the ancestors can forgive me for that. I had to leave her body behind."
Clottie shook her head, her lips pressed together firmly. As she'd spoken, Alphonse had found himself pacing, feeling the death hit him fresh in the gut yet again. There was that anger, the snarling dragon that threatened to overwhelm him. He'd danced to its tune a long while ago, and he knew the cost of such rage, yet it still beckoned him. If he didn't accept the anger, he would fall to grief instead, and for some reason, that felt like a kind of defeat. Perhaps, if he grieved, it meant they had won and wounded him.
"Sir, it was my fault. I-I should have done something more, anything more, and I accept full responsibility for it. She shouldn't have died, there had to have been something that could have been done," Clottie suddenly blurted, spitting the words out at a machine-gun's rattle. Al stared at her, and it dawned on him the guilt this girl must feel. She was so young, hardly a child, and yet she was the lone survivor of a five-strong team. One of her comrades had died in her arms, something no person should experience.
He was thrown back two hundred and some odd years to holding his brother's mangled body in his arms, unable to even feel his warmth as Ed bled out in Pinako's foyer. The guilt he'd felt then was almost insurmountable, and he knew Ed had felt likewise for Al's own condition at the time. Alphonse couldn't imagine what would've happened had Ed died on him that night.
So, he did what he thought best. He sat Clottie down on the front step of the rotor-copter behind her, knelt down to seriously look her in the eye, and said, "Clottie. This was not your fault. What more could you have done? It won't do you any good to chew it over and make yourself sick on it. What's happened is over and done with, and the most we can do is just... go on."
The grief welled up, and Al found himself tearing up. He smiled nevertheless and continued, "We go on. We don't stop. Take it from someone who knows."
Clottie, who was also fighting tears, nodded uncertainly.
"I... I'm so-" she started again, hanging her head, when a loud bang echoed in the hangar. Al and Clottie looked up as if a shot had rung out, but it was only the hangar door clanging against the concrete at the other end. In the door way, Ed and Nirvana stepped through, obviously in good shape given their mission. The minute Clottie laid eyes on Nirvana, she bolted for her friend. Nirvana did likewise, a grin splitting her face at the sight of her long-time companion.
Al watched the two girls embrace each other as he stood up and began walking towards his brother. Ed jogged towards Al with a smile, and a needle shoved itself through Al's heart. Their mission had obviously been completed, and completed swimmingly, at that. It would be hard to break it to Edward that the others had not fared nearly so well.
As Al passed the two girls, he heard Nirvana say, "God, you had me worried, seeing all that blood on you- Hey... hey, what's the matter...?"
He bowed his head as Edward finally caught up to him, and his older brother said, "Glad to see you're obviously alright, though it looks like you'll need a new suit."
Ed playfully picked up the ribbons off cloth dangling off Al's arm, and the alchemist smiled bitterly. He still hadn't gone to the infirmary for his injuries, but he had thought it better to wait on his comrades than go and get help just yet. Now that he knew how many had survived, perhaps it was time to lick his wounds and wait. Ed must have seen the look on Alphonse's face, and Al's head snapped up as Ed asked, "Things... didn't go as well for everybody else, though, huh?"
Al opened his mouth, and he sighed with a heave.
"First, tell me everything that happened."
Edward frowned, his brow creasing as a realization dawned on him. "Something really went sour, didn't it?"
The look on Al's face was all he needed to see.
The three sat in Ed's room, all of them in shock. Alphonse sat before them, hands folded in his lap with his head bowed. His eyes were red from crying, and he had a handkerchief balled up in his palm.
"I'm sorry. I really am. We had this all planned out, and we knew there would be casualties..."
"She's dead," Zhang said numbly, his face slack. He held himself as he sat on Edward's bed, his eyes looking to some far off destination. Though he was hardly more than Edward's age, the news seemed to have aged him. Ed put an arm around his shoulder, and the Xingese boy allowed him this small gesture. Ed himself was at a loss for words.
Alice, dead. The words didn't seem to fit together right. She had been a person with such spirit. To imagine that she had been alive just a couple of hours ago... Ed rubbed the bridge of his nose as tears pricked his eyes. To his left, Nirvana sat as still as a stone. She hadn't said a word since Alphonse had broken the news to them, her eyes intent on the fish tank set into the floor beneath their feet.
Suddenly, with explosive energy, Nirvana picked up the nearest object, a phone, and threw it with a roar at the wall. She stood, panting as she stomped out of the room, and Edward made as if to get up and follow her. Al stood up to stop him, shaking his head.
"We all grieve in different ways, Ed. She'll need some time," Al said.
Ed slowly sat back down next to Zhang, and the three sat in silence.
"I have to make preparations. Things have been... been crazy down on the ground, and if we're not careful, we could have a more unruly uprising on our hands than we wanted. I have to oversee some of the operations. But, if you need me..." Alphonse put a hand on both Zhang and Ed's shoulders with a shaky smile.
"I'll be up in the conference room, and you can knock any time," Al said. At last, he left the two alone, and the only sound was the soft breathing of two young men who felt there should be a third with them.
"I was going to go on a date with her," Zhang finally said quietly, his words sticking in his throat. Ed looked over to the young emissary, who was frantically wiping away his tears.
"We were supposed to go and get something to eat. I wanted to take her to this good little restaurant I found while walking around one day. She'd been so stressed out by this mission, you know? I thought it would be good to get her to wind down afterward," Zhang said, his words coming out in a tumble. He put his hands over his mouth as he thought for a little longer about what he was going to say.
"I didn't ask her. And now I'm not going to get to ask her," Zhang spit out bitterly, sobbing on his last few words.
"She was the last family I have, besides Al and Dad," Ed stated, drawing his knees up to his chest. Her death hadn't been like Mom's. He'd been present for Trisha Elric's death, something that had hammered home that his mother had left this world. No, this was a death he only heard secondhand. It was so hard to believe it, perhaps because it was so fresh. He remembered what it was like to hear of Hughes' death as well, that punch to the gut to realize that he would never see the smiling man and his blasted photographs...
And now, his purple-haired, bombastic, however-many-great-grand niece was dead as well, and she had believed that she would be okay. She did not die in fear, but she did not get the opportunity to make any last requests, either. Something about that killed a small part of Edward. What was the last thing he had said to her? What was the last thing she'd said to him? Had he ever told her how much he appreciated her company, or how much she gave him a bit of hope? They'd been through so much together, and now she was just...
... gone.
As Zhang sobbed beside him, Ed put his head in his hands and tried to make sense of the world. All he could ask himself was, Was this worth it?
A/N: Hello, everybody! Yet another chapter, out and about! Sorry that this is a month late, but it's finally been written and ready to be read, fresh off the printing press! Hopefully you enjoy this installation - maybe with a hankie, maybe with a box of tissues - and I apologize for the heavy material. Things are a little slow in this portion of the story, I understand, and hopefully you can stick with a few breather chapters just to calm down from the fast-paced action of the last few chapters.
Many, many thanks to my reviewers! To lilaclily00 - I concur; Father is equally difficult to write! Ed's banter helps me get along with it, though. To Brenne - thanks for picking up on that insinuation! I had hoped it would be apparent, and I was afraid that I had made it a little too vague. Thanks for the enthusiasm! To BlueVanLocke - I am a monster, unabashedly. Thank you for noticing. To Hikari Hellion - glad you've caught up and seem to be enjoying these past few chapters! Let this sate your appetite!
And finally, thank you, new subscribers and favoriteers! Your support is greatly appreciated.
As for discussion: Do you still feel compelled to read this to the end? Do you feel like things are finally wrapping up? How do you feel about the loss of another party member? Are things going at a good pace, or is everything too fast/too slow? What kind of improvements do you think need to be made to the characters? Do you like the science-fiction aspect of the story, and does it play well with the FMA-universe?
Thank you, all, and God bless you! Have a wonderful time reading, and don't stop being on the look out for that next good story!