Knowing More Than Recommended
Note: Thanks for keeping with me! I will never let this story go 8 months without an update again! Let's finish this thing! Too bad I planned out a few extra chapters than I originally intended... Oh well! HELL YEAH, FMA FOR LIFE.
I took more characteristics from Brotherhood!Kimblee and applied them in this chapter; mostly his photographic memory.
-passes out-
This chapter features: Episode 41 "Holy Mother" Ed gets a letter to Mustang warning him to stay away from the transmutation array in the city. Kimblee tries to incite the rebels, but only draws Scar out for a final showdown. After ruining one of Scar's arms, the wounded Kimblee makes one final bomb out of Al. In the escape tunnels under the city, Ed encounters the familiar face on Sloth, as well as Wrath, but Rose's wailing baby distracts them from killing Ed.
-/-/-
The train to Resembol arrived late in the evening. Brandon and Kelsey stepped onto the platform together, where Winry and the Tringham brothers waited for them. Brandon could tell the redhead was enthused to meet more familiar characters in the series; she greeted Winry as a friend before bombarding the Tringham brothers with questions- mostly pertaining to their adventure with Ed and Al in Xenotime. (Episodes 11 and 12). During the train ride, however, Brandon caught Kelsey up on all of his dealings so far, like rigging up the underground Central for whenever the final battle would take place there. He intentionally left out all of the details involving Winry.
He knew Kelsey would figure it out soon enough.
With one hand, Brandon grabbed the luggage off the train. With the other, he took hold of Winry's hand. They exchanged a silent greeting with glowing eyes and embarrassed smiles, before following the brothers and Kelsey out of the station.
Finally, when they arrived at the Rockbell Automail house, Brandon spoke to Winry low enough that only she could hear, and said "I told you I'd be back."
The brunette earned himself a quick peck on the lips before the blonde mechanic scampered off to accommodate her guests.
There were enough spare rooms in Winry's house for everybody if Russel and Fletcher stayed together, and if Kelsey joined Winry in her room, so Brandon was left alone in the remaining bedroom not occupied by Grandma Pinako. Later into the night, right as Brandon tucked himself into the warm blankets Winry gave him, Kelsey poked her head in his room and "pssst"-ed loudly.
Brandon trapped himself inside the blankets when she successfully startled him. After a brief moment of wrestling the covers, Brandon rolled out of them and landed on the floor with a solid thump.
The redhead giggled. "Everyone else is asleep- or they were," she teased. The brunette grumbled and pulled himself to his feet.
"What the hell, Kelsey!"
The short girl quietly shut the door behind her. Brandon finally noticed the bundle of cloth in her hand, and all of his frustration instantly disappeared and was replaced with curiosity. "Remember when I mentioned on the train that I wanted to try something?"
"And I wasn't going to like it?" Brandon finished.
Kelsey nodded and spread the cloth and its contents out over the floor. The several candles, chalk, herbs and colorful stones looked typical for one of Kelsey's spells- back in the world they came from.
"I thought Witchcraft didn't work here... remember?" the male reminded her.
The girl brought an old, leather-bound book into view. The same book Amy stole from Dante's mansion. "Yeah, Witchcraft from the 21st century on our side of the gate is a bit different from the early 14th century in this world." She opened the book and blew the dust off the page. "The magick here is pretty similar to that of-"
"Alchemy!" Brandon shouted. He saw a weird circle design on the yellowed page- it looked just like an alchemy array.
Now, Kelsey pulled the 'Advanced Alchemy' book into view, and opened it to a page with the same basic array. Brandon remembered that in their world, that book had been an Advanced Magick book... Somewhere in the gate, the book had changed, and Kelsey had been clueless with its contents.
He glanced up at Kelsey, who currently grinned from ear to ear.
"Wait," the male started. "I thought Alchemy didn't make a bit of sense to you... Now a similar subject has enlightened you or something?"
The redhead smirked an all-knowing sort of smirk.
Brandon gave her a 'tell me' command with his rich brown eyes.
"When I did a spell to return Amy's memories, the gate took back it's 'truth,' and I saw most of it before it got gobbled back behind the doors."
Brandon dropped his jaw. "Is that even possible?"
"That's what we're going to test!" Kelsey bounced with excitement. "You take the Alchemy book and I'll take the Witchcraft book Amy stole for me... We'll look at the similarities and see if I can understand both magick and alchemy, because I'm pretty sure I've been performing alchemy all along without realizing it."
The male didn't wait another second before he dove into the ink on the pages.
-/-/-
"Finally, at least one is putting up a fight," Kimblee said with satisfaction.
The pack of chimera disappeared behind the corner, quick to attack whoever was daring enough to approach...
But the few beasts in the back retreated with whimpering cowardice as the ones in the front screamed in agony. Kimblee raised an eyebrow- not because he cared about the beasts, but because he thought he heard their bodies exploding from the inside-out. Interesting.
He waited for the attacker to round the corner, to step into view. It wouldn't take more than a moment to run over and blow them to bits, but Kimblee had to know exactly who also employed the art of explosives. The alchemist continued to hear the sloshing booms of the chimera's rib cages expanding rapidly... Slowly, the technician of the explosions walked into view, and finished off the last of the mutts with ease. Kimblee analyzed the man quickly; the attacker utilized his right arm to create the bombs. The alchemy he performed seemed unrefined but still highly effective, obviously, considering the red smudges on the road where full-fledged chimera were just standing. Tanned skin- typical of desert people, but he wrapped himself in a large shawl. Kimblee thought Liore was a bit more advanced than the robed people of Ishbal, and this man's attire seemed typical of the latter...
The man stopped advancing; in the stillness, he and Kimblee met eyes. The red irises that glared at Kimblee answered every query the alchemist had.
Ishballan.
"Zolf J. Kimblee, the Crimson Alchemist..." the Ishballan recited sharply. His menacing voice said Kimblee's complete name and title as if he'd been studying the bomber for years. Or maybe he'd been waiting for the day they would cross paths. How cute, Kimblee thought.
And then he noticed the x-shaped scar that crossed over the Ishballan's eyes and forehead.
"Yes... that is definitely my handiwork," he gloated.
The Ishballan looked ruthless. There was a fierceness in his red eyes that took Kimblee back to the exact moment when he'd met this particular man. On a mission at the eastern front to exterminate a civilization, similar to his present mission...
"I thought I got your arm," Kimblee remembered thoughtfully.
The scarred man tightened his fist over his shawl before throwing it to the ground. "I made an oath that I wouldn't kill another state alchemist... that I would focus myself on making the stone and saving my people..." The crimson fire in his eyes screamed with determination the longer they stayed on Kimblee. "But I will make one last exception! Your death will be all too quick, Crimson Alchemist!"
Kimblee smirked and glanced at the red stone necklace around his neck. Effortlessly, he activated its power and detonated a nasty little bomb to take out his revenge-bent Ishballan.
The imploding dust and rock chinks were music to the bomber's ears.
"Too easy."
Pathetic, just like the rest of the race.
"AAAAAAUH!" A brutal shout to his right surprised the alchemist- the Ishballan was alive and faster than he expected! Kimblee jumped back and narrowly avoided getting blasted by his deadly right arm.
Shit! He'd underestimated the Ishballan.
The alchemist leapt across the street to gain his footing at a safe proximity. But his attacker didn't allow Kimblee time to properly recalculate his speed; he ran straight for the alchemist again. The dangerous hand almost made contact with Kimblee's chest-
Suddenly, the red stone around Kimblee's neck glowed and detached from the necklace. Like a magnet, it was pulled straight to the Ishballan's palm. Just as a sugar cube melts over hot tea, the stone passed through the Ishballan's skin, causing the man a great amount of pain. He gripped his arm and waited for the pain to subside.
"Don't bother using those red stones on me!" He shouted. "I'll just absorb their lives into my arm!"
Kimblee glanced at the strange, tattooed array that covered the length of the Ishballan's arm. "Ah, now it makes sense," he pieced together smoothly. "That's your brother's arm. How touching." The odd arrays explained the Ishballan's unrefined style of explosives. He was just deconstructing matter- the second of three steps in the alchemic process. Lazy prick. At least Kimblee turned his bombs into a gunpowder-like material, which was much cleaner.
The Ishballan struggled to his feet as the pain subsided. Having a solid object phase through skin probably hurt like a bitch, but Kimblee didn't have it in him to give a flying fuck.
With a wide grin on his face, the alchemist touched the wall next to him and let his explosive art totally take hold. The scarred man dodged the avalanche of stone, of course, but a little chase would certainly make this mission that much more entertaining.
How odd, right now, that a small voice in his head told him this death-fight wouldn't end in victory.
-/-/-
As dusk withered away into night on the desert base, the younger Elric brother entered Colonel Mustang's office with increasing gusto and a note in his hand.
He'd found the note on top of the bed he didn't sleep in, left by Kelsey. He should have seen it much, much sooner, but he'd been out for a longer walk than usual. After all, his brother and his friend had left him- being cooped in a little room didn't sound too exciting. After reading what the note had to say, he ran straight to the Colonel.
Dear Al,
I already told you and Ed that Scar wants to use Liore to make the stone... What I didn't tell you both in detail is that Scar plans on drawing the military into the city and use them as components for the stone, not the people of Liore. They'll have escaped underground by the time the military gets there.
It is up to you if you want to tell Colonel Mustang this. He should be able to stop the military from invading. If he's successful, the stone won't be made, and you and Ed won't be able to get your bodies back.
I'm sorry I didn't warn you sooner! Please forgive me.
Sincerely,
Kelsey.
Silence enveloped the office as Colonel Mustang read the note aloud. "Use the military as components for the stone?" He whispered under his breath, not believing that something so horrendous could be possible- and very close to becoming reality if he didn't do something about it.
Havoc fell back in his seat and hit the floor with a thud- it broke the glass of shock that encased Mustang's team.
"Al, how does that civilian know all this?" Mustang questioned furiously. His question was beside the point, but nothing was too insignificant- Kimblee had told him that the Fuhrer was a homunculus, and now Scar wanted to use the military to create the stone... There was definitely a connection. Kelsey and her friends seemed innocent, but Hughes once told him that they were nonexistent in the files. This worried Mustang. Hughes also said he felt they used their knowledge for good. The letter proved that, at least. "Well?"
The younger brother seemed hesitant to answer. Kelsey came from beyond the gate; she and her friends knew very important bits of information because this entire world is a series on her side... was it relevant for the Colonel to know all that, though?
"Al," Mustang commanded sternly. The boy snapped back from his thoughts.
"I can't say much. Just know that Kelsey is on our side. I trust her, and my brother trusts her."
The Colonel wasn't completely satisfied with his answer, but he respected the brother enough to let it go.
"Al, I want you to meet up with Ed in Liore," Colonel Mustang ordered.
"Right," Al agreed. He didn't ask questions about Ed's agreement with Colonel Archer; Mustang gave him an order he was more than happy to comply with! He wasn't even in the military, but Al listened to his elders if they deserved it.
"Lieutenant, inform Colonel Archer and Major Armstrong they need to meet me in the Fuhrer's office in 30m."
"Yes sir." The blonde sharpshooter rose to comply with her duty. Al opened the door for Riza, being the gentleman he was. She smiled, but stopped right before she walked underneath the frame.
"Al," Riza said tenderly. Like a mother would. "You had the choice to not tell us about this. You and Edward could have gotten your hands on a way to get your bodies back. Why didn't you keep it to yourself?"
Al didn't hesitate before answering- conviction ran deep through his metal body. "My brother and I promised each other that no one would die for our bodies to be restored. We can find another way."
Riza Hawkeye glanced over at the Colonel, and they shared a look of great approval- and something that looked very similar to parental pride- before she looked up at the younger Elric. "I wish you luck, Alphonse."
-/-/-
Thirty minutes passed, in which Mustang scheduled an emergency meeting with the Fuhrer. He entered the office right after Colonel Archer and Major Armstrong.
Armstrong seemed stern while playing as Archer's side-kick, and Archer was smug with confidence.
That pale, inconsiderate Colonel spent far too long looking out over the 7000 infantry troops that were practicing formation outside of the Fuhrer's office. He saw them as a means to an end, not an army of individual and unique human beings. To Archer, the troops outside were expendable. To Mustang, they were all representative of himself on the eve of the Ishbal extermination.
Fuhrer Bradley gently stirred his tea, then sat down on the couch in the middle of the room.
Roy stood at attention in front of Bradley with an entirely new perspective- this man before him was no longer a King or just a man in a position Roy coveted. Now, Mustang knew the corruption went all the way to the top. Fuhrer King Bradley was a homunculus. Because of this, Roy figured that the Fuhrer would ignore his reasoning not to send in the men, and make up some bullshit excuse to still invade Liore.
But to Roy's surprise, the Fuhrer sided with him!
"I believe it would be in our best interest to try and solve this thing diplomatically, like Colonel Mustang suggests," the Fuhrer reasoned calmly.
Colonel Archer dropped his jaw. "But Fuhrer, that is never going to happen! We need to send in the troops!" Mustang couldn't help but be amused by Archer's child-like tantrum; the man craved victory in war way too much.
Major Armstrong stepped in with his deep, resonating voice. "The Fuhrer is right, we can't attack without cause."
Archer was seething as his own right-hand-man spoke against him. His desert victory was on the line. Tough shit, Mustang thought. He'll just have to get over it.
Satisfied with his secret win, Mustang led the way out of the Fuhrer's office. He couldn't stand to stare another moment at the act the homunculus put up- sipping his tea, holding a polite expression on his face. No, Roy didn't see a King anymore. Just a fake, and he couldn't take it.
"Mustang," Archer raged, after they left the neutrality of the Fuhrer's office. Mustang turned, his face blank and uninterested. "I'd like to speak with you in my office."
"Whatever it is, it can be said now."
Archer held back his snarl, and took a moment to smooth over his features. Another fake expression, Mustang noted dully. "You are making a mistake."
With that, Colonel Archer motioned to Armstrong to turn and walk away with him. Ridiculous. Roy contemplated how deep Archer may be involved with the corruption for a long moment, until their receding footsteps died down. Perhaps he and the Lieutenant should investigate where that man's rumored "command center" is in the morning.
-/-/-
A heavy line of sweat traced down the side of Kimblee's dirty face. The salty perspiration irritated the few cuts and scrapes he'd gathered from his chase with Scar. The Ishballan collected a few bleeding wounds as well- but neither man was near finished. The bomber's chest rose and fell as he attempted to catch his breath. An instant later, the alchemist ducked in cover as the wall behind him exploded and forced him to the ground. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and threw a counter bomb in Scar's direction.
The "psychotic bomber" inside of the alchemist was enthralled as Scar and he formed a sort of dance. A deadly, bomb-dropping, vie-for-power type of samba. Kimblee would strike, causing an entire side of a building to collapse on top of Scar, boom crash thud, but the Ishballan's quick speed would maneuver around the debris and issue his own counter-explosion, rumble clank chink, in which Kimblee would tuck and roll to safety right on tempo; then the cycle would start all over again.
"We can do this all day, Scar," Kimblee mocked. He noticed the edges of the sun's light on the horizon. The night had been short, but all too sweet.
His heart pounded in his ears as another one of Scar's explosives threw him into the sand; he back-flipped across the street once he regained his footing. Scar dashed straight for him, but a bomb blew up right in his path and threw the Ishballan to the opposite side of the road. The alchemist smirked.
Scar staggered up, wiping a bit of blood from his forehead. "I'll go as long as it takes to avenge my brother, Kimblee." The hatred on his tongue was clear.
The next sound ended their deadly samba indefinitely: the ear-splitting pop of a gunshot made both men look over.
With ease, Amy emptied the casing from the rifle's chamber and pushed the next bullet into place- all before Scar and Kimblee could start blowing each other to high-hell again.
"Don't move, Scar!" she commanded strongly.
Kimblee's utter shock put his bomb-high on pause as she walked over toward him, keeping her rifle trained on Scar. He wondered dozens of questions, some relevant and some completely stupid. His mind-to-mouth connection decided on one of the stupid questions once the surprise passed. "Why do you have a rifle?"
Amy didn't take her eyes off Scar as she answered her psycho quickly and concisely. "Ever since I got my memories back, I haven't been able to wrap my head around all of the alchemy you taught me. So, I found this rifle on the way here; it got left behind when all of the people of Liore evacuated." Scar responded to this bit of information, but then his face hardened over to the blank scowl he wore before. "I needed something to protect us with." After a brief pause, she added, "I'm not going to let you die here. It's my turn to save you."
The Crimson Alchemist, worthy of saving. What has the world come to?