The weeks after the initial attack passed slowly. Each felt their grief in their own way. For Greed, it was in silent contemplation over a lost pawn, as if he'd dropped a chess piece into a deep pool and knew he couldn't get it back. For Nirvana, it was in wandering the city on her own, getting lost in its rhythms and sighs. For Clottie, it was in honing her skills so that such an event should never have to happen again. For Zhang, it was in the quiet depths of his room, listening to Alice's music on her laptop, which she'd left behind.
And for Ed and Al, they did what only they knew how when the world heaped a death on their shoulders. They worked.
Edward leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders. He winced as his neck popped as he twisted his head side to side, attempting to get the kink out of his spine from such prolonged craning. He looked across the table to see that Alphonse was about to fall asleep in his chair, his head supported by his arm resting on the table. They'd pored over all the books that Nirvana and Edward had managed to pilfer from Father's library. It was quite the haul, and much of it had to be translated. Several people had ogled at the books - apparently, much to Ed's sadness, paperbacks were an incredible luxury - as they transported them to Al's makeshift headquarters near the top of Greed's personal tower. Even that which Ed could read passed over his head. It was mostly physics, a subject he'd never cared much for to start with. Alphonse, however, seemed much more enthralled, as while Ed needed frequent breaks, Al had to be reminded that as a human, he did need to eat and sleep.
Never the less, it was quite something to see him work out incredibly complex equations on giant white boards around the room, only to erase them all in an angry swipe. Ed had never seen his brother so focused on a piece of work - even alchemy.
And thus, he knew he had to intervene before Alphonse woke from his reverie realizing he hadn't peed for almost five hours.
"Al."
No response, just a flip of the page.
"Al."
Yet again, only the quiet roaming of the eyes. He was lost in that book.
Ed picked up a stray piece of paper and balled it up. He found himself a stray rubber band (even in the future, these things were everywhere), and he made himself a tiny slingshot with thumb and forefinger. Carefully, he took aim at Al's face, and then - shoot!
It hit Al squarely in the eye, and the alchemist jerked out of his self-imposed exile. He squeezed his eyes shut and moaned, putting his head to the table.
"What?" Al whined piteously.
"We've been here since nine this morning."
"Uh-huh?"
"It's seven in the evening. We left this room at two to eat, so we've been here five hours."
"Oh. That explains why I need to pee so bad."
Ed rolled his eyes at his brother's antics. So far, their record was almost seven hours without a bathroom break. At one point, they'd gotten into a stupid contest to see who could last the longest. They almost had to call in a maid to clean up. Boys didn't change much.
"You think we're actually going to find anything in these?" Ed asked, slamming shut one of the books. Al looked up blearily.
"I don't really know. A lot of it is phenomenal stuff, the kind of ground-breaking research I'd expect to see in any of the universities in Xing. None of it, though, has anything to do with time travel," Al sighed to himself.
It was quiet for a while longer. Ed spun around in his chair while staring at the ceiling.
"We're gonna have to face it sometime, I guess. She's gone."
"Yeah... I know," Al answered quietly.
"It's just weird, you know? One day they're there -"
"- and the next, you realize you'll never get to show them that new song you found, or find out their favorite food," Al finished.
"Exactly."
They both knew they'd been avoiding it. Work was a way out, an escape, from contemplating the void created. But now that their work felt fruitless...
"I think I need a walk," Ed sighed, pushing himself to his feet. His automail creaked a bit more than usual. It hadn't been repaired in months, and it was due for a tune-up. However, Ed didn't know any mechanics - and he didn't trust them either. As much as he hated to admit it, his piece was an antique, and that drew attention. He had to wear long sleeves at all times if he were to walk outside, otherwise he'd draw stares as people ogled the museum piece attached to his shoulder. Luckily, he didn't have to go out often. Greed's tower was a realm unto itself.
However, right this moment, Ed wanted to get out of the confining walls of this one building and feel the night air. After all - there was a whole city to explore.
"Ed, you're not serious. It's just been a few weeks. What if someone recognizes us?" Al asked, frowning.
"Well, you might not be able to go out, but I can," Ed said devilishly, grinning with wicked intent.
Al's shoulders fell.
"I didn't think about that when we decided to broadcast! I would have worn a hood or something!"
"Ah, ah, ah, too late for that. The price of fame, little brother."
Alphonse grimaced as Ed slapped him on the shoulder and picked up his coat. Edward put his arms through the jacket as he walked out of the conference room they'd taken over, and Alphonse said to Ed's back, "Hey!"
Ed turned to look at him, and Al took a minute to survey his older brother. In modern garb, Ed looked a different man from the person Al remembered, in their halcyon days. While his jacket was still red, it was cheaply manufactured. He wore a black t-shirt beneath, and his pants were black cargoes that hid his clunking, metal leg. He looked like an urban street rat in those clothes, and for some reason, that almost suited Ed. He'd never been the type who dressed purely to impress.
"Stay safe, okay?" Al suggested.
"Since when do I not?" Ed stated, swaggering out the door. Alphonse merely sighed with long-suffering and, after a moment, got up. He needed himself a bathroom break.
The night air was cooler than Ed had expected. It had been a long time since he'd been outside in the city, and he was again floored by how much activity there was. It seemed like everyone was doing something, what with cars whizzing by on the busy roads, the lights changing colors on every street, and every single person from here to Xing walking along around him. He'd never been that much a fan of cities, but the hustle was almost invigorating, especially after having been in that single room for so long.
He wasn't sure where he was headed, honestly. He wondered if he'd just wanted out so he could clear his head of numbers and fancy terms. Perhaps he wanted to actually experience the city without Nirvana's watchful eye on his back. Or maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see what exactly it was he was fighting for.
Ed didn't walk too far from Greed's tower. It was a giant landmark within this portion of the city, and there were no tall buildings around it for almost half a mile. However, once the buildings again rose to touch the sky, small bars and restaurants and gadget shops cropped up. It was a surprising mishmash of businesses, everything from stores selling only lightbulbs to the occasional blacked-out bar hosting a particular risque performance (needless to say, Ed didn't go to those, though Greed had offered to pay). Edward was amazed at the sheer variety some days, and it was here he had his most rewarding observations. He got to see what life really was like for people who lived in Patron, and for some reason, it felt more like home than even Alphonse did.
As much as Ed liked to classify himself a misanthrope, he liked humans too much for his own good.
It didn't take him long to find an interesting place to camp out and just listen. It was a quiet, little bar with a blaring, neon sign overhead that read in bright white and red Nightlight. Ed pushed open the door, which was re-purposed from an old shipping container wall. Inside, the entire bar looked like it could collapse in on itself in a matter of seconds with a hard-enough breeze. The ceiling was strung with storm lights that cast a pinkish-red glow over everything within. Ed could see pipes running in and out of walls like metal worms. Corrugated metal took the place of drywall, and metal posts with thick plywood served as tables which were full of chattering patrons. Overhead, there were televisions hooked up to cables that looked perilously exposed and frayed. A game was playing - some futuristic sport involving two balls and flying scoremen - and several were enthralled in the drama, downing their cheap, synthetic beer. As Ed sat himself at the bar, he could hear the men talk of the game and smell bodies, cologne, halitosis...
"Look at 'im go, there's Redmann for you, right there..."
"Ah, come on, you idiot, Redmann couldn't catch a fly if he had a net the size of the Eyrie district!"
"Oi, don't knock Redmann. Sure he couldn't catch a ball if someone dropped it in his hand, but look at that swing right there - he knows how to throw..."
"Besides, those Xingese idiots can't toss worth nothin'. It's not even worth betting on."
"What'll I get for you, hun?" an old woman asked from behind the counter. She was tall and lanky, her hands like spiders wrapped around a glass. Ed blinked and considered his millions of options, which were scrawled on a blackboard behind the bartender's head.
"I'm not sure what to -"
"Get him a Xing Sunrise, Amanda. Put it on my tab," said a voice nearby.
Ed looked to his benefactor, surprised. Charity was not often given in the city, that much was certain. At least, not to random strangers.
The voice's owner was a young woman, perhaps a bit older than Ed in her late teens, early twenties. She wore a short tanktop and high-waisted pants with a cut-out diamond design, a long, white asymmetrical jacket over everything to round it out. She looked like an urbanite by all accounts, though not the kind to frequent a seedy bar like this. Her dark lipstick and eyes stood out in the wan light of the bar.
"Thanks," Ed stated hesitantly.
"My pleasure," the woman said pleasantly, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her own drink.
A toxic red drink slid in front of Ed, and he sniffed it experimentally. The faint scent of sour lime and soft cherry met his nose, and he took a slight drink. At first it was sweet, but then it turned swiftly sour and bitter. He tried his best not to spit it back out. Definitely an acquired taste.
"So are you trying to butter me up?" Ed asked the woman nearby.
Next to him, the three men who'd been discussing sports yelled with excitement as someone scored a point. Ed glared over his shoulder as an elbow connected with his shoulder.
The woman down the bar snorted a little with laughter, and Ed remembered himself. He straightened up and tried his best not to look perturbed.
"No, actually. Just, you looked like you needed a pick-me-up," the woman said with a smile, and she took another sip of her drink, something bright green in a tall glass.
Ed curiously glanced at it, and he asked, "What's that?"
"This? It's called a Carnegie Reactor."
"Why's that?"
"Well, it's bright green, pretty toxic, and possibly radioactive," the woman laughed. "Do you want one?"
Thinking of his last experience with a mystery drink, Ed quickly said, "Nah, I'm good, really."
"Suit yourself," the woman said pleasantly, going back to having her drink.
Ed looked behind him to the men who were watching sports. Suddenly the television channel changed, and all three men complained loudly. The bartender, Amanda, waved a rag at them angrily and told them to hush as she leaned against the bar. A news reporter was standing in front of a large monument made of concrete in the form of a stylized flower. All across its surface was red spray paint, proclaiming, They lie! Our city! Homunculus scum!
"...standing here in front of the Peace Accord Memorial, which has been here since the mid 2020s. It appears that yet again, vandals have come to mark messages on our city's beautiful monuments. This is unprecedented. The defacement is not only localized - there are another five sites where such vandalism has taken place..."
It seemed that Al's little posse was busy yet again. Ed hid a smile as he thought of the other places where messages had been painted. Ed himself had snuck out with Nirvana to do a bit of extra work on a federal building, painting a massive -
"Pretty crazy, huh? City's really in a froth," Amanda grumbled as she cleaned her glasses.
"What's the matter, Manda, scared of change?" a patron called out.
"Yeah, well, these scum are just trying to scare everyone, we all know that. That whole thing with Lust, that was a hoax. People don't kill homunculi, it ain't even possible," one of the sports fans jeered back.
"What if they aren't trying to scare us, though? What if they're trying to get us to think a little?" said the woman who'd paid for Ed's (untouched) drink. "I mean, think about it. They've got Alphonse Elric on their side."
The room erupted into debate. He wasn't real. No, he must be. Splinter was a bunch of terrorists. These people were trying to help. All they were doing was stirring up trouble. There was already trouble to start. On and on, and all Ed could do was sit there and look smug. Yet, a small part of Ed was disappointed. There were quite a few unbelievers even in this tiny bar packed full of people. Yet, there was a bit of hope here too.
"Pretty crazy, huh?" the woman said right next to Ed, as they watched two men debate the ethics of removing political powers through unofficial channels, both hardly able to form sentences, much less arguments.
"We live in crazy times," Ed remarked.
"Amen to that, brother," she murmured as she took another drink.
Ed looked sidelong at the woman, who'd moved to be closer to the action - and in turn, Edward as well.
"What's your name, anyways?" Ed asked, rapping his fingers on the plywood bar.
"Me?" the woman asked, feigning surprise. "Oh, nobody. Ah, if you insist... My name is Allana. I'm an intern with the Biz down 866th."
"The news station?"
"Yup, that's me. I even got to interview all of Lust's top people, though no one but me's ever going to know that," Allana muttered bitterly. "Interns don't get their names on things."
"So what do you think of all this?" Ed asked.
Allana gave him a bit of a sly grin.
"Aaaaah, politically minded for a youngster, are we?"
"Let's just say I've got something like a vested interest. Explain all this to me. I'm new."
"Oh, boy, well... are you in for a doozy..."
Al stared at the board for what seemed like the umpteenth time. It still didn't make sense. His equations refused to equal out. The pattern of the circle wasn't right. The ratios were all screwed up. There was just no way this was how this worked. Al threw the marker into the dish unhappily, sitting down in his chair to stare at the board a bit more.
There was a slight knock on the door, and Al looked over his shoulder with surprise. He hadn't expected Ed to be back so soon - or to even knock. It wasn't in Ed's nature to announce his presence before entering. Usually the only forewarning a person got was Ed's loud, clomping footsteps.
"Come in," Al called.
A pale, round face appeared in the door, short spiked black hair falling to the side slightly. Al sat up straighter and rearranged his rumpled clothes immediately as Clottie entered the room with a tray.
"I figured you would be hungry. We haven't seen your faces for almost the whole day," she said, unloading a whole slew of different snacks. "No actual food, I'm afraid. Greed's cooks are off at the moment, so I hope you're okay with kelp chips and algae crunch bars."
"Sometimes, I marvel at the human body, and other times, I forget how inconvenient it is," Al sighed as he picked up one of the bars off the table, unwrapping a compact, green... thing. And they called this food.
"My apologies, dear Argentum, but we mere mortals have to make due with alimentary canals and fleshly desires," Clottie joked, sitting down in Ed's vacated chair. As Al gnawed at his algae bar, Clottie looked over some of the works before her, flipping through the tomes aimlessly.
"This all looks very complicated," Clottie muttered, picking up a bag of chips. "I was more an alkahestry girl myself."
"Well, believe it or not, alkahestry and alphysics have a lot to do with each other," Alphonse mumbled through his mouthful of food. He swallowed with a grimace.
"You are able to transmit your alkahestry over distances because you have two points of reference - where you throw your knives," Al explained. "Alphysics does much the same thing, except that the substance is the point of reference, rather than any designated objects like kunai. It takes a bit of finagling, though, to find substances that exist in other planes, like that pocket dimension of yours. I'm still teasing that one out."
Clottie nodded with understanding, secretly hiding a grin behind a single sleeved hand. It did not, however, escape Al's notice.
"And this? If my mother could figure out how to create a pocket dimension, what about time?" Clottie asked, gesturing to the board behind Alphonse.
Al stared once more at the board, which was covered in calculations.
"The problem is the same: point of reference. We have no way of creating one in the past... unless, of course, we find a way to designate it..." Al muttered. "Not to mention, the energy required would be phenomenal. We're talking about going against the flow of the space-time continuum. Objects in motion tend to stay in motion-"
"-objects at rest stay at rest unless overcome by a greater force. I'm familiar," Clottie said. "I heard that ad nauseum as Nirvana's roommate. It was her touchstone for everything."
"Exactly. To move backwards in time, you would have to essentially no longer be moving. It's easier to move someone forward in time, because we are all predisposed to going forwards in time. But to go backwards, it would be more like we'd be... standing still, I guess, with time moving past us rather than us moving with time," Al sighed.
He rubbed his temple wearily with hand, leaning in the chair. These were the basic assumptions they made, but there didn't seem to be a way to make those assumptions work together to produce the result Alphonse wanted. They were also forgetting a key component: the Gate. Doing such a large transmutation - and an alphysical transaction - would require some sacrifice, some huge amount of energy. It would be difficult to consider where that energy would come from.
"Would you mind if I...?" Clottie asked, making massaging motions.
Al weighed his options uncomfortably. She was his subordinate (not to mention much younger, in real terms), and they were alone together, and -
Ah, what the heck, his neck hurt and he'd been reading manuscripts literally all day. He could stand to have a nice, young woman rub his shoulders and loosen up a bit. He smiled and said, "No, I don't mind. My back and neck are killing me. I guess I should have taken more breaks."
Clottie walked over and started the process of kneading out all of the knots in Al's back and neck, and immediately Al slipped into half-conscious bliss. While there were many pains to human life, there were an equal number of pleasures as well. As a black box, he couldn't enjoy much, other than occasionally browsing the internet to find silly jokes about cats, or videos of dogs and babies playing together. There was much more to enjoy in being an actual flesh-and-blood human.
"How is Nirvana? Have you talked to her?" Al asked.
Clottie paused before stating, "She's still working through it. She refuses to talk to me. I can't get a word out of her. She just flies around the city and spray paints things with the rest of Splinter. That's how I know she's not herself - she's tolerating them."
Al scoffed a bit. There was no love lost between those two, but Clottie was right. If Nirvana was willingly working with Al's people, there was a problem.
"And you? How are you taking it?" Al asked as her fingers worked into his neck. He enjoyed the nearness and warmth of her hands, the faint smell of something floral from her lotion.
"Getting better. It still hits me sometimes. I still think about it," Clottie answered swiftly, though quietly. "I know, I do not blame myself, sir - it's just... still hard. Wondering if I did the right thing."
Al contemplated that idea for a bit. Had it been right for Clottie to deny Alice her last wishes by hiding the extent of her wounds? Perhaps. But that was a discussion for a different time. The grief was still fresh on all their minds. Heaven knew, Al had trouble even sleeping nowadays. He had not only Alice's death on his head, but the other Splinter agents as well as Greed's people. That wasn't counting the one Splinter agent who was captured. Clottie's kneading suddenly grew fiercer, and Al realized he'd tensed.
"That's natural. You'll always wonder, but eventually the wondering gets less and less. Time and distance really helps," Al sagely suggested, leaning back into Clottie's ministrations.
"Mr. Alphonse, sir? Can I ask you a personal question?"
"Of course," Al said, only half-paying attention. He'd forgotten that massages felt so good.
"If we find we can't send Edward back to his time period, what will you do?" Clottichilde asked, and Al's eyes popped open.
The equations stared at him almost accusingly, and Al remained quiet. He had thought of this scenario himself a few times. All his hopes were pinned on the fact that Ed was not supposed to be here, and that his being here had somehow wrecked the time-space continuum. If that assumption was incorrect, he could possibly lose Ed as well as change absolutely nothing in the process. Yet, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
"I'll keep trying. The homunculi are not immortal. They're not gods," Al sighed, leaning his head back to look up at Clottie.
The Xingese girl looked immensely sad, as if a whole world was on her shoulders.
"Unfortunately, sir, Father might as well be."
"...and that is why you should stick sharpies in your dress pockets on laundry day," Allana spewed out. Three glasses surrounded her, all of them drained dry, and she was working on her fourth.
In the meantime, Edward had suddenly found that his liking for Xingese Sunrises had slowly grown until, at last, he'd down not one, not two, but three of the things. When the bar began imitating a carousel, he'd decided perhaps it was time to stop.
"Are they seriously permanent? Like... if I write on someone's face, it never comes off?" Ed asked emphatically, leaning forward towards Allana.
"No. That's not how it works, you totally can get it off, it just takes a lot of work and a lot of peroxide and a lotta, lotta, lot of scrubbing," Allana answered.
She tried to get her mouth around the straw to her drink, but she managed to chase it three laps around her glass before getting a hold of it. Ed giggled.
"I think you've had too much."
Allana narrowed her eyes and jabbed a finger towards Ed.
"Uuuuh, excuse me, but you thought cats wearing top hats were hilarious."
"That's because they are!"
Somehow their conversation over the course of the night had meandered away from politics and into other things. Ed learned that Allana was born and raised in the lower district of the Oxbow, a northern industrial section of Patron City so named for the massive highway shaped as its namesake. She was only nineteen years old - she apparently looked older than she was - and had managed to snag a gig working at the Iridescent Tower by lying her way through her interview. Allana, in turn, had learned that Ed was a foreign farm boy who was new to the city and was technically still a slave. She'd marveled at his bar code, seeing as she'd never met a slave in person before. From there, they somehow touched on the topic of the merits of boxers versus briefs, as well as siblings and the crazy things they did as kids. This soon led into stupid things they'd done as almost-adults. Ed had to say some of the things Allana had done were quite impressive.
"What time is it anyhow?" Ed asked, looking up at the clock overhead. He was shocked to see that it was almost midnight. He'd been gone four hours!
"Ah, sh-" Ed grumbled as he tried to hop off his bar stool, but instead, he managed to trip and fall on top of another patron. Said patron was not at all pleased, and he stood up, a hulking man almost double Ed's size.
"Oi, watch it, kid," the man growled wheezily, and Ed snorted like a bull.
Allana put her hand out against Ed's chest as if that was enough to deter him.
"Y' don' wanna mess up tha' cute face o ' yours right?" she giggled nervously.
"Yeah, pipsqueak, listen to your girlfriend," the offended patron muttered, sitting back down.
The bar seemed to fall dead silent as Ed stared at the back of the giant man's head.
"Who are you..."
Allana's eyes were wide as dinner plates as Ed rolled up his sleeves.
"...callin'..."
"Um, Ed-"
A bottle seemed to materialize in Ed's hand.
"PIPSQUEAK!?"
The bottle made an intimate acquaintance with the offender's skull, and it was as if a bell had rung.
The entire bar flung into a massive maelstrom of bodies. Men hung from the ceiling lights as people stood on chairs and tables. Bottles were thrown, and the bartender, Amanda, blasted an airhorn almost with boredom. In the fray, Allana somehow managed to grab Ed by the back of the coat as the small alchemist gnawed away at a man's arm. With stumbling footsteps, they managed to make it out of the fracas relatively unscathed, Allana hauling Edward down the street.
"Oi, oi, oi, calm down, calm, calm down," Allana breathed as Edward attempted to go back into the bar. "No, no, no, no, hey. No. That's... that's enough for one night, 'kay? Tough guy?"
Ed cracked his knuckles and jerked his chin at the bar. A window broke, and someone's head lolled out the open space languidly, a stupid grin on their face.
"We should go before the cops get here," Allana slurred.
"That's... a good idea," Ed agreed as he tottered side to side.
Together, they stumble-walked down the street, more often than not laughing as they tried to make sense of their four feet and four legs and which ones were supposed to go in what order. Eventually, the two realized they didn't even know which direction they were going. Finally, Allana made the executive decision they were going to her apartment, and the two managed to make it halfway before Ed panicked.
"Wait wait wait, my little brother - I mean, he's not really little, he's actually older now - it's a long story - I gotta go back to him, he's gonna worry," Ed said, trying to turn around. The street lights cast long shadows in the alley way, which was full of dumpsters and trash and human refuse, both living and inanimate. Allana grabbed hold of Ed's jacket before he could go far.
"It's not safe, Ed, you're gonna get mugged 'r somethin'," Allana urged. "I'm sure you can call 'im in the mornin' or somethin', I got a landline, gosh."
"I can take a mugger," Ed protested, but he allowed himself to be lead away anyhow.
Eventually, they came upon a run-down apartment complex, but it was still in fair shape. The windows were covered by bars, and the door was locked, but Allana was able to let them in. Soon, they were in her apartment. It was filled with life's detritus - papers, knick knacks, broken equipment, and some furniture handed down a fourth time over. A threadbare couch was the centerpiece, with a bedroom and a mattress branching off to the side. Allana let Ed collapse on the couch with a laugh, and Ed groaned while rubbing his face.
"I'm gonna feel this tomorrow, aren't I?" he asked.
"Yeeeeaaaah, yeah you are," Allana drawled. "Got a bathroom there, and food's 'n the fridge if you want any. Mostly cold pizza and algae bars. You feelin' okay?"
Ed looked at her with a soft smile.
"Yeah. Hey... thanks. I kinda needed an out. Things, you know, been tough," Ed mumbled.
"Figured after I saw you walk in. You looked pretty done. You okay?"
"Yeah... I'm okay," Ed admitted.
Allana turned on the lamp nearby with some fumbling, and Ed tried to help. Their fingers tangled, and they snorted with laughter realizing they couldn't even pull their hands apart or work a lamp in their state. And then, in a flash, he found himself kissing her. He wasn't sure why, or even how it had happened. It was an odd kind of sensation, that his stomach was flopping inside of him like a fish - do fish even exist any more or had they all died out too? - and her cheek was soft, she smelled like something spicy, and there was something about her gasp of surprise that shocked him to his senses. They pulled apart and looked at each other with confusion.
"Y'know I woulda gone fer it first, but you could, like, have farm diseases or somethin'," Allana joked.
"I don't have farm diseases! I'm vaccickinated!"
Allana seem to consider this, before suddenly grinning.
"Well, there's no reason to not, huh?"
As much as Al would have loved to continue his masseuse session with Clottie, he'd known better. After indulging for all of ten minutes, he'd told her he was good and let her help him out. However, she fell asleep some time around midnight, and Al woken her to send her to bed.
Now, he had other business to attend to. He was exhausted, yes, but he needed more information. The books were proving difficult, even for Alphonse, to read, and he felt they were running short on time. Ed had relayed something to him that had scared and invigorated him into further action, and he'd hoped his people in the field could tell him something soon, but so far there was no such luck. No - he'd need to talk to someone who was in Father's inner circle.
The elevator rode smoothly down, so fast that Al didn't even feel like he was moving. He yawned into his hand, briefly wondering what his brother must be up to. Ed had yet to come home, and Al toyed with the idea of going out to look for him. It wasn't like him to stay out, but at the same time he knew he had to give his brother his space. Ed didn't enjoyed being looked after, something he and Pinako and Winry had learned the hard way. Ed preferred to take care of himself and others around him - perhaps something to do with being unable to do anything in those first, formative years in his life. Al wondered if that was why Ed continued on now - his sense of duty wouldn't let him quit even if he wanted to.
The elevator slowed to an air-cushioned halt, and Alphonse stepped out into a pristine corridor. Though it felt like every other hallway, Al imagined he could feel the twenty thousand metric tons of rock over his head. Somewhere above him the city was running like a top, but down here, he'd never know a single thing was going on. Al walked briskly down the hall way to the single door at the end, and he pressed his finger to the keypad. The door opened for him, and he was faced with another door. He allowed the room to scan him, and the next door opened.
Three more times this process repeated, each time requiring another form of identification. And then, at last, he walked into the sanctum sanctorum, their ace in the hole.
"Good evening, Lust. How are you feeling today?"
The room was well-furnished, if a bit smaller than what Al was used to. Lust sat on a queen-sized bed with a book in hand, her perfect frame hardly indenting the bed. A vanity and a chest of drawers held her belongings, though there weren't exactly many. Homunculi didn't even need to breathe. Most of the fixtures in the room were for comfort's sake, rather than necessity.
"I'd feel better if I weren't almost half a mile below ground," Lust grumbled irately, but she made no other comment.
"I'd like to know something. Did Father ever share with you any information about recent projects he was working on?" Al asked.
"Direct, are we? Hmm, no. I'm not the trusted daughter I used to be, remember?" Lust asked scathingly, turning back to her book. Al knew she would be difficult, but he hadn't expected he'd have to deal with passive aggression. He almost wished they could just fight it out rather than Alphonse pull teeth.
"My brother said that he saw them loading a rocket," Alphonse sighed, sitting down on the one chair in the room.
That seemed to draw Lust's attention.
"Is that so."
"You seem interested."
"I had... heard rumors. It's my business to know things, as you remember. Well, I do recall that Father was planning to build the capacity of the space frontier program for bigger building projects," Lust said primly, crossing her legs. "A lot of manufacturers were involved, and some very custom arrays were being required. Apparently, it needed to be a low orbit, from what I recall, but not a whole lot else. Your brother - he was the blonde one I take it?"
"Yes, that was Edward," Al said quietly, careful to keep his face neutral.
Lust smiled.
"Ah, yes. We made our acquaintance some time before you... rejoined the world of the living. As I recall, he is a most interesting person. You will say hello, won't you?"
Alphonse smiled back.
"Consider it done. That was all I wanted to know. If you think of anything else, just ring for Greed and I'm sure he'll tell me."
Alphonse stood up to leave, and as he reached for the first door, Lust mentioned, "Oh, by the way, if you're looking for the project name... try Umbra. As I recall, Father's been very interested in the moon and eclipse cycles lately."
Al's blood chilled as those words reached his ears, and he quickly let himself out of the room. It seemed he'd be pulling an all-nighter.
A/N: Hello, all! Another chapter, another day, another brick in the wall. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. It's a bit of a breather given all the craziness that went down in the last one - and I promise that I will string everything together to make sense. I can't just leave y'all hanging!
Thank you so much for your continued support, and I am so glad that I have you guys reading my stories. I hope to see more and more reviews - that's how I know that I'm doing well and really writing what you guys like! I don't want to devolve into nonsense, and you guys start to scratch your heads wondering what I'm doing. I want this sort of thing to be fun and exciting to read, the kind of thing you guys will enjoy. So do leave me your thoughts! Thank you, Brenne and Blue Vanlocke and lilaclilly00 for leaving your thoughts - I'm sad that Alice's death kind of sucked for everyone involve, but such is the life of the drama writer.
Again, I'm very thankful for those of you who subscribe or favorite. I've been slacking a little... well, a lot, haha! I'll try to get back to this as soon as I can. Again, thank you all!
That's all I've got for now. God bless you, and happy reading!