Crescendo

With the eventful night, Roy hadn't much sleep. His eyes stung a bit. Laying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't shake the thick knot of dread in his chest. Nothing consoled him. A pang of envy hit hard. Amelie had found a way to feel Havoc even when he wasn't around; what Roy wouldn't give to have that talent now. Just something, anything, to assuage his fear. He just wanted to know that which he'd so long ignored.

A metallic crash downstairs made him spring from bed. Stopping at the threshold of the kitchen, he saw Nathaniel picking up fallen pans. The young man had eggs on the counter. Some butter was beside them and the glass bottle of milk had already been emptied. Roy couldn't remember if he'd gotten one bottle or two this week.

"Hungry?"

The young man sighed and gave a glance over his shoulder, "Yes."

A ring of the telephone in the foyer cut off Roy's next words snd he grabbed the receiver with one hand while cradling his developing headache in the other, "Mustang here."

"Sir, I just wanted to let you know that I came into the office to finalize forms."

His heart stopped for a moment, "You found the forms you needed, then?"

"Right where I suspected they would be; yes, sir."

The barely perceivable bit of joy in her voice made his shoulders loosen, "I'm happy to hear it, Captain. Thank you for letting me know. I'll see you this evening, then."

"Of course, sir," she said softly before she hung up.

The knowledge that Amelie and Havoc were indeed at headquarters made the burgeoning headache dissipate. He could handle the clanging of pans and utensils, the invasion of his privacy. Although he suspected Hawkeye would stay at Central Command, he wouldn't find himself surprised if she left just to give them privacy. Either way, they were safe.

"General? Is everything all right?"

He nodded and gave Nathaniel a thin smile, "How're your eggs coming?"

The younger man shrugged, "Just eggs. Why? Want some?"

"No, thank you. But I do think I'll put on some coffee. Regular or decaf?"

Nathaniel smiled, "After last night? Regular."

"One large pot of regular coffee, coming up."

With silken white hair cascading down the plush couch, Havoc thought Amelie looked more an angel than an alchemist. The time at the Gate tired her and she'd laid down only a few moments ago. Already, she was asleep. Her demeanor had been anything but upbeat. She'd said she's go back after a chance to decompress but he didn't want to wake her anytime soon.

"Check."

His eyes looked down at the board and he smiled; Riza had his king on the run but he wasn't out of the game just yet. He moved a rook, "I appreciate you staying."

"Of course. No reason to trek home, at any rate," she added while her pensive eyes scanned the trap.

"I really hope the General can get her name cleared."

"Me, too. What will you do if he does?"

Warmth welled up inside him. Looking at her, all he could feel was the peace she invoked, "I guess I'd help her get a normal life. If she wanted it."

"I'm sure she would. Could you handle the General being an overprotective brother?" she smiled.

"Take some getting used to," he allowed.

"Well, there is something to be said for being brave enough to risk it," she jest, a calm smile gracing her features.

He couldn't think of a single thing to say for a moment; Amelie was her own person and the General would either accept that, or wouldn't. Less worrisome than the General's relation to her was the simple fact that she could still choose to leave him. How would he cope with that? Would distance lessen her emotions in him? Or would he have these fleeting half-feelings forever?

"Jean?"

He pulled himself from his mind to see Hawkeye waiting expectantly. Eyes darting down to the board he saw that she'd moved and managed to avoid the trap. He studied his options, "Just thinking."

Fingers hovering over his last knight, he jerked back when Amelie coughed and shot up from the couch. She surveyed the room and her breath slowed. Jean offered her a smile.

She rubbed her eyes, "How long was I asleep?"

"Less than fifteen minutes," Riza answered.

The young woman nodded and yawned before standing. Jean stood with her and followed when she took a few steps towards the hearth, "You should get more rest. You've been at it all night."

"I still feel like I'm missing something. Something obvious."

"If it were obvious, you would've caught it by now. Go back to sleep. Just for a bit. You're the kingpin tonight. We need you rested."

She smiled softly at him before nodding and retracing her steps back to the couch. She turned her back to them. In a soft fetal position, her breathing evened out and Jean could feel her emotions calm into peaceful bliss. He sat next to her. His fingers ran through her hair. He didn't care if Hawkeye was there a few feet away; her soft swirling emotions were reason enough to lean over and dot a quick, tender kiss to her temple.

Riza offered a smile when he looked at her, "Still your move."

With the jeeps full, Roderick looked around at the hand-selected team. Beyond Naomi there would be two dozen individuals with him to help with this final act. More than enough to incapacitate the General and other alchemists during the formal. Knowing that the white-haired woman was out of the picture made him smile again. This would be it. Tomorrow the State Alchemist program would be in shambles and General Mustang, executed.

Naomi came up beside him, smiling, "Everyone's armed. Are we moving out?"

He shook his head, "A few more items," he looked in the direction of the last pallet being unloaded and couldn't help but smile.

Her brow furrowed when she took stock of the canisters, "A bomb?"

"Take out as many of them as we can, then cleanse the rest."

"What if Flame is killed?"

"Then so be it. We can still dump his body on the steps of Central Command."

"And civilians?"

"The formal is for military only. No civilian casualties. Perfect, isn't it?"

She stared at him for a moment before her eyes tracked the canisters of explosive again, "Yeah. Perfect," she lowered her voice and leaned in closer, "Wouldn't it be better to storm the event? Cleanse them all one by one?"

"I don't want to risk our own on a frontal attack. Besides, the blast will do the overpowering for us."

Her smile wasn't as eager as it had been in the past. Her eyes lingered on the bombs. But she nodded nonetheless, "Solid plan."

He placed a hand on her shoulder, "Tomorrow, we'll be in control. Without alchemists, the military won't last long. And when we've won, I want you to be at my side. You deserve that."

Her hand shadowed his, "I'll be right there with you."

"Load up with everything you have. It all ends tonight."

The room was heavy. Not a sound. Roy could see each of them decide to follow him once more unto the breach. Their eyes met his in turn; resolved, strong and resolute. Even eyes so similar to his own were looking back with utter confidence. They all believed in him and in what he was about to order. This was bigger than he was and as much as he hated to think it, he was nothing more than a decoy. The real power and the real potential would all come from his little sister.

"Once we arrive, no alchemy. None. The formation is unstable; any alchemy could set off the transmutation and if that happens, it's over," he intoned what they all already knew. He inhaled deep, "Amelie must be the one to deactivate it. She must get to the center. All other concerns are secondary," his clipped voice was ordering his own death if it meant protecting her and each of his soldiers' jaws clenched down tight at the directive, "You understand me?" he asked softly.

His Captain was the first to offer a small nod, "We understand, sir."

"We do have one advantage, though," Breda scoffed, "He's gunning for you. He might be too distracted to activate the array if he's trying to get revenge."

He smiled thinly and stood from behind his desk, "I'm counting on it. The formal starts in three hours. Get changed, get armed, and meet at the library."

The team stood and dispersed. Roy pulled on his gloves. While he could no longer affect the air to stoke the sparks, he could give Amelie everything she needed to end this the moment the opportunity presented itself.

He and his sister were left in the room, alone, staring at each other. She reached across the space between to gently tug on his dress uniform and slip the last button through its hole. He instinctively straightened when she touched a few of the medals over his heart before leaving well enough alone. Her demure smile was resigned when she offered the dented, silver pocket watch. She swallowed convulsively, pushing back the onset of tears.

"You should take this; for luck."

He reached out and closed his hand around hers, around the memento, "Keep it. You can give it back to me when this is over."

The watch was slid into her pants pocket and she nodded. With a final exhale, Roy walked with her from his office. The weight of that array kept sweeping thoughts of anything else out of his mind. Visor cap tucked under his arm, he and she split ways just outside the offices. Watching her go down the hall he was struck by her confident gait. Whatever plan she'd concocted, it would work. He knew it.

Riza looked away from her reflection in the bathroom mirror to see Amelie walk in and gently close the door behind her. The young woman had been quiet all day; her time at the Gate meant she'd mostly been inside her own head and thinking of transmutations, no doubt. Amelie looked around her at the stalls and Riza smiled.

"We're alone, don't worry."

She crossed her arms over her chest, "I have a favor to ask."

"All right," Riza waited.

"I promised my brother I wouldn't get involved with military rules and whatnot, but I know you can do this for me," she looked down at her feet before she continued, "I need you to protect Roy. Even if he ordered you to protect me. You can't let anything happen to him. If it comes down to me or him, save him. Please," she added quickly at the beginning of protest from Riza.

"If you don't stop the transmutation, that won't matter."

"I've worked through hundreds of ways to contain the transmutation, but there's no way to stop it. No matter how I do it, I don't think I'll survive. He doesn't need to know that. He just needs to be kept safe."

"Amelie..."

"Please. My brother may never find peace, but he needs you if he's to have any chance at it. I don't have a future. The two of you do."

Riza eyed her, hesitating to speak, afraid of what her unsteady voice might say, "Amelie...," she swallowed back her trepidation, "The General and I —"

"He loves you more than he'll ever admit," she cut her off. Stunned, Riza couldn't say anything and Amelie's voice softened, "He hates himself for what he's put you through. Hates that he betrayed you. Every time he snapped in Ishbal, he died inside. He had nightmares when he got back, especially of what he did to you. He loathes his talent, but refused to stop because he knew it was the best way to protect you. The only consolation he has in this world is that you've not given up on him. If I don't survive, he'll still have you and that will be enough to keep him strong."

Riza tried to hold back the brimming water in her eyes. She never once blamed him, but herself, for the carnage in Ishbal. She'd given him a tool and the military had forced him to use it. It was she who bore the brunt of that responsibility. And to hear Amelie say Roy needed her… "What do you expect me to say to that?"

Amelie gave a genuine, soft smile, "You don't need to say anything. It's written all over your face."

Riza had never before felt such a need to justify her loyalty to Roy and explain it. Perhaps it was the fact that this young woman, her peer, was Roy's family. She wanted to say that she would never leave the General. Never betray him or let him leave this path they'd chosen together. And, one day maybe, they could be more than they were now. When or how, she didn't know.

"He'll always have me," she finally said, unsure if even that was too much of an admission to the truth of what Amelie had said. Still, "He needs to know about this."

"If he does, we all die," there was a sepulchral certainty in her voice.

The young woman was unyielding. Riza knew how to stand her ground, how to follow orders. This... This was playing judge, jury, and executioner. This was being behind the scope of a gun again. Taking someone's life into her hands and being asked to wring it tight. She sighed. Maybe emotion could do something logic couldn't.

"What about Jean?"

She blinked, shoulders falling, "He can't know, either."

"What am I supposed to tell them?"

"That there was no other way. And there isn't. There's no outcome of this where I'm sure to survive. So you need to shift your priorities. Take care of my brother. I'm begging you. I don't want to die, believe me, but I need to know you'll choose him."

Riza stared at her a moment longer. The woman wasn't backing down. She'd faced down scarier foes than the meek and small stature that Amelie owned. Still, the plain desperation struck a chord, "I will."

"Thank you."

"He doesn't blame you anymore, you know."

Amelie stopped turning to leave and could only stare at her blankly, "What?"

"I had your case file brought to him. He knows everything. And he doesn't blame you for what happened. It was a terrible choice you had to make."

Those black eyes were watering over and her jaw was clamped tight.

"When this is done, he and the Fuehrer will exonerate you. I know it. So you'd best be alive for it," she tried to smile.

Amelie scoffed, "You have that much faith in this Fuehrer?"

"He's my grandfather. You'll be safe."

Amelie returned the smile, "That'd be nice," her wistful eyes were staring off into an imagined future. She afforded Riza another look, "I should be going. Thank you."

"I'll see you when this is over."

"Until then."

Jean Havoc watched Amelie from behind. Still in his cargo pants and black turtleneck, she looked so out of place against the gilded marble walls. She was hiding in the shadows. Surveying the grand atrium and looking for anything to help her end the threat. The crowds hadn't started rolling in yet and only a few personnel were setting up tables. Like the press conference, they'd arrived and gotten into place as early as possible to minimize any interaction with the military. Tactical, but Jean appreciated the time alone. They hadn't had much chance to talk since the night before last. He couldn't think of a single thing to say now that he had the time to do so.

She had braided her long white hair and it hung down her back like a waterfall. Unabashedly enamored, Havoc walked up next to her and smiled. She blushed and smiled back, "So brazen," she commented on his swirling emotions. Those black eyes looked like dark diamonds.

"I'm sorry."

She returned her gaze back to the arena, "Don't be. It feels nice. To feel something other than the bad."

"You're nervous?" he asked at her glimmer of fluttering stomach.

"I am."

"I believe in you."

"I know you do."

"The General does, too."

She smiled, "I know he does. And I believe in him," at his furrowed brow, she continued and leaned on a bannister while overlooking the setup, "All those years I was running, I thought his disdain for me was based on one of two things. Either he knew what they'd done to me and he didn't care, or he didn't know and just thought I was a murderer. Just the idea that he might've known and chose the military over me…but I know now that he was ignorant of it. He truly thought I'd just murdered those men. So I can't blame him for how he acted. Not really. And now, he knows. He read the file. He read about what they made me do. So now he gets it. Why I did what I did. Somehow, that makes everything else ok."

He couldn't help but smile at her, "Everything else?"

She shrugged, "Well, not the murders, obviously. But at least he knows it was self-defense."

"That was the reason he charged into that warehouse to rescue you. He knew it was a trap. After what he'd read in Maes' letters, he didn't care."

She remained silent. The distant echoes the of Central Command's clock tower kept him from saying anything until the final chime.

"Everyone will coming in soon. Armstrong and Breda are gonna lead them out the back entrance. Get everyone to safety so it's just us."

She nodded, "Smart."

"Do you feel anything yet?"

Wisps of white hair fell from the braid when she shook her head. Havoc swallowed back some small fear knowing she could feel it and cleared his throat, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What are you plans after this is done?"

She hesitated. He could feel anxiety, sadness. His heart raced and he worried about the rejection he was sure was coming. But she finally put on a brave smile and faced him.

"I'd like to stop running. It would be nice to have a home again. Where ever it may be."

He felt more confident than he had a moment ago, "It'd take time to get a place for you here and I'm sure the General would have you exonerated so while all of that happens you could stay with me."

Her smile didn't fade, "That would be nice."

Armstrong walked past them and gave a not-so-subtle nod. Havoc took the command and walked with Amelie to a small antechamber where she would be hidden while the students and officials meandered in.

His Captain at his side, Roy still felt nervous. So much of the plan would rely on spotty timing and the talents of others. He looked around the abandoned atrium. The tables and chairs were set up. The podium was in place. The military crest hung down from the walls on lush fabric banners. Students and officials were nowhere to be seen. After he'd made the show of shaking hands, congratulating young alchemists, Armstrong led them out of the atrium straight to an adjacent building while using an emergency code for the covert operation which was about to happen. Not for the first time did Roy appreciate the subtleties of military training.

"What do we do now, sir?" Hawkeye asked.

"We wait," he gestured absently.

Havoc and his sister came out from the shadows. Armstrong, Breda and Kain joined them. He looked to the three of them and nodded. They shuffled out of the group. His sister was avoiding eye contact but it seemed she was lost in her own thoughts. He found his own gaze on Hawkeye. His sister had made no secret of her support of a relationship; nothing could be done about it now.

The ground rumbled and he was lurched upward before slamming back down and falling to his rear. Shouts and screams pulled his attention forward. Riza was holding onto a piece of rebar, hanging on the edge of the gaping hole that had opened up the atrium floor. He dashed forward on his belly and reached for her. Only when she was firmly in his grasp did he see Amelie panicking, trying to get a stronger hold on crumbling concrete further in the hole. He couldn't reach her. His hands were both on Riza and moving his grip would mean her fall. Her black eyes met his and he could see visceral fear. His voice was lost. Nothing could be said.

Amelie didn't lose eye contact as her grip faltered. When she fell, Havoc slid and was able to grab the shoulder of her shirt but it wasn't enough. They both went over, silent. Roy looked back to Riza when the concrete he was laying on cracked again. As the others tried to grab at his feet, the floor gave way and his stomach shot up into his throat. Still, he kept his hands tight around his Captain's. The dusty void swallowed them whole.

The fuzziness of dust, debris and a twenty foot fall made his head swim. He heard echoed shouts. Thick drumming in his ears stifled the commotion. The first sight to his eyes was tinged red. Blood oozed from a gash in his forehead. Blonde hair was crimson and he wiped his vision. The slick, free-flowing blood stained his white glove. Elbows against the concrete, he crawled on his belly towards Riza. She was sprawled out, breathing and still, but no blood stained her dust-covered body.

The slow acceleration of chaos made him grab for her and get to his feet. Havoc came up next to him and took the brunt of the chore when Roy staggered. Taking cover behind shattered monoliths of stone and concrete, Roy instinctively shielded the unconscious Captain at the sudden staccato of bullets. His head was on a swivel. Armstrong was bleeding through his uniform but Roy couldn't see any pain etched on the man's face. Breda and Kain were nursing wounds but the former had his side arm out and ready. Havoc was wrapped tight around Amelie next to Hawkeye. The Lieutenant looked unharmed if not a little dazed. Amelie's face was contorted by fear or pain or maybe both. The barrage of bullets halted.

"Come out, General. You and your little alchemist friend!"

He and Amelie stared at each other for a moment. Sparing a look upwards, Roy could see the gaping hole that had been blown into the floor of the building above. Around the cavernous tunnel junction were pocked signs and hastily made marks. No precision. The work of a madman. Everyone flinched when the bullets bit into the concrete again. Roy felt a shift and looked down to see Riza stir. He cradled her tighter for a moment. Blinking herself back to reality, he could see her chocolate eyes take stock through the din.

Riza sat up carefully and Roy could finally form a semblance of a plan. He gestured to Armstrong with a well-known sign among soldiers. In turn, the Lieutenant-Colonel instructed Breda and Kain. He did the same to Jean and Riza. They nodded. The bullets ceased. Jean whispered to Amelie. Before she could react or protest, they all sprang to action.

Armstrong threw a boulder towards Roderick and the others. They scattered and didn't have the discipline to move back into formation. Breda, Kain and Havoc joined the Strongarm in the charge. They passed Roy, Riza and Amelie. Eyes still wide in shock, Amelie searched for his eyes. He didn't give a glance. This was the best chance they had. Physically overwhelming the civilians was their best bet. They all took their shots. The terrorists were reeling backwards and trying to reload clips at the same time. Roy kept his eyes on Roderick. The ringleader was debating whether or not to retreat. Jean and Armstrong were fighting hand to hand. Riza was taking shots as she could in the turmoil. Kain was faster than any of them while Breda moved between outcroppings to take shots. Roderick needed to stay. Roy made a dash for the nearest sigil. Roderick tried to intercept him.

Pain bit into his stomach. Nothing moved except him. He couldn't hear anything. Couldn't feel anything. Roy's existence contracted into the single sharp knot in his middle. He knew Amelie was screaming at him. Even if he couldn't hear it. The floor rushed up and met his back. Air was forced from his lungs. A barrage of bullets whirred in the air and he grabbed at the gunshot wound. His blood soaked his gloves, staining the fabric malicious crimson. Every muscle was locked in a cruel paralysis. Eyes shut rigidly against the world. His jaw hurt from clenching teeth together tight enough to hold back a scream when Amelie's hand met his own and put pressure on the wound. Necessary. Pressure was necessary.

He forced his eyes open. She was right there but her voice sounded so far away. Like he was beneath water. She was reaching down under warm wetness to bring him back up for air but he couldn't find the coordination to assist her. His body was a rock, sinking further beneath the surface with each passing second.

Those eyes…

She was crying…

Damn it!

He took a shuddering, deep breath and felt blood claw up his throat. Torso flexed and made him sit up. Her arm braced him. The haze on his sluggish brain wouldn't let him form words. All he could do was ungracefully cough and watch the blood spatter onto the concrete between bent knees. He knew he had to push her away. Memories…alchemy would set off the array. She had one chance to use her talent and it had to be on Roderick when she was in the circle. The push slid off her shoulder. Couldn't get a grip for all the slick blood on his glove. He settled to just rest his hand on her face. She was warm. Inches away but he couldn't even hear what she was saying.

"Go," he managed to whisper.

Her eyes looked just like a mirror was held to his face. Wide, determined coal against a snowy, wet, white background. Tears ran over the landscape like a waterfall. For him? She was crying for him? Because of him? Her lips moved again and he couldn't hear anything. She wasn't leaving. That mirror went away but she was still there. Her eyes closed. Lips parted without words coming from them. Her skin was glowing. He suddenly realized the barrage of bullets had stopped the moment she'd knelt next to him. She had one arm outstretched and had made a diamond wall. He'd been too dazed to notice. But that meant...

No…

The pain retracted and the creeping cold was held at bay.

No.

Golden light spilled into him and he heard the roar of alchemy all around them as his mind could start focusing again. The wall disintegrated and yet the bullets didn't resume their staccato.

No!

She laid him back down to the ground. Her eyes opened again and they were smiling. She was smiling. The room was spinning purple and he heard distant screams. Black tendrils were clawing and begging for souls. Wind rushed past his ears into the forming abyss. But, she was content.

"I love you, brother," she said, holding his hand against her cheek for a moment longer.

She was saying goodbye. His brow furrowed. A marathon of thoughts pushed to the forefront of his mind and he could feel the ground shudder but she didn't seem to care one bit because she'd used her singular shot at alchemy to heal him when she was the priority regardless of his orders.

She ran. Away towards the transmutation circle. Away from him. Her hand left his and his slipped away from her cherubic cheek and the blood in his fingers ran cold. The black tendrils followed at her heels to consume her. Headlong into the maelstrom, she sprinted; the alchemy that had been activated trailed close behind in a vain attempt to devour her power. He sat up and got to all fours, watching while she ran unfalteringly into the fiery, purple hell that had opened up beneath them.

"Ammy!"

A sharp crack of thunder was the only response he received.

The void was calm. There was a distant rumble, of course - like an ocean at night - but Truth and the Gate were still there. Amelie looked at her faceless welcome and said nothing. There really wasn't anything to say. It had to be done, what she was about to do. She walked past Truth and laid one hand on the Gate. At the very top of the doors, the first signs of distress. The stone was being disassembled and dissipated into nothingness. Roderick's alchemy was already cracking through the void to take the Gate away from Truth.

"Death is your life. That's what you said to me," she recalled.

"I did."

"I wasn't going to survive, was I?" she asked, running her fingers along the inlaid pattern of the stone. More was being eroded away, the top arch almost completely gone and never to return.

"No."

She closed her eyes and tried to remember the images Truth had shown her. Tried to see the scene before her. It looked like something from a play. A woman, long red hair, appeared before the Gate. The doors opened and soft golden light spilled out. A baby, silent but breathing, laying next to her. The baby had jet black hair; an adorable mop of short strands. The woman, her mother, lifted the newborn from the white ground and cradled her for a moment, dotting soft kisses to her forehead and letting tears run softly down her cheeks. She knew. Somehow, her mother knew that she and her baby had to be separated. As the doors stayed open, she put her newborn back onto the ground and stood, walking backwards into the aureate glow. Those tears caught the light of the Gate before it slowly, sadly closed. Still watching, Amelie saw Truth come up to her, curious and intrigued. Reaching down, It picked her up.

Her black hair turned white and she began to cry. A healthy cry. Amelie could only watch in silent awe as Truth held her for a moment before her infant self vanished. Taken back to the living. Born of the Portal, of the Gate and Truth.

"You let her hold me first," she choked out through tears.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

A thick thud interrupted her thought, her revered insight. Looking over her shoulder, Roderick laid sprawled out, face down and coughing while he got hands and knees under himself. His hair shook when he cleared the fog from his mind. Those sharp, cold blue eyes met hers. His shoulders shuddered, his jaw clenched.

"You..," he rasped.

"Me."

"Why did you bring me here?"

His eyes darted between her and the ominous shape of Truth. Breaths came in thin, quick motions. Brows furrowed and his fists clenched.

"You've been here before," she announced her revelation softly to herself. It made sense. Advanced alchemy, done without circles… She'd kept thinking he'd hidden a transmutation circle somewhere on himself, but now it fit nicely together, "You tried human transmutation. That picture in your journal…it's of your family."

"That picture is all I have left."

"You tried to bring them back. But you're intact. The Gate didn't take a toll?"

"A man who yearned for his family now remembers nothing of their love, only their faces," Truth sneered.

Amelie stared at Roderick; her heart broke, "Your memories. Truth took your memories."

Roderick stood, "I remembered enough, at first. I knew their names, that I loved them. Each day, I forgot more of them. I wrote it down. And I swore that I would get my memories back. I would kill the man who killed them; maybe then I could have some peace."

Eyes inward, she scoffed, "You thought Roy killed them."

"Thought?" he spat out incredulously, "My family was burned alive! Who else would have done it?"

She shook her head; her mind searched her brother's memories. Those faces weren't there. He'd killed so many that had been on the front lines, attacking him and his men. But never families. He'd never snapped aimlessly. Every building he torched, he searched for the victims. Walking through ash and soot to ensure his conscience was clear. No women. No children. Soldiers only. Every building, just make sure he could sleep at night.

"My brother didn't kill your family."

If he was surprised at the relation, his disbelief clouded it, "Lies! You'd say anything to protect him!"

She shook her head, "I transmuted his soul. After Ishbal. I remember every face he killed, every home he engulfed. Your family isn't there. He wasn't even in that part of the district."

"That's not possible."

"I'm sorry, but he's not the man you thought he was. And now, I've transmuted your soul. I have your memories, even if you don't."

"You what?"

Her feet bid her closer. He shifted uncomfortably when she stood within arms reach, "When I transmute someone, I have their memories forever. Yours…aren't what you think they are."

"You remember?"

She smiled, feeling emotions and nostalgia for times that didn't belong to her, "I do. Your children. Your wife. They loved you so much."

Roderick could only stare at her, mouth agape and eyes blinking away the tears he wanted to shed, "If it wasn't the Flame, who was it?"

Her eyes lowered and she clenched her jaw, "I can give you your memories back, Roderick."

He blinked a few times, "Why? Why would you help me?"

"Because I need your help in return," a soft crumble made her look to the Gate. It was still dissolving, the ragged edge of the top coming down further moment by moment. Roderick followed her eyes. She didn't look back for a moment, "Your transmutation has started to destroy the Gate and Truth's connection. When the Gate is gone, mankind will be stuck in limbo. Alive and in agony. Souls ripped from bodies without an anchor to help guide them onwards and find peace. The world as we know it will end. All because you did something reckless out of misguided revenge."

"How do I know you're telling me the truth?" he sneered at her.

Without warning, she reached across the small space between them and pressed her hands on his head around his temples. He screamed, light pouring into him and leaving her. She felt cold creep in where once had been comforting warmth. Pulling back, she staggered and he fell to all fours.

His body was quivering, shaking, barely able to hold himself up. Those blue eyes were wide and overflowing with tears. The years of lost memories were rushing back in like a flood and filling caverns of time. Not just his own, but now hers. Her knowledge of Roy and Maes, and of those men and women she'd transmuted and killed. All of that pressing itself into every nook and cranny of his mind.

"I…I was a State Alchemist," he rasped.

She nodded, "It was a mob. Your wife…she refused to leave Ishbal and when people found out she was married to a State Alchemist…" she met his eyes when he looked up, begging her not to continue.

"I got my family killed…" he sobbed, gazing to her for some kind of absolution she couldn't give. His eyes then looked to the dissolving stone, "What have I done?"

"I can fix it. But I don't know what will happen to me. I need you to…to pass on a message if I don't make it back from here."

Truth walked closer, "You wish to undo his toll?"

"I do. For this to work," she turned her attention to Truth wholly, "I need everyone back. If they can anchor me, I might be able to pull this off."

"You're asking for all of them? Your debt will outweigh your coffers."

"It's that, or we all stop existing."

Truth hesitated. Roderick was still lurching at the inundation of memories, eyes locked on the stone facade in front of him. Amelie knew what Truth would decide, but knew she couldn't force it. Her goal was ambitious to say the least. But it made sense to her. Made sense to Truth. Finally, Roderick turned that lost, hollow stare to her, focusing.

"What are you going to do to stop this?"

She sighed and knelt down in front of him, "Truth gave me life. I can give it back. Death is my life. Through death, I can give back life. Through the deaths I've caused, there's a chance for me to live."

"You'll die?"

"I don't know. But, when you get back to that fight, you need to stop all of this. You need to repair this country. You have the power to help."

His jaw clenched, "You said I had to pass on a message?"

"Yes. If my brother survives his wounds, if Lieutenant Havoc is still alive, you need to make sure they know that I forgive you. Tell them that you are bound to me - that you must be unharmed for me to do my work. And give them this," she pulled the dented, silver pocket watch from her pants and gingerly placed it in Roderick's hands. She swallowed back tears, "Tell my brother that he needs this now if he's to continue with his goals."

"I'll tell them."

Holding his hand for a moment longer, she swallowed back her own fear and exhaled softly, "Your memories aren't pleasant, but you need them to help heal yourself and this country. Remember that your family never hated you; that they never stopped loving you. That's the only way you'll find peace."

He held her gaze and nodded. She gave a weak smile and turned away. Walking to the Gate, she clenched her jaw and leaned forward into her transmutation. She took a deep inhale, letting her shoulders slink downward as she let go of everything the Gate had ever told her was undeniable Truth.

Both palms she laid flat against the stone. Her body hummed and the golden light at her fingertips spread. Everything was made from everything, and she and the Gate and Truth were no exception. Anything could be transmuted into anything…even stone and bodies and energy and the void had the same building blocks. They were all one and each one of them, all. In a crashing wave, her heart beat hard in her chest and her mind was swallowed up by all that had passed before into the Gate - the souls of everyone found a new home in her. Against the maelstrom, her focus shifted and she reached behind her, offering her other hand to Truth. Faceless and featureless, It smiled. The hand she offered, It took. The knowledge of everything which hadn't yet come to light sought refuge in her. A conduit, energy surged through her between the two entities. Everything that had come before met everything that wasn't yet solidified. The golden glow from her palm on the Gate reached outwards to cover each molecule of the stone and pulled back into her body. The same happened to Truth; the two ends met in the middle and she felt euphoria like she'd never felt before. This was her alchemy. It was life.