[A/N] : I hate the formatting of this site. It doesn't let me use strike-through texts, ugh.

Anyway, the texts inside brackets in the chapter prologue were meant to be striked-through, because they're too damaged for Soul to read.


Chapter 3 : Old Buildings Tend to Collapse


[I left a message for her.]

[She will find you two eventually.]

[When she does, please explain everything to her and your brother.]

[Take them as far away as you can and don't come back to this country.]

[Live your own lives and please be happy.]

[She will know how to keep you and your brother safe.]

This is a selfish request from a sinful woman.

I know I don't deserve anything from you two, but please, please, protect that child.

I wish nothing for myself, just for that child.

Please, protect her.


Maka didn't talk to him.

They were falling back to square one, when she had completely ignored him and he had been making sarcastic comments just to get any sort of reaction out of her.

No, that was not quite right, actually. Maka still responded to him, but only in quiet nods or headshakes, and she'd stopped looking at him in the eye.

He hadn't known her long enough to understand that it was her way of dealing with things that upset her.

Soul sighed inwardly, craving Wes' presence to confide in. He was taken aback by how much he actually missed her voice. It always brought him a sort of calmness, even when all she said consisted of incoherent rambling about alchemy and modern technologies, which he was utterly incapable of understanding 80% of the time.

He hadn't expected her to be this upset over his decision, and he couldn't even imagine why she'd be upset in the first place. Quoting from Mrs. Kamiko herself, he was arguably the most evolutionarily advanced human being alchemy could produce this century; the military's secret hot commodity. Not to brag, but he was sure any alchemist in their right mind would be exhilarated to have him under their command, a fact proven by how fierce the competition had been between the State Alchemists to be the head of the Black Blood project, or even just their struggle to get in on the research team.

'Ungrateful brat.'

'Shut up.'

Still, Maka wasn't like any other State Alchemist he had encountered. She was curious and hungry for knowledge, yes, but she was a kind soul; the only person who treated him as a decent human being despite knowing his secret and race. The only one besides Mrs. Kamiko.

Maybe she really didn't agree with his decision. Maybe he had interpreted her answer wrong.

But if he had, then why didn't she correct him? Or at least talk about it?

They were in their room, still separated by her transmuted wall. The sound of pen on paper told him she was in her travel notes again. She mentioned nothing about locating the Dublith lab or making a plan to do so, contrasting her haste in Rashville. Or maybe she was just avoiding talking to him.

Soul glanced at the wall again and grimaced. He even missed her scowl when he called her a nerd.

He sat up from the God-given Thing and padded to her side of the wall, knocking on it softly.

"Hey…"

She didn't give any sign of surprise, maybe because of that strange perception ability she shared with her mother. She hummed flatly, her eye corner glanced at his feet.

"You know that abusing those notes won't bring the rest of your mother's research here, right?"

She grunted. Okay, bad choice of words.

"Fungus will grow out of your head if you keep doing that, nerd."

Bad choice, dammit.

She growled at her pen, making him wince. Scratching the back of his neck, he nervously sat down on her made bed. Sarcasm would get him nowhere. Grumbling to his own brain, he tried to figure out how to start a fucking normal and healthy conversation. Why was this whole speaking thing always a fucking challenge?

'Which you suck at.'

'Well, aren't you a little ray of sunshine?'

They sat in silence for a while. An hour, probably, or two, who knew. The only things breaking the deafening silence were Maka's pen and Blair's occasional meows.

Oh, fuck it.

"Are you angry?"

Maka flinched, but still didn't face him. "No. Why would I be?"

"Maka," Soul sighed, "You're not looking at me."

Her writing stopped. She turned her chair to face him and glared viciously. "Fine! Now what?"

Oh, her scowl was back. He smiled despite himself, even if it was closer to a grumpy person with toothache than a sign of happiness.

"You don't want me to protect you."

It was not a question, and both of them knew it was true.

"I don't need to be protected," she said finally .

"But you let me."

Maka struggled with her own words, opening and closing her mouth a few times, but in the end she just repeated her previous words with a deflated tone. "I don't need to be protected."

"Even if it's your mother's wish?"

"That's exactly why!" Maka shouted, standing with her fists trembling on her sides as she cursed to no one.

"Why?"

"Urgh! Why is this suddenly so important to you?!"

"Because I wanna know what you're thinking, Maka."

This seemed to halt all of her anger altogether. She wrinkled her face at her innocent cat before slowly sliding her gaze somewhere behind him, fist scrubbing one of her eyes in frustration.

"This is stupid…"

But Soul could feel a little spark of hope that she was beginning to open up, because she was leaning forward and sitting beside him. He waited patiently, carefully keeping his and his Demon's mouths shut, giving her all the time she needed like how she had done for him.

"I just… I let you because you said it was her wish, and I want to believe that—that she had a reason to do it…" she started, her voice suspiciously thick. "But the more I think about it, however hard I deny the possibility, the more I can't stop thinking that she destroyed your and your brother's lives on purpose! Like she was making a shield—or weapon, whatever—for me all along! All of this, from leading me to the Death City to that message she left behind in Rashville, it was meant for us to meet! For you and your brother to eventually be my bodyguards or whatever!"

She was right, of course. It was a very Mrs. Kamiko thing to do. Everything she did was always a part of a bigger plan.

She loved her little faceless girl so much, after all.

And he was not her son.

"I just—you don't have to do this, Soul… I'm a stranger to you!"

True. But nothing could keep him from hating that fact.

"I'm… I'm sorry…" she whispered to her knees, not exactly giving an explanation of what she was apologizing for.

He wore that toothache grin again, "Don't be."

She gave him a cynical look. "You can live your own life without following me as if—as if you owe me something, or telling yourself that you must do everything my Mama said, you know?"

Also true. But not quite.

"While it's true I feel inclined to fulfill Mrs. Kamiko's request, I also have my own reasons, Maka."

She lifted her face at him, skeptical but curious. Ah, finally they met eye-to-eye. He almost forgot how green and round her eyes were.

"I want to protect you…"

The 'why' she spoke with her eyes was louder than if she'd say it aloud. Soul's hand automatically found the back of his neck, rubbing it without his awareness.

"Because… because you searched for me."

"Huh?"

"At that church…" his mouth ran on its own, "You could just go on your way without looking back. Especially after I told you the locations. You didn't need me anymore. And—and I kinda make you irritated and uncomfortable, I know. But you looked for me."

She didn't say anything and he abandoned her eyes to stare at his own fists, but there was a soft gasp from her direction.

"And you held my hands," he continued, voice dropping even lower as he went on, "You make me feel like—like I'm not alone. And you anchored me. I think your mother was onto something when she said I should stay with you."

'You know, that sounded suspiciously like a confession.'

Oh fuck, it did.

"I…" Maka trailed off, unsure what to reply, and Soul wished he had teleportation skills so he could bury himself in the nearest cemetery at that exact second. He really should stop making a fool out of himself, seriously.

"I did it because… because I couldn't hate you."

It was his turn to be flabbergasted.

"Trust me, I still want to punch the living daylight out of you for speaking nonsense about my Mama," she growled, making him grin nervously, "But for the life of me, I can't bring myself to truly hate you…"

She stared at something on his chest, making his self-consciousness skyrocket. He silently begged for her to shift her eyes to any other goddamn direction except him because he could feel his ears scorching.

Without warning, she placed her hand above his heart (he prayed to the gods to please not let her notice his frantic heartbeat), her eyes were still anchored on his chest as she said under her breath, "Your soul is so pure."

When she finally raised her face, their eyes met, and Soul didn't understand how he could have not realized that she was that close. The heat around his ears bled to the back of his neck. And his entire face, probably. Everything was coming to a complete standstill. Even his own breath was frozen.

He felt funny.

Then there was someone slamming the door.


"Maka!"

A loud shout of her name interrupted whatever weird atmosphere that was thickening between them. Both of them yelped back to either side of the bed. Maka couldn't decide whether she was angry or grateful for the interruption.

"Maka! You have a guest!" BJ's muffled voice echoed again.

"Guest?" Determined to keep her face schooled, she exchanged a glance with Soul. "I'll be there in a second!" she shouted to the innkeeper.

A swift check with her perception told her it was Kid. Oh, snap, she completely forgot they were going to this inn in the first place to meet Kid. Intending to dismiss the previous whatever-it-was between her and Soul, she cleared her throat and turned the doorknob.

"It's Kid."

Soul's former embarrassment was suddenly replaced by uneasiness. "You mean the Reaper?"

Maka smiled apologetically at his strained face. Having gotten used to her and accepted her occupation as a State Alchemist didn't mean he would do the same for other people. Not to mention Kid was a soldier in active duty, unlike her, who wouldn't wear a uniform unless she was assigned to a war.

"It's okay." More confidently this time, she took his hand and squeezed it, now knowing that the gesture was proficient in giving him support and reassurance.

Soul squeezed back, but was still unwilling to go. Maka tried again, pulling him gently. "Do you remember when I said I'll be your emotional support?"

He grumbled, but his cheeks were tinting and he was standing.


"But I wanna see Maka too, Kiiiiid!"

Refraining to press on his temple, Kid reasoned with the younger Thompson patiently. "Yes, Patty, but Major General Albarn assigned you and Ford to assist Major Yumi during her investigation here."

Patricia Thompson pouted, "I don't wanna go with Azusa, she's mean!"

Mean wouldn't describe Major Azusa Yumi quite as well as 'disciplined', truthfully. The strict senior officer was the one usually tasked with training military snipers, currently being the best sniper in the military. Patty undoubtedly had more than a few bad experiences during her training with the Major, considering the Sergeant's incredibly pitiful performance at long-range shooting.

Fortunately, Liz decided it was the perfect time to enter the office and reason with her sister fondly. Kid wasn't sure of her method, but five minutes later Patty announced that she would guard the Major voluntarily. Miraculous.

After shooing Patty to her assigned spot, Kid glanced at Harv, who was pushing a button on his radio and holding his earpiece closer.

"Everything's good, Sir."

Kid nodded. Finally.

He advised Liz against bringing her rifle. They wouldn't go to a battle, after all. Just to check on Maka. The Lieutenant sulked, grumbling something about being ready for unpredictable situations, but Kid suspected that she was just enjoying the thought of intimidating Maka's new companion.

The reason why he chose BJ's inn Mandailing as their meeting spot was because the innkeeper himself had an ill opinion of the military as a whole, which was why he enjoyed providing a safe haven for anyone with secret agendas and wouldn't divulge his customer list to the authorities even when presented by an Amestrian Silver Dragon badge.

Kid parked his car behind Mandailing Inn and stepped out, followed by a still-sulking Liz and a flat-faced-as-usual Harvar. They used the back door, of course, as the front of the inn was a quite popular diner. The innkeeper entered the kitchen right after them, carrying a crate full of liquor.

"And I thought you had forgotten your own appointment," he said after taking a look at his kitchen intruders.

Kid gave him a dirty look. "Contrary to popular belief, Joe, I am a busy man."

BJ smirked, setting down his crate. "Could've fooled me."

The Colonel clicked his tongue, "Could you please just go and get Maka?"

"Okay, okay! Gosh, really… Could have at least brought a sack of good coffee beans as payment, but nooo—" the innkeeper's grumbling faded as he exited through the opposite door and climbed upstairs.

They waited in silence. Liz was currently examining BJ's liquor cellar while Harvar just stood there without showing any interest in the kitchen whatsoever. Truthfully Kid had been meaning to go by himself, but Maka's nervous voice in their previous phone call made him a little uneasy. The quick news Kilik reported after he'd told him to check on Maka's trail also put him on edge. There was something unusual about the Grigori Alchemist's new companion.

"Kid!"

He automatically raised his head at his name, very glad to confirm that Maka really was okay with his own two eyes. He didn't have the chance to reply before Liz crushed Maka into her chest like she always did.

"Maaaakaaaaa! You rascal, we told you to report immediately, did we? I was dying from anxiety waiting for your call! Don't you ever do that again! Patty and I were worried sick about you!"

Maka made muffled noises from Liz's chest, and Kid had to pull his Lieutenant back before she suffocated the poor girl to death.

"Liz, she can't breathe."

As if having just realized it, Liz let Maka go a little too fast. "Oh, whoops!"

Maka swayed backwards, but was immediately caught by a firm hand behind her. That was when the three soldiers noticed another presence for the first time.

He was a tall man (almost as tall as Harvar, who was the tallest in Kid's team, but his slouching made the difference more noticeable), with spiky white hair and a pair of glinting sunglasses perched on his nose bridge. He had a hostile atmosphere about him, and Kid didn't know if it was his alchemist instinct or what, but there was something wrong with this guy.

"Oh! Thank you, Soul," Maka said as he let go of her.

Liz was scrutinizing the new guy with that same intimidating look she sported when interrogating a suspect. Probably sensing a rude comment forming inside Liz's mouth, Maka turned to Kid and introduced her new companion with a-little-too-quickly-formed smile.

"Soul, this is Colonel Kristopher Morton—or you can call him Kid," Kid nodded at Maka's introduction. "Kid, this is Soul."

Unintentionally, Kid noticed that Maka and her new companion were standing surprisingly close. He didn't even detect any discomfort radiating from Maka as she leaned even closer and whispered something to Soul.

Wait—were they holding hands?

Very uncharacteristic of Maka Albarn. The girl usually treated physical contact with the opposite gender as something akin to a virus infection.

"This is Liz Thompson, and that guy over there is Harvar D'éclair." Kid vaguely heard Maka resume the introductions as he continued to observe her strange behavior. He barely noticed Liz's displeased huff and Harv's quiet nod. What could have possibly happened between Maka and Soul for her to be this relaxed around him? Kid mused, even with him, Maka was still kept her distance sometimes, and they had known each other for over twelve years.

Those thoughts were forced to the back of his mind, however, as his observation shifted to the boy—to Soul.

Soul glanced at them warily. His posture somehow reminded Kid of a trained soldier despite the visible slouching; the dark eyes behind those sunglasses gave him away. Kid frowned inwardly. It was rude of him to think this way, but the boy's eyes were like an abused dog's looking at potential threats. Also, there was just this odd thing about him Kid still couldn't place.

His gaze fell onto the accessory on Soul's nose when it clicked.

"Is there a reason why you're wearing sunglasses?"

He didn't miss the way he and Maka exchanged a brief look and how her hand seemed to tighten its hold. Finally, with something that could only be described as an exasperated sigh, Soul took off his sunglasses to reveal a pair of deep red eyes. Bingo.

Out of habit, Liz and Harvar tensed beside him. Couldn't be helped, since 60% of Ishvalans they'd encountered throughout their career were either radical haters of the military or downright terrorists. But Kid still maintained his calm posture.

"You didn't tell me he's an Ishvalan."

Maka's eyes darkened, subtly shifting her body to shield the Ishvalan boy. "Is there a problem with that?"

Kid was baffled at her sudden defiance. It was only—what? Two weeks?—since she claimed to have met the Ishvalan boy, but she was already oddly protective of him.

"No."

"Then you could command your subordinates to put their hands away from their pistols."

It was Harvar she was talking about, no doubt, because he was as grim as a funeral and the only way to associate him with any form of happiness was the word 'trigger-happy'. Besides, Kid knew, despite her unfriendly demeanor towards the boy, Liz trusted Maka deeply enough to lower her guard immediately when she saw how Maka protected him.

"Harv?"

Without a sound, Harv tucked his revolver back to its holster. Maka relaxed a bit, but Soul still looked uncomfortable and eyed each of them with partly-covered hostility. Something told Kid he was glad he hadn't worn his transmutation gloves to Dublith that morning.

"Okay, I met them. Can I go now?" Soul grumbled to Maka in a low voice, but not low enough to escape his ears.

Maka pursed her lips and frowned, but let the boy go after one look at him. Soul wasted no time in climbing the stairs and getting the hell out of their sights. Maka sighed and turned her gaze upwards, to where Kid supposed was the direction of Soul's room.

"What's with him?" Liz clicked her tongue, offended.

Maka waved her hand weakly. "Nothing, he's just not the most sociable person."

Harv snorted. "No wonder you get along well." Maka responded with a growl.

Liz snickered behind her fist, but after clearing her throat, added, "But seriously, I don't like his attitude! Maka needs someone gentler!"

"What are you? His mother-in-law?" Harv commented.

Maka ignored both of the Lieutenants and talked to Kid instead, eyebrows furrowed slightly in something close to anxiety. "Kid, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," he eyed Liz and Harv, who immediately went back to their serious mode. Liz was a little hesitant, but finally relented, nodding sharply and trailing behind Harvar to get on with their other business with BJ.

Kid followed Maka up the stairs, turning the opposite way Soul had vanished to earlier, heading towards another set of stairs to the third floor, which they knew was empty and perfect for private talks.

"What's wrong, Maka?"

She made a move that was close to fidgeting, but that couldn't be, Maka Albarn didn't fidget.

"It's about Soul."

Figured. "What about him?"

They arrived at the third floor balcony. Kid leaned against the railing, staring down to the quiet outskirts of Dublith. Maka followed his example but turned her back to the scenery.

"Soul's not a normal human," finally, she mumbled.

Kid quirked his brow, "And what do you mean by that?"

Maka's not-fidgeting transformed into soft taps of her foot, "Would you believe me if I said he can change into a weapon?"

"Maka, neither I nor you are normal and we are considered human weapons."

"Yeah, but he's like—a literal weapon, Kid!" her arms flailed as she tried to explain. "He can change his arm into a steel blade without any circles or arrays whatsoever! He doesn't even do any specific moves!"

What?

"What?!" he blurted his thoughts out loud. "That's impossible!"

"Exactly my first reaction," she laughed weakly, "And he has two souls."

Two what?!

"Two what?!" Okay, his mouth was losing its creativity.

"Two souls," Maka repeated, uncomfortable. "It's like… something artificial, I don't know, I've never seen a person with two souls before."

"Figures, yeah," Kid muttered automatically, still bewildered by the sheer ridiculousness of what Maka had just said.

Two souls meant that there was a way to somehow divide a being's sulfur concentration and prevent the two parts to mesh together, which, as an alchemist who specialized in the balance of Tria Prima, Kid could confidently say was utterly impossible.

"He said… that it was Mama who made him into a weapon," Maka spoke through her tightened jaw, interrupting his thoughts, "That—that Mama had experimented on humans for years…"

"Excuse me?!"

"During the civil war," she continued blabbing as if not hearing his interjection, "Soul said they kidnapped many Ishvalan children and used them as lab animals for some kind of black project [1]."

"What in the name of symmetry—"

"What if he's right?" Maka whispered to her knuckles, again ignoring his reaction. "What if he's right, Kid?"

Kid hated the fact that it was probable. A thought about a handsome collection of illegal experiment files inside his office desk popped into his mind, and that they could very well be suggesting the very idea Maka had just voiced. God.

Kid dodged the question, "Is that why you're so eager to locate all of her remaining labs?"

Maka just sent him a pained look.

The Colonel grimaced. Of course he knew what Maka was feeling. He had known the first Grigori Alchemist in person, after all. The idea of a noble scientist such as Mrs. Kamiko doing something as immoral as experimenting on humans was blasphemous. For Maka, protecting her mother's good name was her first instinct. But Kid couldn't conveniently ignore his own findings about traces of animal—and human—transmutation that were centered around Mrs. Kamiko, which were so auspiciously starting to leak right after her death.

He sighed, "I could never assure you of something I don't fully know, Maka. But what I can tell you is to believe in the mother you admire. Not very helpful, I know, but if she was the same kind woman you have loved all your life, you can always have the faith that all she did was for a good cause, and if you find something bad, you'll still have the strength to search for the bigger truth."

The girl made an expression between a smile and a grimace. Kid patted her head. "Now quit moping around. Your mercury is fluctuating wildly and you know how I feel about balance."

She laughed, "A sound soul dwells in a sound mind and a sound body?"

Kid smiled at the recitation of his catchphrase. "Right."

They continued to talk about her findings in the Rashville lab, and reached an agreement that Maka would only go search for one more lab before coming back to Gallows Hill. After a while, she added rather reluctantly, "Could you—could you make Soul a legal identity? You know, so we could travel in peace?"

"Am I hearing Miss Grigori Alchemist suggesting the idea of forging an official document to a Colonel?" He threw her an incredulous look, but both of them were smiling.


Maka found Soul humming a foreign song while sitting on their room's windowsill, staring down at the quiet city of Dublith. Blair was perching on his shoulder, tail swaying.

"Until when do you plan on sulking?"

He spun his head, eyes lightening when he found her, but his face was wrinkling in mild disgust. "They're soldiers," he said, as if it was a proper answer.

"I thought you already knew that."

Soul grunted as Blair jumped on his leg. "That didn't mean I was more prepared to meet them."

"Me too, you know." At his confusion, she smiled a little wryly, "I'm a Dog of the Military."

Soul growled a disagreement almost instantly, "You're different!"

"Different how?" she chided, approaching him and shooing his legs off of the large windowsill. Soul put down the leg that didn't have Blair on it, freeing up more room for her to sit. It was lost to both of them that they were sitting so close without feeling any kind of discomfort.

"You don't go around intimidating people, and you never use your title to gain power or bully civilians."

Maka snorted, "You don't know that."

"I know," he stubbornly objected.

Maka stared at him in wonder. While she understood the reason behind his demeanor, she still couldn't understand why he was so determined to keep her on a pedestal. She knew she wasn't that kind of a person. She just did what she thought was right. Well, maybe slightly more, but she was sure she never did anything incredible enough to earn that much respect, especially from a person she barely knew.

She was just Maka Albarn, a normal human, not the Angel of Death.

"Thank you," she finally said, but she couldn't see his reaction, as he hid his eyes behind his bangs and was staring out of the window, although his ears were suspiciously darkening.

"But they're good people, Soul."

Soul grumbled something incomprehensible.

Two weeks of traveling together with Soul told her he hated the military with a passion, even if he didn't show it that openly. Understandable, given his background, but she was hoping he would be willing to give Kid and his subordinates a chance since they were her friends. Maka grumbled. Liz's mother-henning made everything worse. If he continued to act this way towards every soldier they met, there would be many awkward situations forming because at least 80% of her friends were associated with the military.

Maka sighed inwardly. There was no use in forcing him to trust her friends. He just had to see it for himself and build the trust slowly, then. Trust develops with time, anyway.

Wait a minute, since when had she started thinking that she would keep him permanently? Maka groaned to herself. It was his fault for declaring that stupid vow.

Wanting to distract herself, Maka suddenly chimed, "Okay, let's stop thinking about that. Now why don't you tell me what name you like?"

"Name?"

"Yeah, for your official document," Maka nodded eagerly. "You need a last name."

"Oh… A last name," he repeated in silent amazement, staring at her as if she was about to give him the most fascinating gift or something.

Maka felt her blood rushing to her face at the intensity of his gaze. Pursing her lips and clearing her throat, she forced her tone to stay normal, even when her voice was slightly higher than she intended, "Yeah! I mean, we can go with 'Soul' as your first name—even if it's a little ridiculous—but Amestrians have last names too! So, is there anything you specifically like, or?"

Soul appeared as if he wanted to say something, but kept silent, so instead of him, it was Blair who answered with a delighted meow.

Maka scowled at her pet, "No, no, Blair, we can't use that. And no, it's not you we're finding a new last name for." The cat protested, growling. "You're my pet cat, if there's any last name you'll go with, it's Albarn!" A few sharp yowls followed. "Well, I'm deeply sorry, Your Majesty, but your underworld title has nothing to do with the rules in our house!"

Soul chuckled, stopping their interspecies bickering. Maka and Blair blinked at him before joining the snickers. Well, it was her that joined the snickering, as Blair was only purring cheerful noises. Cats don't snicker.

"So, any thoughts?"

Soul brought his hand to his chin in a mock-thinking manner, "Hmmmm… Soul Eater?"

Maka smacked his arm, which was met with a laugh by Soul. Blair happily joined in by pawing his chest repeatedly. "Take this seriously, will you?"

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" he gasped between laughs and punches. "Stop smacking me!"


"Hey, Star!"

"Yo, Kilik! 'Sup, bro!" Black Star caught the Major's hand. "How're the twins?" Metals clinked when they did their complicated bro-shake.

"You heard them," replied Kilik, peeling his gloves off, revealing a pair of automail arms. He raised the left one to the engineer. "Thunder's a bit whiny. She got bumped bad when I went chimera-hunting yesterday."

Black Star tilted his head, inspecting the automail with the tip of his tongue sticking out. Kilik's twins were one of his first creations, and still one of the best to date; two northern style steel arms with alchemical arrays engraved at the back of their palms. The left one was carved with the 'thunder' alchemy circle and the right with 'fire'.

"Looks like she needs some readjusting. I'll take her for tonight."

Kilik complained, "Awww, I hate wearing spares."

He snickered as he pulled out a screwdriver to detach Thunder. Kilik cringed when he screwed off the nerve bolts. Within a minute, Thunder was off, leaving the Major with only a right hand. Tsubaki came in from the shop's back door with his lunch on a tray, chiming a greeting to Kilik as she swiped various gears and automail parts off of the table to make room for the food. Black Star peeked at the table. Lamb stew and Brussel sprouts gratin, complete with homemade bread and an enormous jug of pomegranate juice. Sniffing the heavenly aroma was enough to make him drool. Wasting no time, he abandoned Kilik to wolf the food down.

Man, it was glorious. Tsubaki's cooking was on the divine level, as always.

"Would you like to eat as well, Kilik?" his wife asked the Major when he swatted Fire away from his precious bread.

Knowing that Black Star wouldn't continue his work before his stomach was satisfied (of course), Kilik answered with a sigh, "Might as well get a bite myself, I guess. Thanks, Tsubaki."

Tsubaki got back with more food and a warm cherry pie (had he married a goddess?), sitting down and smiling at both men as they competed to devour the food.

"Did Maka already call you guys?" Kilik suddenly said between chews.

"Well, yes, after she got back to Amestris, but she didn't call again after that. So, to be honest, I'm worried. Did she call the colonel?" Tsubaki replied more clearly, as what Black Star could give was an incoherent mumbling because his mouth was full of stew and bread.

"She really has to fix that bad habit of hers," Kilik shook his head, ripping a slice of bread apart and dipping it into the stew. "Well, yeah. She reported before our military drill started."

Black Star's spoon stopped, but it was Tsubaki who answered with a jab of worry both of them undoubtedly felt, "No new calls?"

"No, but Kid checked on her yesterday. She's okay." Tsubaki's relieved exhale was a louder echo of Black Star's own. Kilik continued with his mouth full of lamb chops, "She's in BJ's place now. Still with her new friend, apparently."

"Oh?" Black Star made an amused noise. It was a very rare occurrence for Maka to stand being next to a male over five minutes without combusting, let alone two whole weeks. It must be an intergalactic record, because world record wouldn't represent this feat quite as well. "Now I'm really interested in knowing this guy."

"Well, Liz keeps saying he's not a right man for Maka, whatever that means," Kilik said with a wolfish grin. Tsubaki giggled, taking a slice of pie that his husband offered. (Contrary to popular belief, Black Star wouldn't selfishly take all the food to himself. Of course he would share with his woman, what kind of man did you took him for?) "She ranted about how bad his posture and attitude was, that he's a rude man with punk-ass getup and creepy sharp teeth. But Kid said Maka liked him, though. They were so suspiciously close for a new acquaintance level."

"Really?" his wife practically glowed at the prospect of a 'male friend' for their sister. They both had always been a little worried that Maka would never find someone. The young alchemist had never enjoyed the thought of romantic love, especially after witnessing what old man Spirit did all her life. Well, sometimes it was just a perfect excuse Black Star needed to harass her by setting her up on a blind date (the Second Lieutenant Ford one was still his masterpiece).

"Yeah, Kid never said it clearly, but he implied that they were holding hands," Kilik whispered conspiratorially at Tsu, making her glow brighter. Black Star rolled his eyes. Honestly he had forgotten how Kilik could be such a gossip when he wanted to. "Oh, and he's also an Ishvalan, it seems."

Black Star's spoon clinked against his plate as his movements faltered for a second. He was still staring at his stew, but he could feel Tsubaki's eyes briefly fly to him in worry.

He felt his lips forming an emotionless smile.

"Ishvalan, huh?"


Kid stared at the newly forged document in his hand. Maka's new companion finally had a 'legal' citizenship under the name 'Soul Evans'. They spent three hours on the phone arguing about an absurd amount of weird names before Kid kindly reminded her that a normal name would be best.

He couldn't do anything about his race, however, because even though Maka did a good job in dressing him like a common Amestrian, the boy's appearance was still absolutely Ishvalan. Even so, Kid did write his ancestry as mixed-race. As a part-Amestrian, at least Soul had more of a chance to avoid further trouble if he happened to bump into a soldier in the future, because pure-blooded Ishvalans often got the short end of Amestrian's racist laws.

Changing those laws would be one of his top priorities when he finally got the highest seat.

"Colonel!" Second Lieutenant Ford knocked on the open door with a serious expression, adjusting his glasses.

"Ford." Kid put Soul's document down and nodded to him. "So? How was it?"

Ford gave him a rather thick document. "I'm afraid it's like what you said, Sir."

He flipped those papers impatiently, frowning. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I, Sir, but that's what I got. I can't go further without alarming the higher-ups, this is the black project we're talking about," Ford adjusted his glasses again with half-concealed exasperation.

Kid pursed his lips, "I understand. I'll try to find another way for us to gather information. Good work, Ford."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Oh, and put this document into the database."

The Second Lieutenant took the papers curiously, inspecting Soul's portrait. "Oho, is this Miss Grigori's infamous new sidekick?"

Kid nodded, "The very one."


Despite promising that he would protect her, Soul didn't have any real chances to prove it, since their travels were mostly uneventful, thankfully. But that was until they reached the West Province's border.

The town they were resting in was filled by shifty people and various kinds of criminals, like all the towns in the western rural area were; where war victims mingled with poor people and were eventually pushed by the conditions to allow anything to make a living, including deceiving newcomers and robbing travelers.

Maka was scrutinizing the large map outside a tiny rundown train station, trying to figure which way to go back to Gallows Hill and locate a place where they could find some food, while Soul was curiously examining a parked motorcycle (a terrible way to travel, Maka thought, but Soul unfortunately was fascinated by those hideous machines) on the station's almost empty parking lot.

She didn't know what was happening until she felt her body slammed roughly on the nearest wall, a knife on her neck.

Why did things like this always happen when she closed off her perception?

"Did your Mommy never tell you it's dangerous to walk by yourself in strange towns, little girl? You give me no choice but to rob you!" the man holding the knife grinned madly.

Maka sighed. She was hungry and tired and honestly couldn't bring herself to care about any thievery. Also, gosh, this guy had a bad breath.

Wrinkling her nose, she raised her wallet and was just about to smack the thief with it when the man in question shrilled and fearfully cast his eyes down. A red and black blade had impaled his stomach.

Maka gaped as Soul pulled his blade out of the guy's body without emotion, staring as the thief writhed pitifully on his feet. He raised his arm again for another blow, but this time Maka was alert enough to leap forward and stop him.

"Soul! What are you doing?!"

Soul raised one of his brows as if stating the obvious, "I'm protecting you."

Maka opened her mouth but was too shocked to immediately reply. The thief weaseled away from them while Soul's attention was on her, stumbling on his own feet and screaming as he wobbled away, her wallet lying forgotten.

"Y-yeah, but that guy's just a lousy thief, Soul!" Maka rasped, finally having found her voice. "There was no need to hurt him!"

"But he hurt you!" Soul said, still in that confused tone. "I said I would protect you, didn't I? What did I do wrong?"

Maka refrained from gritting her teeth, "Yes, but that's not how you protect people! Not by slicing at everything that goes near me!"

Soul's frown deepened, "I'm a weapon, Maka. That's kinda what I was trained for."

That made whatever comeback Maka had to die in her throat. Somehow she almost forgot that this awkward but sweet boy she found a month ago was supposed to be a human weapon. A lethal human weapon. He had never told her about his whole past clearly, but he implied that he and countless other children had been kidnapped at a young age and were originally trained to be some sort of a special soldier unit. It wouldn't be strange that his meaning of the word 'protect' would differ from her own; that it meant 'destroy everything that would potentially harm her' instead of 'making sure she was safe'.

Again, she didn't allow herself to think about that, dismissing how Soul said that it was Mama who lead that inhumane project and forged him into this cold-blooded weapon.

Despite her stubborn denial, the thought of those things brought hot liquid to the corners of her eyes. She sucked back her frustrated cry, shuffling inside her bag for a handkerchief. Soul's right hand had already transmuted back into flesh and bone, leaving the thief's blood dripping from the tip of his fingers.

She lifted that bloody hand and started wiping gently to give herself some sort of distraction. "You're… you're not just a weapon…" she angrily whispered, more to herself than to him. "You're a person…"

Her concentration on Soul's bloody hand prevented her from noticing the way Soul's eyes scrutinized her and how his frown smoothed into an unreadable look.


"You okay?"

"Yeah," Maka brushed Soul's question off again.

They were standing in front of Barrett's Automail Shop instead of the Albarn residence next door. Obviously because she thought it was better if they lifted Tsubaki's worries first by staying at Barrett's instead of her own home. It was certainly not because she had forgotten about what a scene Papa would make if he knew she brought home an adult human of another gender. She would throw him out of the window no problem, of course, but she couldn't guarantee that Soul would still be perfectly healthy without any gunshot wounds before she managed to do so.

It deepened her paranoia that her Papa could see them from one of her house's too many windows.

Blair meowed encouragingly from Soul's shoulder. Maka smiled at her cat; sometimes she really knew the right words to make her feel better. Or right meows, she supposed. Squaring her shoulders, she turned the doorknob of Barrett's shop's side door.

"MAKA!"

A rough bark echoed as soon as they stepped into the house. Maka flinched. She should've known there was another reaction she should be worrying about more than Papa's.

"SIS!"

She couldn't see anything except a blob of blue before being crushed into a very beefy hug and enveloped in a thick smell of oils and molten steel.

"Black Star! Eeek—gross!"

His actions might make him look like a doting brother, but Maka was familiar enough with the man to know he just wanted to rub as much dirt and oil all over her.

"Is that what you say to your mighty brother after leaving home for so long?!"

Instead of answering him, Maka sputtered angrily as she struggled to get out of his steely cage.

"Put me down or I'll transmute your precious screwdrivers into a giant sword and stab you with it!"

To her great relief, Black Star let her go. "Psh, as if your midget ass could reach the top shelf."

Her relief was short-lived, alas, because Black Star shifted his whole attention to an awkward Soul, making that aggravating mad grin.

"What's this, dear sister?" Black Star said, still in his mocking disappointed-big-brother voice, "You didn't come home for weeks, and not even a single phone call, and now you bring home a boy-toy? I'm ashamed of you, young lady!"

"Wh—he's not my—Black Star!"

Soul didn't help a little bit by leaning in and whispered innocently, "What's a boy-toy?"

Maka couldn't help the aggressive hiss nor the sharp jab to his ribs. Soul cursed as he rubbed his chest, confused—and offended—by her reaction. Black Star added fuel to the fire by gasping, "What a rude way to treat your joystick!"

"Star, I swear to god—"

"Still no?" the engineer didn't seem bothered in the slightest bit, shrugging in an exaggerated display of disappointment. "Just plain boyfriend, then."

An edition of Helmont Theory of Biological Alchemy crashed into Black Star's skull without warning. Maka retreated her weapon back into her bag with reddening cheeks.

Seeing her violent reaction seemed to detain Soul from asking another question, which was good. She didn't think she could handle explaining to Soul what Black Star meant with 'joystick'.

"Geez, did you lift every piece of the rubble in Death City? Your chop is getting meaner!" The loud engineer stood again while grabbing his dented skull. Of course. If a single Maka-Chop could make him stay dead, then Maka wouldn't have so many problems throughout her entire childhood.

"You asked for it!" she sneered, still didn't dare peek at Soul. "And for your information, I called your wife every few days for the past two weeks!"

The eye-roll and grin Black Star sported made her fume. He knew. He just couldn't pass up the opportunity to mess with her. Like always.

"Anyway, Black Star, Maka's brother," Black Star picked himself up and extended his hand to the Ishvalan boy.

"…Soul." He took it, hesitant, but then blurted confusedly as if couldn't stop himself, "I didn't know Mrs. Kamiko had a son?"

Black Star and Maka exchanged a glance, but her pseudo-brother took it pretty coolly, grinning. "Blood ties don't define family."

Soul's eyes widened at those words, but before he could reply, there were footsteps echoing from upstairs. Their commotion apparently had woken Tsubaki up. The pregnant woman ran straight to Maka with both arms open, nearly crying.

"Maka-chan!" Tsubaki wailed. "Thank god you're finally back! I was so worried!"

Maka laughed weakly into Tsubaki's shoulder and patted her back, wondering if her bones had cracked from the amount of crushing they had received in the last ten minutes. Why did people love to hug her so much? She refused to acknowledge Papa's opinion that she was cute and cuddly.

Thankfully Tsubaki decided it was enough smothering for the day and shifted her gaze to her companion. "Oh, is this Soul?"

Soul looked ready to run, uncomfortable being the center of attention, but Maka grabbed his arm and yanked him closer. Blair assisted her by jumping down and pawing his leg forward.

"Yep!"

Tsubaki scrutinized him from head to toe before fixing her eyes to his. Maka somehow felt as if her parents were judging a boyfriend she brought home, which, in a sense, was partially right.

No, no, no. She certainly wasn't bringing a boyfriend and the couple were certainly not her parents.

Soul flinched away from the older woman's gaze, unconsciously leaned towards Maka. Tsubaki finally decided she was satisfied with her observation, but unfortunately, she chose to comment right away, "Wow! Your eyes are really as pretty as Maka-chan said they were!"

Maka's voice climbed two octaves higher, "Wh—Tsubaki-chan! I never said anything like that!"

Perhaps.

Black Star made an interested noise, and Tsubaki's eyes sparkled with something similar to mischief as she countered Maka's sputtering denials. "No, no, no, I remember clearly, you said he has pretty eyes at least twice, also you said he has a melodious voice when you called me from Dublith, also he has a cute—"

"AAAAAAHHH!" Maka clapped her hands on Tsubaki's mouth before she could pulverize her dignity any further. Dammit, she didn't know if her ears were producing smoke from the sheer temperature of her blush.

There was a low whistle from behind her. "So you did bring home a boy-toy!" Then there was a mock sob. "Our little Maka has grown!"

Maka threw Black Star a beautiful series of expertly-worded curses, making Soul gape at how colorful her vocabulary was. Oh yeah, she rarely cursed in front of him. Well, not with the heavy tiers, anyway.

For the record, she never ever said anything like that about Soul. Tsubaki was obviously making it up.

Maybe.

Maka grumbled to herself. It was just that when she started to see Soul as just himself, she found it was so easy to forget who he really was. He was just a kind (and sometimes irritating) Ishvalan boy with a pure soul. It was disturbingly effortless to forget the real reason behind their current companionship.

It was easy to forget that he was a weapon possibly created by her Mama.

Swallowing the ill thought, Maka mumbled to Tsubaki in Xingese, "By the way, Papa's not home, is he?"

"No. He's in East City. Kilik mentioned something about an investigation with Major Yumi last week."

Maka exhaled. "Oh, thank god…"

Black Star, who couldn't pronounce any Xingese for the life of him but understood a couple of words due to growing up with it spoken around him, said, "Are you worrying about old man Spirit making your boyfriend his new shooting target?"

"He's not my—!"

"Now, now, we can catch up more over dinner!" Tsubaki said hastily, breaking their banter, "I'm sure Sid and Myra would love to meet Soul too!"

Maka huffed, but her expression softened as she caught Soul's uncomfortable wince. She smiled encouragingly, and he replied with a grin, even if it was still a little strained. They walked inside to the private part of Barrett's residence, following the married couple.

Their meal was pleasant, all in all, if Maka ignored Black Star's obnoxious teasing and Tsubaki's sparkling eyes whenever she did as much as steal a glance at Soul. Sid and Myra, luckily, were a more normal couple than their children, and they treated Soul casually, making him feel calm enough to relax and actually enjoy himself.

The absence of her Papa made her confident enough to sleep in her own house. Papa was a wealthy nobleman, considering how many residences he owned. But instead of the other fancy manors Papa owned in the bigger cities, Mama had chosen this one as their residence. While the house Maka now owned was Albarn family's smallest one, it was the most beautiful.

Maka cheerfully showed Soul around the house. He actually gawked when they arrived to his room. Maybe because the grandest place he had slept in was BJ's old inn, or maybe it was just the queen-sized bed he stared at with sparkles in his eyes.

She did not realize the implication that giving him a private room meant he was really going to permanently stay with her instead of being temporary travel buddy like she thought he was.

Maka was about to bid him good night when he suddenly blurted with a mischievous grin. "Are my eyes really that pretty?"

She responded by kicking his foot and stomping away to her own room, the chiming of Blair's pumpkin collar followed her.

She would never tell him that the answer was yes.


They spent the next two months travelling all around Amestris, and Soul was beginning to really like his current life as Maka's travel buddy slash bodyguard.

Of course, knowing the location of a lab didn't guarantee that they would find a document or anything alchemy-related in it. So far, they only uncovered one new finding after Rashville. Maka was getting frustrated, wanting to go all the way, but the Reaper Colonel made her promise to go back to Gallows Hill whenever she finished fine-combing a location. Good decision, Soul thought, because he wasn't sure Maka was going to rest otherwise.

Besides, it was nice knowing they had a place to call home.

Soul still hadn't had the chance to meet Maka's father. She always talked about him in such a repulsed manner whenever Soul tried to ask, which was intriguing him to no end. Wasn't a child supposed to love their parents?

Her other family, though, he could understand better. He even started to feel relaxed enough with Sid and Myra, who apparently were the ones who had raised Maka after Mrs. Kamiko had passed away. Maka's Xingese friend Tsubaki was even more like her mother, always taking care of her and helping her around the house.

But it was her brother Black Star that he didn't get.

The guy was loud, obnoxious, and overflowed with energy. He always treated Soul casually, but only when Maka was also in the room. Without her around, Soul could feel that Black Star was somehow trying to keep his distance from him. It was the complete opposite of what Maka had told him; that her brother was a very annoying person with no concept of personal space.

Well, it wasn't like he was bothered by it, Soul decided as he stared at Barrett's automail shop from Maka's patio. The less he had to socialize the better.

"Yo, Evans!"

Soul turned a second too late (he was still trying to get used to his new name). It was the Major with the dreadlocks, Kilik Rung, who had called him. Soul nodded instead of answering, watching warily as the soldier strolled through Maka's garden.

"Is your partner home? I have news for her." Soul nodded again, jerking his thumb to the second floor window where Maka's library was. The Major shook his head, "C'mon, man, it won't kill you to speak a little!" Soul rolled his eyes, but still didn't open his mouth.

It was nothing personal, really. It was just that Soul always found it difficult to speak to other humans without him coming off as rude or just plain hostile (something about his tone and grumpy features, Maka said), so he often opted for silence when Maka wasn't there to help filter his words. Especially if he liked the other person enough.

Major Rung, who was always insisting to be called 'Kilik', often dropped by to see Maka's progress whenever the Reaper Colonel couldn't make it, which was becoming more often these days, something Soul was thankful for. He liked Kilik far more, even after knowing that he was also a State Alchemist in addition of being a soldier on active duty. The Major just had this easygoing and friendly air that let other people easily sense his honest nature and be at ease.

Soul led the Major to Maka's book nest, where he knew she was, still diligently studying the circle they found in Rashville. To his surprise, they found her staring at Northern Province map instead. Maka's greeting to Kilik and their subsequent discussion went over Soul's head as he proceeded to read a book about music he had been enjoying lately. He wouldn't understand a thing even if he listened to their alchemical rambling anyway.

But he found himself being pulled into their conversation when he caught an intriguing word: Briggs.

"We're going there?"

Maka froze mid-sentence as if she had just remembered that he was also in the room. She sneaked a glance while pursing her lips, looked like contemplating something.

"No. I'm going there."

"Not a chance!" Soul instantaneously protested, "I'm going with you!"

"It is too dangerous for you, Soul! It's perfectly in the middle of military ground!" she yelled, "Kilik just said that Ford found old erased files about odd alchemy activities on Briggs mountains. Briggs mountains, Soul! It's a restricted military area! I can get in with my Pocket Watch, but you're a civilian! Not even a legal one, I might add! Besides, we're not even sure if Mama was there! I can't take you! No!"

Grinding his teeth, Soul shouted back, "Very touching, Maka, but it only makes me wanna go even more!"

"Listen to me, idiot—"

"No, you listen! There's no way I'll let you to go to that dangerous place without me!"

"You're a civilian—!"

"Actually," Kilik piped in, "There is a way for him to get in."

Both whipped their heads at the man, one of them was hopeful while the other was wary.

"The issue is for him to get in without being questioned, right?"

Maka glared at her fellow alchemist, but begrudgingly nodded. "Yes, and to not have any curious soldiers wondering about what we're up to, preferably."

Soul grunted. He wasn't stupid, he knew that was out of the question if they realized a State Alchemist was taking an Ishvalan to a restricted area. He knew, dammit, but it wouldn't make him back down.

Kilik clicked his metal fingers. "Solved."

Maka quirked her brow, "How?"

"Oh, I know people," the Major just replied airily, waving one of his automail arms.


Maka was still bulging her eyes at the couple in front of her, her jaw somewhere on the floor.

They were just stepping out of North City's train station when they were greeted by a familiar alchemist trader and her pink-haired girlfriend.

Turned out Kilik's 'way' of getting her and Soul inside Briggs Fort territory was through the niece of the fort's highest command Lieutenant General Tsar Pushka, who was none other than Miss Jacqueline Dupré. Maka sensed that Soul was equally stunned beside her.

"We meet again, Miss… Uhm, I believe I didn't catch your name before?"

"Maka Albarn," Maka took her hand, still stunned, "Uh, thank you for helping us, Miss Jacqueline."

"Ooooh! The second Grigori Alchemist!" her eyes lit up in recognition. "Please, call me Jackie." She gestured to the woman beside her, "And you've met my girlfriend Kim Diehl."

Miss Kim ignored her girlfriend as she scowled at Soul. "Your boyfriend didn't take good care of his hair! I approve the bandanna look but the way he styled it is just inexcusable!"

Well, it was true that his hair was not as fluffy and carefully spiked as when Miss Kim had styled it, mainly because Soul was not that knowledgeable with hair products yet and was often too lazy to do anything more than combing it into its current haphazard style. He had also changed his usual headband with a thick bandanna because of North City's colder climate but—wait a minute—

"He's not my boyfriend!" Maka squealed loudly, avoiding Soul's eyes, which were also darting anywhere but her behind his sunglasses.

"He's not?" Miss Kim slit her eyes at them, incredulous.

Maka cleared her throat and stifled her blush, "He is…"—what should she say anyway? "…my traveling friend, Soul Evans."

"Is he now?" Miss Kim quirked a sly smirk.

"Now, now, Kim," Miss Jacqueline—Jackie—interjected, but her eyes were twinkling with the same mirth as her girlfriend's. Maka squirmed, recalling her behavior in Little Hook, she could see why the couple thought they were dating, giving her none-too-subtle hovering over Soul after his episode. She had a worrying suspicion that these two women liked gossip as much as Tsubaki or Liz.

Thankfully, their ride had arrived, saving them from more embarrassment. Fort Briggs was located even further north than North City, right in the middle of Briggs mountains. Maka was glad she had left Blair home as she felt the air get colder with every passing mile. The cat might have endured Death City's crazy heat just fine, but Maka knew she got extremely lethargic in colder climates.

"So how exactly does this smuggling plan of ours work?" Maka spoke.

"Oh, no, no, it's not smuggling. We'll go through the fort's gate legally."

"But that's—"

"I have the privilege of going in and out of the fort without any questions. And of course, that also applies to people I bring with me. Courtesy of my uncle and father," Jackie hissed the last sentence with partial distaste. "Kilik told me you don't want any escorts either, so I'll request for you to be left alone. But you have to remember you still have to be subtle and not to draw any suspicion, Maka. Briggs is known as the strongest stronghold for a reason."

Maka nodded, it wasn't like she was planning to do something illegal, but the possibility of Mama doing research within a deadly force-authorized territory was bugging her. It was obvious that whatever it was wasn't meant to be published, so she couldn't help but to be extra discreet and avoid as little military intervention as possible.

A snort came from her side. She glanced at a grumpy Soul. He was obviously disliking this clear abuse of power, but she knew he couldn't afford to voice his thoughts since it actually worked in their favor.

Jackie explained further about her connection to the northern military as the car they rode ran steadily through icy roads. Apparently she was also the daughter of North City's mayor, Colonel Felix Dupré. But Jackie herself hated her family's nepotism within Northern HQ ranks, and wanted to free herself from the obligation to serve the Führer. It didn't stop her family from trying to sway her into joining military by giving her free access to the fort, however, as she was a talented alchemist, and a State Alchemist within the family would surely strengthen their dynasty.

But then it was clear to Maka that the couple's dislike of nepotism didn't necessarily mean they had a strict law-abiding sense either, because Jackie had said a bit too casually that she'd been using the access to do some 'side business'. Her deduction strengthened when Kim let slip that the business they'd been taking care of involved firearms trading. Part of her wondered if the couple was one of Sid's anonymous suppliers. The world was small, after all.

"So how come you are friends with Kilik?" Maka asked, deciding that it was best to not poke around their side business. "You didn't go to military academy, right?"

"Oh, we studied under the same alchemy professor."

Small world indeed.


Pride looked at the detailed map of Northern Province with concealed distaste.

So this was where that woman had hidden her greatest research. The wench even implied that she had slipped her secret there too. The audacity.

The latest report said the little Grigori was making her way to Briggs. It wouldn't do. Pride needed the little Grigori to be as far away as possible, at least until she destroyed the wench's papers and finished with preparations. Or should she lock her up here instead? She couldn't cause trouble if she was imprisoned. Yes. Good plan.

Then there was also the problem at Eastern HQ. The little Reaper had actually started to snoop around her business. She had never given the little Reaper any attention before, because he was not a threat to her, but that would surely change if he kept sticking his nose into inappropriate places.

Pride's eyes narrowed with disgust. She called for her children without so much as lifting her eyes from the map, "Wrath. Gluttony."

Two figures presented themselves silently, obediently awaiting orders. Ah, how satisfying it was to have them bending to her will so easily.

"Take care of things at Briggs. Bring little Grigori to me."

Gluttony tilted his head, "What about the other one? The Ishvalan boy?"

"Do as you please. Eat him for all I care."


Soul's paranoia level was getting pretty high.

It was not because they were travelling within Amestris's strongest military stronghold. Well, that too. But he just couldn't shake a vague feeling that something was going to go wrong.

They bid Jacqueline and Kim goodbye as they went their separate ways. They had successfully passed Briggs's gate without any problem, Jackie had introduced them as her 'guests', which ensured that they would be left alone without actually needing to flaunt Maka's Silver Pocket Watch. The couple continued their travel to the fort while Soul and Maka hunted for the location of Mrs. Kamiko's lab, if it was really there. They had agreed to meet in three days, though; it was the extent of what Jackie could afford them without alarming anyone.

He tugged the pigtail of the shuddering girl beside him.

"You okay?"

She hummed a response before squatting down to touch the snow. Only after months of travelling with her did Soul understand that the action actually meant she was sensing what she dubbed as the earth's 'dragon path' to search for unusual flow of alchemical energy.

The girl was shuddering again as she looked behind her shoulder. There was no one in the snow field except them, of course. But Maka would know if there was a soldier hiding due to her weird perception ability. She didn't say anything to indicate an incoming threat, but her movements were nervous and guarded.

Following her steps, Soul wondered if she also felt the same paranoia.


On day one, the dragon path had led Maka to the ghost town of Baschool, where she eventually found a promising clue under the abandoned city lab.

It puzzled her to no end. She expected the search to be more complex and time-consuming, considering this was located inside military territory. She definitely was not expecting Mama to hide in plain sight like this. Frowning, Maka couldn't decide if it was the best or the worst place one could build a secret lab.

But finding something consequential was a different task entirely. No one would expect an alchemist to stack their research notes on a table in the middle of their lab. In fact, it was not necessarily recorded on paper. They had no clue what they should be looking for, so their only choice was to peel their eyes open and scrutinize every surface for any abnormalities.

So that was what she had been doing for the past three days, warily inspecting the place inch by inch with Soul following close behind her. He had been unusually antsy since they passed Briggs gate; the nervousness was clear on his face, deepening her own anxiety. She couldn't shake the feeling that something would go terribly wrong.

Swallowing the uncomfortable thoughts, Maka stepped further into the dusty facility. To her dismay, she found absolutely nothing. The place was completely empty. There was no alchemical residue or texture… save for one negligible wall.

Maka tapped the wall curiously. A secret passage? She wasted no time before transmuting a door. Like she'd thought, there was a stone stairway down from where the door opened. Exchanging nervous glances with Soul, Maka took his hand and warily started to climb down.

Walking through the dark passage was a bit daunting, especially when the stairs gave way to a straight tunnel. Time felt like a surreal concept the longer they walked through the passage. The air was thick and the darkness caused an intimidating sense of claustrophobia. The only thing keeping her from going insane was the firm reassurance of Soul's hand, and by the way he squeezed hers, it seemed like he felt the same.

When it was her and Tsubaki (or Black Star, sometimes), it was always them walking in front of her like a protective mother hen covering their chicklet, something she never gave any thought to until she started traveling with Soul. With him, they always walked side-by-side, sometimes with fingers linked.

It felt nice.

They stopped when the tunnel branched. The left one was identical to the former tunnel, if not a little bit smaller, but the right one was closed off by a crooked pair of steel doors, with a large X painted on it. The dried red paint made it look like it was painted with blood. Maka felt goosebumps run down her spine. She was by no means a cowardly girl, but her subconscious told her there was something very dangerous behind those doors, and Maka gladly followed her instinct to take the other path.

Without sound, they walked through the left tunnel, trying to not think about the creepy sealed doors too much. It was five minutes later—or maybe an hour, who knew—that the tunnel started to go uphill.

They climbed and climbed and climbed, until a slit of light appeared in front of them. Maka hurried to it, transmuting an exit door hastily, very eager to leave the tunnel.

"Where are we?" Soul croaked, blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes to the overwhelming light after being in the dark tunnel for so long.

Maka, thinking that this venture was getting more and more bizarre, replied, "Dunno. Looks like an old dance hall or something?"

The room they stepped into was full with dusty furniture and broken glass, and what appeared to be an ancient piano was standing hauntingly in the middle of the room. The floor under their feet was patterned in red and black checkerboard. Dusty red velvet curtains full of spider webs framed the glassless windows.

Their current task of searching for Mama's records was completely forgotten as she wondered why an eerily odd dance hall like this had been built in the middle of a mining town. An abandoned military mining town, to be exact.

Was it Mama who build this—this place? Why? What for? If it was meant to disguise the lab it would work no better than putting a glowing sign with 'Treasure inside!' written on it outside the building.

But when she braced herself to peek from one of the glassless windows, they were not in Baschool anymore, though the ghost town could still be seen dozen miles away. She should've figured, they had walked inside the tunnel for hours. A chill ran down her spine again and she felt the odd urge to duck her head and get away from the windows. Something in the air was not right.

A broken piano note rang terrifyingly loud, making her squeak. Spinning her head wildly, she saw a sheepish Soul with a finger on the piano.

"What are you doing, idiot?!" Maka fumed. She certainly wasn't going to say that he had scared her witless. She was by no means a cowardly girl.

"Sorry," he winced, the hand that was touching the piano flew to the back of his neck. "I was just—the place looks familiar… somehow…"

Distracted, Maka padded to him with a frown, "Familiar how?"

"Dunno," he shrugged, glancing to the broken instrument in front of them. "I just felt like I have seen a room like this. Piano and all." Then he frowned, cursing lowly to himself, as if annoyed with his own brain.

Intriguing.

Maka tentatively sat down on the piano bench, inspecting the ivory keys carefully. Her instincts told her that whatever she was searching for had something to do with this instrument. Sliding her gloved fingers atop the keys, Maka closed her eyes.

Oh! Keys!

Keys!

Her eyes widened with excitement. It was the key! But her hope deflated as quickly as it emerged, when she remembered she knew next to nothing about piano, or music in general. Not knowing what she was doing (and feeling a little dumb), she pressed a random note.

"Oh, that's a G."

Maka whipped her head at her companion. "You know how to play piano?"

"Heavens, no," he gave a slightly dark chuckle. "Raised in a lab, remember? I just happen to have read your music books, which were the only things worth a read in your ridiculous book nest."

"Oh," she replied dumbly, completely missing his implied jibe. She had forgotten that Papa collected those kinds of books too. They never got Maka's attention, because she deemed them irrelevant for her goal to become a State Alchemist.

And maybe, her traitorous little heart jabbed, because music kind of made her remember the times she had lost; when things were different, when Papa used to play piano for Mama, with her dancing merrily around their living room.

Dismissing the thought, Maka pressed the G note again. There were very subtle vibrations coming from the instrument, which she had missed the first time. Tilting her head in wonder, Maka pressed it again.

G.

"Is there something about that note?" Soul asked, maybe because she kept pressing the note with a face full of concentration.

G.

Grigori.

Could it be?

"Soul, do you know the G… uh, what's the word? The G… the G-chord?"

Soul blinked, clearly confused with whatever she was up to, "Yeah?"

"Can you play it?"

He quirked his brow, but complied. Maka shifted a bit as the boy leaned down to press three keys; G, B, and D, not that she knew enough to tell which was which. A tingling sensation of alchemical electricity ran past her feet, and almost at the same time, a loud thud echoed.

Both jumped at the noise, Soul instantly placed himself between her and the startling thing, one arm held over her protectively. To their relief, it was just a dusty table. Maka nudged him forward to inspect the fallen piece of furniture closer. It was just an ordinary round table, at first glance, but its gorgeous carving became more and more intriguing the longer she stared. It might appear a mere ornate surface to untrained eyes, but she recognized a few alkahestry symbols.

"Hey, there's numbers here, are these important?" Soul's voice called from the other side.

Maka stepped to him, scrutinizing the complex carvings. Yes, there were numbers. She immediately pulled her notebook out to list all the visible numbers.

88. 16. 1. 23. 53. 57.

What did they mean?

Maka abused her brain, thinking in miles per second. Think, think, think. She glared holes to the floor, while Soul tilted his head curiously at the fallen table, inspecting a Z-shaped carving at the center of the round table.

Wait—table… numbers… Z…

Z—in the middle of a circle… Zahl?

Oh!

Maka was sure she heard her brain click. Her eyes were completely round. "Soul, you're genius!"

He blurted, "Huh?" But Maka ignored him, squealing in thrill and scrawling hastily.

Table, numbers, and zahl—proton.

Periodic table, and atomic numbers.

88. 16. 1. 23. 53. 57.

Radium. Sulfur. Hydrogen. Vanadium. Iodine. Lanthanum.

Ra-S-H-V-I-La—Rashville?!

Maka nearly dropped her notebook in shock. Seemed like she had been chosen as Lady Luck's favorite daughter without her knowing. She vaguely heard Soul call her name and felt him tug at one of her pigtails, but she still ignored him, rapidly flipping her notebook to the page where she documented the circle from Rashville.

It was a good thing she had been diligently studying and breaking the circle down to its basic parts. It was easy to see which elements constructed the alchemical array. She had been excited to learn that this circle also had alkahestry combined in it, having a 'path' twirling from inside out; which was why Maka knew how to arrange the elements into one specific order:

Beryllium. Helium. Molybdenum. Boron. Gadolinium.

Smirking, she started to convert them into their atomic numbers.

4-2-42-5-64

But her triumph was short-lived. What now? What did those numbers mean? Had she missed something? A second hint?

She was grumbling to her Rashville-circle drawing when Soul leaned to her and casually piped in, "Interesting. Those numbers can be piano notes too."

"What?!" Maka nearly gave herself a whiplash from turning too fast. "Seriously?! You can change numbers into notes?!"

He rolled his eyes, "It's weird for me to say this, but that's supposed to be common knowledge, Maka."

Maka felt her cheeks heat. It was not her fault she wasn't interested in music, dammit! She hid her embarrassment by scowling at the boy and dragging him by his collar to the broken piano. Soul stumbled behind her, yelling for her to stop with the violence. Ignoring his grumbling, she pointed at the instrument. Soul complied begrudgingly, taking a second to convert the numbers into the keys before pressing F-D-F-D-G-A-F in order.

The piano vibrated, as if there were gears turning inside it. Both of them watched in bewilderment as the instrument's lid slowly opened without any human assistance.

"Whoa… cool!" Soul stole Maka's words.

Nodding unconsciously, she circled the open instrument and peeked inside it. There were strange machines and gears there, which might be the cause of the piano keys not making a proper sound. But there, deep within the metal forest and layers of piano strings, was a small music box.

Standing on her toes, she reached carefully for it. But it was unfortunate that she hadn't inherited her Papa's height, for the piano was concert-sized and the box was twisted in the most awkward angle imaginable, leaving her to flail wildly without so much as touching the damn box. Fortunately, her travel buddy had the limb length to make it, but she had to endure a maddening blush and he had to struggle keeping his snickers to himself if he didn't want his shin to be kicked. Within a minute, she was already cradling the music box and Soul's snickers had been replaced with muttered curses (yes, he hadn't had such a big success).

The little thing was magnificent, full of carvings and paintings of alchemical symbols.

Maka cheerily transmuted a fluffy wrap from one of the velvet curtains, gently wrapped the music box, and placed it cautiously inside her bag. Soul closed the piano lid, still grumbling about tiny alchemists and unnecessary violence. She was about to say something when, for the third time that day, a chill ran down her spine, her soul perception suddenly going into high alert.

Something really was wrong.

Seeing her sudden stillness, Soul also shifted into his defensive mode, hurrying to her side with one arm ready to transmute at any moment.

Their horrible foreboding presented itself as two disturbing soul responses behind them.

But saying that they were two soul responses was not quite right.

It was similar to Soul's double-soul, but theirs were tainted, a lot more sinister and contained more than a hundred other souls. The Ishvalan boy's other soul was twisted and dangerous, yes, but it was still… humanly sane, somehow. These people's souls, however, were drowning in a storm of sorrows, desperate cries and horrifying fears. Maka shivered violently; she wanted to throw up.

Soul appeared to sense danger the instant he caught sight of her stiffened face. He spun to face their guests while throwing his blade-arm in front of her protectively, jaw set and eyes darkened.

The two strangers couldn't be any more different. One of them was very skinny, with pinkish hair and a sickly complexion. The other one was the walking definition of muscle, with dark skin and strange X mark on his face. When the one with pink hair shifted, Maka could see a strange tattoo on their upper arm; a snake biting its own tail, Ouroboros.

Her mind flew to a certain copy of ancient alchemical document in her library; The Chrysopoeia of Cleopatra [2]. Ouroboros was the analogy of the essence of alchemy; all is one, one is all. And it was representing the transmigration of souls, which was linked to the supposed creation of Philosopher's Stone.

She thought of all the sickening souls inside of them. What a horrid taste.

"Oh, I know why they call her Grigori! She has the same smell!" the beefy one barked in delight. "Hey, Crona, do you think she'll taste the same?"

Wha—

"Oh, shut up, Ragnarok! Your voice is so irritating!" the other one replied with annoyance.

"You shut up!"

"Who are you?!" Maka shouted bravely, even if her pitch was higher than she intended. "What do you want?"

Both strangers stopped their banters to stare at her. She gulped. Dammit, she was by no means a cowardly girl!

"You're so annoying," drawled the skinny one, "I don't know how to deal with annoying girls!"

"Stupid! We've already decided to kill them, haven't we?" the beefy one bellowed. A growl was heard from Soul as he instinctively moved closer to her.

"That's not what Pride told us!"

"She didn't say anything about bringing the goods alive!"

Gritting her teeth, Maka had a very sick suspicion that they were talking about them. She was a formidable fighter and Soul was definitely not an easy kill, but these strangers had something that made her alchemist senses screaming in alert.

Still, the more frightened she felt, the angrier she became. And the angrier she became, the more reckless she behaved. She glared at the bantering strangers, who were still quarrelling like they were invisible to them. Maka Albarn wasn't one to take it lightly on being ignored, so instead of quietly slipping away like a sane people would, she snapped at them without bothering to lower her volume, "I said, who are you?!"

Soul hissed his disappointment at her admittedly unwise move, but she was angry—not scared, dammit! —so she hissed back.

Both strangers whipped their heads at her, furious to be interrupted in the middle of their own fighting. "Okay, okay! I'll speak! Just shut up, will you?" the skinny one clicked their tongue.

"I am Crona, the Wrath. And this is Ragnarok, the Gluttony. We're here for a cleaning job."


He had been paranoid since the start of this journey.

He had been. But he never imagined they would meet these people.

His blood knew before his brain did, recognizing the similarity they shared deep in their souls.

They were the same as that one woman who lorded over the State Alchemists before Mrs. Kamiko came into his life. Their pulsing souls, so wickedly violent and cruel, were the same as that woman's. His blood gurgled as his Demon hissed in excitement, forcing him to grit his teeth.

'Good, good. There will be blood!'

Soul suppressed a shiver. It was not lost to him that the Demon didn't care whose blood it'd be.

Maka's unwise move doubled his already spiked anxiety. He wasn't one to run from a fight, but somehow he sensed that fighting these people—these creatures—wouldn't be the right decision. His blood whispered that they were facing enemies they probably couldn't defeat.

"I am Crona, the Wrath. And this is Ragnarok, the Gluttony. We're here for a cleaning job."

The skinny one's words were completely calm compared to the violence of their next move. In a blur of pink and black, the Wrath thundered forward at the girl behind him. His blade blocked the attack ten centimeters before Maka's face, snapping her back to high alert and assuming a fighting stance.

In a wide slash, Soul launched the Wrath back to a wall, breaking it to bits. His Demon giggling happily. He ignored him. His eyes were still red.

"You okay, Maka?" he snarled without turning back.

"Y-yeah. Worry about yourself!" her startled answer reached him, pitch still higher than normal. "I'll take the pinky—Wrath, whatever, you take care of the beefy one!"

Despite the situation, Soul found himself smirking, blood itching to be given a task to kill.

Shit. That wasn't good. She didn't say anything about killing.

"Aaaah, you can turn your flesh into blades… I don't know how to deal with flesh turning into blades…" the Wrath drawled from their pile of rubble, voice a shade away from insane. There were red sparks of electricity on the arm Soul had cut. "You make me so irritated, you know? Your blade… your blade!" Horrified, both he and Maka watched the Wrath's injuries closing up via an unmistakably alchemical process, leaving no trail of any scar as if the fifteen centimeters cut hadn't been there at all.

Impossible.

Wrath lunged at him with a deranged cry. Soul was still too shocked by the sheer impossibility of Wrath's healing, but Maka was quick enough to form a defensive wall. The Wrath shouted angrily and shifted to attacking the girl. Soul watched her form a lance to defend herself, but his attention was snatched right away because the beefy one had nearly chopped his head off. Soul cursed. It wasn't the time to get spaced out.

The Gluttony laughed maniacally again. "Hey, do you know that I'm allowed to eat you, tiny freak?"

'Let him! Let him! Then while he's fixated on your flesh you can stab him to your heart's content!'

'Shut the fuck up!'

Soul gritted his teeth, trying his best to keep his eyes red.

But keeping his insanity at bay was a hard task when the enemy he faced was far more violent and feral than he had anticipated. He had no time to stop. Heck, he didn't even have time to breathe. Gluttony's attacks might be simple and predictable, but his strength and power made a single blow terrifyingly deadly.

Soul was sure he'd cracked a rib and his left ankle was probably sprained, but he went on. If he stopped, he would die.

The Demon's giggling stole a second of his concentration, which resulted in Gluttony biting his left blade-arm. A sharp growl left his chest as Gluttony trapped his whole left arm. Fuck. A single squeeze and his bones would shatter like twigs. He didn't have time to think, his bitten blade was starting to crack.

Out of pure instinct, Soul transmuted his leg and beheaded Gluttony with one lightning-speed kick.

'Oooooh, good show, boy! Good show!'

'I told you to shut up, you disgusting gremlin!'

Wheezing, he detached Gluttony's head from his blade-arm. That was seriously creepy. He slowly transmuted the blade back into flesh, wincing nauseously. Thank god, Mrs. Kamiko made it so that damage sustained on his blade-form wouldn't affect his actual human body; as it was just a metal, inanimate object, not living cells and tissue. Still, he didn't dare think about what would happen if his blade actually shattered. He had more important things to worry about.

Maka was still fighting ferociously against Wrath. He immediately dashed to them, arm transmuted into newly-forged blade.

"Maka!"

"Soul! Behind you!"

"Wha—"

A punch sent him crashing harshly to the floor. Oxygen left his lungs from the sheer power of the blow. He gasped, not entirely understanding what had happened.

"Soul!"

He crawled back up to see Gluttony standing in front of him, mad grin splitting his face ear-to-ear.

What the fuck had happened?!

"I—" he rasped, "I killed you!"

Wrath stopped their attacks on Maka to sneer at him with disgust. "What could possibly ever make you think that a rotten imitation like you could kill us? Irritating!"

A pair of tiny shaking arms were wrapped around Soul, helping him stand. "Th-they can't die?" Maka's voice squawked beside him. "How?!"

"I killed you!" repeated Soul, still unable to believe that Gluttony was standing without any injuries—or even blood—in front of them after being beheaded.

Gluttony and Wrath weren't so nice as to give them time to be shocked. Both immortals leaped at them from two directions. Soul shoved Maka out of the way while blocking Gluttony's blow with a kick, but he missed Wrath's attack, feeling their punch connecting to his gut excruciatingly as both of them flew a dozen meters from their impact point.

Coughing up blood, he kicked Wrath away. His struggle to stand halted altogether when Maka's sharp scream cut the air. He whipped his head wildly to search for her.

Please, no, no, no!

His eyes found her struggling to get out of Gluttony's muscly cage, right when the foreboding feeling he had had since the start of this journey snapped into one conclusion:

They wanted Maka.

They always tried to separate her from him, though he didn't feel any form of killing intent when they attacked her. They actually aimed to knock her unconscious or at least disarm her. But it was different with him, there wasn't the slightest sign of restraint. They attacked to kill. He swallowed hard. That could only mean one thing; they were fighting to take Maka away, and he was an unwanted obstacle.

Maka shrieked when Gluttony's filthy tongue licked the blood on her cheek.

There was a giggle inside his brain.

A switch was flipped.

'It's showtime!'

His eyes were black.

In a second, he was already gripping Gluttony's arms and crushing them like glass. There was a feminine voice shouting, but he couldn't hear the words nor cared enough to listen.

His mind completely erased everything that was irrelevant to killing the enemy. He was a weapon, and he existed to kill. He wasn't allowed to feel fear or any other emotion whatsoever.

Old instinct kicked in, cutting the ties between his pain tolerance meter and his brain, transferring it to strengthen his five senses instead.

Gluttony was back on his feet, arms healed, and barking something Soul couldn't bring himself to care. Irrelevant. His sole purpose was to kill the enemy in front of him, nothing more, nothing less.

If the creature couldn't die, then he would kill it until it stayed dead.

Both of his arms were blades. He knew he wouldn't have any chance of survival if he stopped attacking.

Kick. Spin. Left punch. Stab. Kick. Slice. Slice. Slice. Punch.

How satisfying.

He lunged forward and slammed his body to Gluttony's back, producing a twin blade from his torso that stabbed right through the creature's body.

Screaming in pain, Gluttony tried to crush him in a death grip, but he was faster. His scythe arms sliced Gluttony's claws as he kicked backwards to launch himself out of the immortal's attack range.

"SOUL! LOOK OUT!"

His eyes were red.

Her voice brought him back, conveniently right before the world collapsed all around him.


There was something wrong with Soul.

Maka's breath caught in her throat. He didn't even respond to her yells, lunging blindly to the Gluttony while dodging the creature's attacks with sharp movements.

What was he doing?!

Did he even understand that his enemy was basically immortal?

His movements were precise and powerful, but he definitely didn't care about injuries the slightest bit.

The most worrying thing, however, was that his souls had switched. The artificial part was now dominating, tainting his otherwise blue soul to pure black.

Maka watched in bewilderment as the Ishvalan boy continued to slice Ragnarok with each blade produced from his body. He actually fought evenly with the giant immortal. No. He was besting him.

Unfortunately, she was in no position to be distracted.

She paid the price for neglecting her own fight when Crona's punch met her gut and sent her flying an impressive length away. Coughing blood, her feet wobbled as she tried to stand.

"Aaah, are you ignoring me? How dare you ignore me! I don't know what to do about people who ignore me, but it makes me mad. Mad!" Wrath's eyes followed hers as she stared disbelievingly at their rapidly closing wound. They giggled. "Funny, isn't it? Like magic! Except that it's not. Human brains just can't understand it yet."

Something caught in Maka's throat. Did they just say something she thought they were saying?

Her mind started to go downhill from there, but she caught herself. No. She couldn't think of Mama yet. She couldn't afford to lose focus.

And she was totally right. Crona's feral attacks were impossible to dodge or even guard against if she didn't give all of her concentration. But miracle tend to happen to those who least expect it, whether it was the good or bad kind. Maka was halfway through activating both her circles when a huge chunk of roof crackled dangerously right above Soul's head. So, like a very experienced alchemist should be doing in the time of crisis, she shoved him out of the way with her alkahestry-gloved hands instead of transmuting a protective wall.

"SOUL, LOOK OUT!"

There was a flash of green angel wings among the thick cover of dust. Maka squinted to make sure the idiot boy was okay.

Only that there was no idiot boy in sight.

There was just a spear. No, not a spear, a scythe. A vicious, intimidating, two-meter-tall scythe.

Maka choked on her own breath, staring at the grim-reaper-style weapon in her hand. It was a disturbingly beautiful thing, but she had no time to properly admire it. The handle was engraved with so many alchemical symbols, arrays, and circles. Its blade was long, very long, with strange words in ancient alphabets carved on both sides. The weapon was jet black, save for the bottom half of the blade, which was glinting with red. Deep red. Like a certain pair of eyes.

Soul's eyes.

"Soul?!"

"What the fuck?!" a deep voice came from the weapon, the very same voice her dear stupid friend had.

"That's my line!" Maka yelled back at the blade like an idiot.

It's not the shape that matters, it's the soul that's important, yes, but how was she supposed to ignore this kind of shape?!

Their banter was rudely interrupted by two alarmingly vivid presences Maka felt from each side. Without thinking, she swung the scythe—which very much likely was Soul—to guard against two incoming attacks. It—he—was heavy, but Maka didn't endure ridiculously heavy combat training with Professor Stein for nothing. Her technique was top notch. Unfortunately, the weapon was considerably taller than her and she was more used to lances, so she couldn't help the occasional clangs when the blade crashed into something.

"Hey, do this properly, will ya?!"

"I'm trying my best here, thank you very much!"

Her adrenaline amount was bordering the impossible level, apparently, because she realized something impressive was happening with her perception. Even among the thick fog of dust, she could feel her enemies' exact moves and pinpoint their location with incredible accuracy.

Her usual level was good enough, but usually she just felt the souls' general directions, not knowing exactly where each of their limbs were like she did now. She could even feel every material around her, as if her perception was picking up the buzzing electrons of every atom. It was like her alkahestry wasn't only guiding her through the dragon path, but also illuminating everything along the road.

Fascinated, her concentration swayed a bit as Ragnarok's attack missed her neck by a hair. She couldn't be horrified nor rejoice, because Crona's strike came right after. Panicking, Maka was torn in a heartbeat decision between transmuting a defensive wall or swinging Soul to block the attack. Her body, however, dumbly chose to combine both. She blocked Crona's punch with Soul's handle while activating her transmutation circle. Her miscalculation of Soul's length caused his blade to crash harshly at the floor, followed by a loud ring of his curses.

Transmutation sounds followed the sparks of bright green angel wings. In the next second, Crona was sent flying a dozen meters away, impaled by several red and black spiky pillars formed up from the floor.

Indeed, miracles tend to happen to those who least expect it.

"Wh—" Maka gawked, "What just happened?!"

Because there was no way she just did a transmutation. Her hands were nowhere near the floor. Even if she did, it was the scythe in her hand that was supposed to change its shape.

"I—I think I just… transfer it?" came Soul's unsure reply, and he sounded just as shocked as her.

"What do you mean 'transfer it'?"

"I don't know!" Soul squawked back, "I just felt this energy coming from you, and before I knew it, it flowed through me into the earth!"

What the hell?

"This is all so weird!"

Oh, was it really?

Maka bit back her sarcasm because Ragnarok sprung towards them with his tongue lolling hungrily, giving her one perfect second to see that there was an Ouroboros tattoo on it. The next second she was flying above the immortal creature and knocked his head with Soul's hilt. Without hesitation, she stabbed Soul's blade onto the earth as she landed ungracefully. Green angel wings sparked as spiky pillars were formed a second time, this time piercing the Gluttony.

There was no time to breathe, indeed. Crona was right behind her the next second, before she could figure exactly when the Wrath had escaped from their own crucifixion.

Missing the chance to guard, Maka was sent crashing to a wall. Soul's yell warned her just in time to dodge Crona's blow. Bless him, Maka shuddered; that strike landed exactly where her head had been a moment ago. She used Soul's handle as an anchor to launch herself out of the Wrath's aim while sending a transmutation. The wall in front of Crona blasted in the form of horizontal spikes, impaling them for the second time.

Maka was taking a short breath when suddenly, like a puzzle, everything clicked in the most disturbing way.

Soul's transmutation light was green.

He just transferred her transmutation to a long distance.

The thing he did was alkahestry.

There, in her own hand, was the unshakable proof that her Mama was indeed a sinner.

His words from that first night she met him creeped into her ears; "She was the one who personally transmuted me, Maka."

Soul was right.

Her occupied mind failed her to register what was really happening around them. She just heard a loud crumble and Soul's horrified voice before a pair of firm arms clutched her body for dear life.

The whole place was collapsing. She lost sense of the immortals in all that chaos, but to be fair, she wasn't paying attention to anything except for the horrible proof of her Mama's sin. The arms were still tightly wrapped around her body as the world turned sideways, but when the loud crumbling noises stopped, she was alone in the thick blanket of dusty rubble.

Maka dared to open her eyes, still not entirely understanding the situation.

"Soul…?"

A wet cough answered her. Unfortunately, her brain was in too much distress to understand the gravity of a wet cough. But thanks to the thinning dust clouds, her eyes finally snapped to a horrifying sight that suddenly punched her back to earth.

Soul was laying under the debris, with an ominous amount of something red pooling around him. It took a few seconds for her to register that it was the metal bar in the middle of his chest that was making the red pool.

Immediately, perhaps as an act of a final denial, her brain pushed everything out of its forefront other than the dying boy in front of her. Like a robot, she mindlessly performed all first aid she knew, thinking only that he would die if she didn't.

Soul gurgled out a handful of blood, choking on his own breath. Maka hissed, she didn't have a choice but to pull out the metal bar and close the wound before he bled to death. Wasting no time, she tapped the crooked metal, transmuting its shape into a straight clean pipe and reduced its length.

"Hold on, Soul. It's gonna be rough!" she mumbled to the gasping boy, holding the pipe firmly and—dear—started pulling it out.

Never had she thought she would hear his voice in this dreadful way.

She couldn't shut her ears against his excruciating screams, but her hands were steady and her eyes were focused. Inch by inch the bar was pulled, accompanied by a haunting amount of blood spurting from his chest and the deafening volume of his cries.

She knew Soul's screams would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Finally, after the most agonizing minute of her life yet, the bar was pulled out completely, leaving a bloody gash in the middle of his chest. There was no time to celebrate. He wasn't breathing.

"Soul? Soul, stay with me!"

Ignoring the terrifying lack of answer, Maka quickly draw her alkahestry circle around him using his blood. She had never been a religious person, but every fiber of her being was praying to the reaper—if he really existed—to give her time. She couldn't hear anything besides her own heartbeat as she placed both of her hands on the circle.

"Come on, Soul… Come on…"

Both of her hands were cold despite being drenched in warm blood. She couldn't hear the transmutation sounds. Her heartbeat was still too loud.

She nearly cried when he finally gasped awake and started stirring. Fucking thanks the reaper for being late.

"Maka…?" Soul's weak groan reached her ears. He seemed to not completely be aware of everything yet, but a strained smile was forming on his lips when his hazy eyes found her, whispering deliriously, "Good… You're okay…"

Ah, his soul was blue.

Her heart was starting to feel again, but Maka wished it never did, because the devastating thought that she just saved—and had been saved by—Mama's creation was back to the very front of her brain.

Denial was always useless.

How foolish of her.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him or to let herself be openly joyous that he was alive. Her heart felt burnt after the clashing emotions from nearly losing a dear friend and being saved by the living proof of Mama's sin.

Maka had always known, deep inside her heart, that all this time Soul had been painfully right.

Only this time she didn't have anything to help her deny it.


Footnotes :

[1] : Black project is what they call a country's illegal activities. It doesn't exist on the papers and the citizens are forbidden to know of its very existence. The Black Blood Experiment where Soul and Wes had been a part of is an example of Amestris's black project.

[2] : A single sheet document which contains only symbols, drawings and captions, including an Ouroboros drawing, made by Cleopatra the Alchemist (not to be confused with Cleopatra VII, Queen of Egypt). She experimented with practical alchemy but is also credited as one of the four female alchemists that could produce the Philosopher's stone.