Aztec Goddess: Well, everyone knows it was a massacre, not war, so expect some unpleasantness here. I tried my best on direct quoting, but, yeah, that was really tedious. Had to do some research, and I found out Basque was a Colonel at this time.

Ishbal

I thought I should do something to prepare for D-day, so I sat myself on a box and started filing my nails. I was in the same tent as Basque, who was looking over at stuff the military must have stolen from the Ishbalans. We basically ignored each other. I was too busy thinking anyway.

What happened to that weird girl? She would not shut up on her way here, but when everyone else was wide awake, nothing got her to talk. Maybe she is afraid of people, but why not me? She freakin' has the balls to call me a girl! I should start calling her a guy then. No, wait, she will get all emotional and that was really awkward back at the train. I suppose I can kill her out in the battlefield if she bothers me again. Yeah, I see no problem with that.

Time was passing awfully slowly. "What are we waiting for anyway?" I asked, mainly to myself. I was still focused on my nails.

"Mustang and Marcoh should be coming soon with the materials the Fuhrer told us to use," Basque replied.

I already knew Marcoh was the old man who has been trying to make the philosopher's stone for the military – secrets never seem to stay what they should be. But . . . "Mustang?"

"Roy Mustang the Flame Alchemist. You've met him already."

I snorted. Flame! That still sounds funny to me. "Oh, yeah. Him. He doesn't seem to like me. You think I can sue him for emotional distress?" I smiled at how perfect my nails were coming out.

Basque shrugged. "That's a thought. You'd have to prove it, though."

Then Flame and Marcoh came in. Marcoh had a suitcase for Basque and Flame had a glare just for me. Aw, how thoughtful. But Marcoh won when it came to giving because he also had a little speech for all of us. "Why, because of their doctrines the Isbalans have neither alchemists, nor up-to-date weaponry! Want them to demonize us is more? You think that's a long-term answer?"

"Did you bring the materials?" Basque said indifferently, ignoring Marcoh's touching and utterly annoying opinions.

"I did Colonel, but they're still under research," Marcoh answered. "And like I said, we don't need them."

"Have you not seen the reports? The resistance is growing," Basque countered.

"That's because your excessive use of force is creating sympathizers! It's easier for the Isbalans to recruit the other tribes!" Marcoh's whining was getting a tad too excessive.

"What are you trying to say? That our Fuhrer's great cause is unjust?" I said. I finished up my last nail, blew off the residue, and stared fondly at my work of art. Marcoh gave me a disturbed look and Flame was still glaring.

"We lost several thousand men; the civilian casualties are beyond that – the whole country is unstable," Basque explained for all of us. Hopefully, this would get through Marcoh's thick head. "This isn't a humanitarian summit, this is war. Now turn them over Crystal Alchemist – that's an order!"

Marcoh did as he was told to do. He opened up his suitcase for us to see the pretty little bottles containing pretty little red water. That was when Kelly came in, looking rather lost.

"Dominance in a bottle, men," Basque declared as he held up one of the bottles. "Alchemic augmentation. It's my job to end this war quickly and with this I can!" He had this really ugly look on his face when he said that.

"But this war doesn't make sense," Kelly argued weakly. "It's just a waste of the military's time, money, lives . . ."

Basque completely ignored her and headed out the tent with his share of red water. "You men coming or not?" he said as he left for the war zone. Flame took his red water and left at a fast pace. Marcoh meekly followed.

"Men . . ." Kelly repeated. She looked over at the suitcase to see only one remaining vial. Mine, of course. I took it and poured the red water into my hands. It turned into a squishy substance until it became as hard as a gem. I saw it only natural to make a necklace out of it.

"You should learn how speak up to other people," I said to Kelly. Then I shrugged. "Unless you don't really want to be heard."

Kelly smiled. "It's okay; I'm used to being ignored! Except by you – you always answer back for some reason. So . . . are you ready to tell me what your middle name is? If not, then I can't call you by anything 'cause I don't like incomplete names."

"Then from now on, I'm nameless to you. Happy?"

Kelly frowned. "That's weird, though . . . like the things that's been happening here. I guess we really do have to end this quickly."

"Is it something I need to know?" I wondered as I started walking out of the tent. Kelly followed.

"No, the military prefers that no one knows all the bad things the can – and probably will do. But I bet that makes you want to know more, so I'll tell you!" I felt a long monologue coming. "As you could have guessed, we're very influential people. And that's a really bad, in fact horrendous thing to those who oppose us. We can kill them off, no problem, but torturing them is more effective. I guess there's just something about forcing fathers to rape daughters and sons to rape mothers that strike fear into our enemies. Especially for the rest of the family, who are forced to watch. But don't freak out – that's not as common as it used to be! And there are other things too like-"

"Okay, I don't even care about stuff like that, so I think I've heard enough," I interrupted Kelly. But I had to admit, that was quite educational. I would have never guessed the military did such things as if it were normal. Made me wonder about Flame for a moment. If half of what Kelly said was true, I had something to shove in his face!

Kelly looked saddened. That girl just loves talking too much. "Oh, okay then. I'm gonna go check on our wounded people now. Well, good luck with destroying the Ishbalans." Then she left, leaving all the Ishbalans, their homes, and their lives all for me to take!

To start things off, I got myself some little souvenirs. I blew up my way into the nearest house and that red water glowed all bright and pretty. I felt the new power – normally I would need to put in some effort in obliterating half a building, but this was like nothing! I was almost not disappointed when I saw no one was home. But as I went through some drawers, I heard a woman scream. And of course I needed to see what was going on after I shoved the little trinkets I found on my pockets.

"You – men are horrible!" the woman choked on her words. I heard people laughing at her; most likely fellow militants. "Let my son go! Do what you want with me, but-"

"Cut the crap, lady," a militant told her. That was when I walked into the scene. A militant had an arm around a small, crying boy and a gun pointing to the side of his head. Two other militants had the woman restrained to the floor. And, oh yeah, she had a gun pointed to her head, too. These militants were not State Alchemists.

"Hey, what the hell are you weaklings doing here?" I said to them. "This is my territory now – by the Fuhrer's orders!"

"So you're one of those State Alchemists, eh?" one of them said. No shit, dumbass.

"Let us have our fun!" the one holding the boy said. "We've been fighting here a hell of a lot longer here than you have, so cut us some slack!"

"Yeah, those are some compelling arguments," I retorted, "But, y'know, we're kinda here to kill the Ishbalans, not play with them." I was wandering around the room and found some coins on top of a table, and since I liked the designs, I pocketed them. The militants were continuing their perversions. One of them started lifting up the woman's dress. "Hey, don't ignore me or I'll kill you, too!" There was just something about the situation that bothered me.

"Fine, change of plans," the child predator growled. His gun went off, the boy screamed, the woman screamed, blood splattered to the floor, the woman freed herself, attacked the other militant; the boy hit the floor, more blood poured out – and he was still breathing.

"Wow, how elaborately pointless," I commented. The woman ran to her son's side. The other militants pointed their guns at them. "Look, you idiots couldn't even kill that kid. I've been patient long enough." I grabbed one of them and threw him to the others and, boomjust like that, they were gone. Needless to say, the woman was scared shitless.

"Ishbala . . ." the woman murmured as she cradled her son whose eyes were not yet glazed. Blood was everywhere – now that was really bothersome. "What have we done . . .?"

"Nothing, as far as I know," I replied. "So, you're done praying or whatever?" I took her silence as a yes, so in a blast, I killed them, too. See? I can be nice, caring, generous – but how easily they died inspired me. I wanted to see how quickly I can destroy so much. Personal goal: everything in five minutes.

I walked out of the dilapidated house and looked around to decide how to start the bombing. Oh, if only the houses were lined up in neat rows. I grabbed a civilian that crossed my way and was only able to destroy two more closely-build houses with him . . . or her. Yes, that was fun, but too slow.

I had another idea. I busted into another house and – score! It was some sort of shelter for the kiddies. Other non-alchemist militanst were already there, so I told them, "The Fuhrer wants me to count the hostages, so I need them to stand in a line outside." And they had to ask why. "Because it's the only way I can see which ones we should keep." No further questions asked, we escorted my new victims outside. I manually moved the little confused Ishbalans to form a line down the street. Unbeknownst to them, they were already ticking time-bombs.

"What the hell is this accomplishing?" one of the militants asked me.

"You guys should move closer to this house," I told them. And I helped them to their place. Then I backed off from them. Some of the kids had started crying and moving from their place, calling for their parents. But it was too late for all of them. Like a beautiful domino effect, they started exploding one by one, dying anything around them, namely buildings. Now that was awesome, but it still took too long.

Then I got a better idea. I found myself a nice platform where I could see most of Ishbal, clasped my hands on the ground, and . . . wow. Buildings popped as easy as grapes, people were screaming, dying, some of which probably more stupid militants lagging behind. What a beautiful sight, music; the most fun I had in years!

Almost nothing could be seen through all the dust in the air for a while. But before long, it was obvious half of Ishbal was gone. I saw absolutely nothing left in front of me . . . except little moving specs in the distance. Some Ishbalans have been trying to leave – tsk, tsk. I made my way to them, destroying what little was left in my area.

There were much less of them than I expected. And the main guy was really old. How so not cool – the war was already over for me! Well, I had to do something fun. I made my dramatic entrance with another explosion, dust shooting up and all. "Hello," I greeted them, but all they did was gasp and scream in response. Except for the old guy – maybe he was blind. I killed him right away and others died along with the explosion.

The remainders did not look very proud of me. Too bad for them, for I had another brilliant idea! One of these Ishbalans stood out from the rest. No, not the one covered in tattoos; the one talking. I was too busy sorting out my ideas. Limbs should go first; that would be funny, but what about the neck, or maybe make holes? Nah, I chose the classic way – from top to bottom. "I want to destroy you piece-by-piece," I told him. "I'll start with your face!"

I mindlessly flicked the Ishbalan on the forehead with a finger, causing parts of his skin to bubble and shoot up. This formed a perfect x-shaped scar on his face . . . too perfect . . . weird. Oh, well. This guy was not – or could not fight back, so I grabbed one of his arms next. It fell off so wondrously and none of the remaining Ishbalans even tried to help him.

But then I heard some yelling, and it was not one of the Ishbalans. I think Basque was calling us back. I looked over at my victims; the maimed one was pretty hopeless and the others already looked dead. I guess I was done. I went to see what Basque wanted.

He looked so funny! Guns were coming out of his body and he was still shooting at some civilians. "What the hell do you want?" I asked him. "Are we done or what?"

"You are," he said. "You exceeded your quota, as a matter of fact."

"Oh, so there are still more things to destroy?"

Basque was finished with his overkill, so he turned back to normal. "Not for you. And I've already heard many reports on hundreds of missing militants. Care to explain that?"

I shrugged. "Will a 'whoops' suffice?" Then I noticed that there was, in fact, a small area left for me to destroy. And I saw some militants were bringing over captive Ishbalans. I ignored Basque and went towards them. But I heard a click from one of his guns behind me, so I stopped. "Hey, why are you being overdramatic now?" I said, still with my back turned to him.

When the others came, they had guns pointed at me, too. Am I a freakin' magnet or something? "Yeah, that's the guy who was killing our men," one of them said.

"Why, I'm crushed! What proof do you have of that?" I asked.

"Don't take us as idiots," Basque spat. "Now you can surrender and be sent to prison or die here." Yeah, like I had a choice. But what really pissed me off was that they took away my souvenirs! How cheap is that?

Aztec Goddess: Damn, my timing's off now 'cause apparently tomorrow's episode is . . . yeah . . . And where are the reviewers? I'm so lonely. T.T