The Virtue Chronicles
Rating: M
Genre: Drama/Adventure
Disclaimer: I have no ownership rights to FMA. I'm just an obsessed fan, who wanted to write a story involving some of the characters from the anime/manga.

I've noticed that there are other fanfiction's that have used "Chronicles" in their title, or used the "Virtues" in their story. Please keep in mind that I am not trying to steal their work, and if there are any similarities in this fanfiction and the other author's, it is plain coincidence.

Spoiler Alert: If you haven't seen episodes 1-34, I suggest you do so before reading this fanfiction, because some parts may confuse you, and ultimately, ruin crucial plot twists, from the anime. I'm not to sure on the manga though, but just remember that you've been warned!

Special thanks to: Hiromu Arakawa, Square-Enix, Bones, Funimation, and Viz, for bringing FMA to life, and also for posting my fanfiction.

Chapter 2 - Justice is Served

Roy shifted in his chair and stared up at his office clock, watching the minute hand tick away slowly.

"Where have the hours gone?" he thought to himself, sarcastically. The lack of loose papers on his desk suggested that Roy had finished his work for the day. Now, he had to sit around for the next few hours, doing absolutely nothing.

Perfect.

This was one of the few times he didn't put off his work till the last minute, and he can't think of how to use his free hours. Roy almost wished he had a bit more to do; just to keep him busy.

"I'll go make some coffee," Roy decided out loud, in a monotone voice.

Just then a hard knock came on the office door, causing Roy to shoot a startled glance at it.

"Come in."

The door creaked opened, revealing Second Lieutenant Havoc, wearing a disturbed look on his usually calm face. Roy even noticed beads of sweat accumulating on Havoc's forehead.

Havoc took in a quivering breath and spoke faintly. "Something's happened, Colonel, and it isn't pretty."

Roy's wrinkled his brow for a moment, and then relaxed it. A sinking feeling began to fester in his gut.

"Fantastic," Roy thought. "Whatever the matter is, I'll probably have to work over time for it."

"Damn those freaking train seats! It would have felt more comfortable if I sat on a thorn bush," Edward cursed and complained, stepping out of the train car, rubbing his backside with one hand and carrying his tattered suitcase with the other. He walked further ahead, scanning over Centrals busy station lobby.

Edward's feelings toward coming to Central were mixed, depending mostly on the reason behind the trip. This visit wasn't a cheerful one. Edward started walking again, this time at a faster pace. All he cared about right now was getting this seemingly pointless trip over and done with.

Alphonse's armor clanked and rattled as he exited the train car, and then trudged after his older brother. Although Alphonse didn't want to aggravate Edward, he felt the need to ask him some questions. He could almost see and feel the anger radiating off of Edward. Whatever Roy said to Edward, over the phone, must have really gotten his goat.

"Brother, what exactly did Mustang say?"

"He didn't say anything." Edward huffed, still rushing along.

"Come on, Ed. He had to say something."

"I'm serious. Roy didn't say anything. Riza was the one I talked with over the phone."

"Oh," Alphonse muttered. "Well, what did Riza say?"

By this time, the brother's had weaved their way through the human traffic of Centrals train station, and made it to the less occupied streets and sidewalks of the city.

Edward spotted a padded bench, along the sidewalk and signaled Alphonse to follow him to it. The brother's sat down together, taking a short breather.

"All she said was that Roy needed to see me," Edward said, finally answering his younger brother's last question. "He probably needs my help on something, but he's to full of himself to ask for it. That's why he made Riza speak to me."

Over the noise of passing by cars and chattering crowds, Alphonse managed to hear birds chirping, as they few overhead. This brought on a flashflood of memories from his childhood, back in Resembool. He could see himself running across the lush green plains, with Edward, Winry, and Den not too far behind him. Children's laughter echoed throughout his hazy daydream. Alphonse felt somewhat sedated.

"You okay, Al?"

Alphonse twisted his helmet head, to his left, and looked down at Edward, who looked very concerned about him.

"Yeah, I'm fine brother. I was lost in thought, for awhile."

"Okay then. Just making sure everything's alright," Edward said, finishing his sentence with one of his trademark smiles.

Alphonse gave a small laugh and turned his head away. He wondered if Edward knew how goofy he looked, when he smiled like that.

Edward yawned, and then stretched out, on his side of the bench. A moment later, he shot up, grabbing his suitcase.

"Let's get going! I'm sure the Colonel's getting testy by now."

As Alphonse stood up, Edward coughed, clearing out his throat loudly, like he was getting ready to say something important. But before Alphonse could question his brother's eccentric behavior, Edward spoke again.

"Just like I should have heard on the phone," Ed began, and then changed his voice to an annoying, high-pitched tone. "You'd better get here, pronto!"

"Hey!" Alphonse yelled, standing up strait and tall. "Riza."

"No, I wasn't imitating Lt. Hawkeye. That was supposed to be Roy. I was dead on, wasn't I?" Edward was about to let out a noisy laugh, when a stone-cold voice from behind him sent shivers down his spine.

"That was hilarious FullMetal. I'm sure the Colonel will be very amused to hear it as well."

Edward yelled and spun around quickly.

"Oh, hey Lieutenant! Good to see you." Edward chuckled, uneasily. He smiled weakly and scratched the back of his head innocently, with his free hand. "It was just a joke," he continued, "No harm done, right?"

Riza sighed and moved her head from side to side. She pointed with her left hand, over to a car parked across the cobble-stone street.

"You boys need a ride? I can drive you to the office, if you'd prefer not to walk the rest of the way."

Edward and Alphonse turned toward each other, confirming their thoughts. They nodded.

"Yes please!"

"You took long enough." Roy grumbled, propping his elbows on his desk and resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

"Nice to see you too, Colonel." Edward replied, with as much feeling as Roy had.

Edward was seated in a black, U-shaped, leather office chair, with Alphonse, sitting in a similar chair to his, to his left side. Both of them were facing towards Roy's desk. It looked like two students had been misbehaving and were sent to the principal's office. That wasn't the case though; it was a much more serious matter.

"As much as I'd like to hear your progress on the Philosopher's Stone, I can't right now. There is another subject I'd like to bring up right away. It's the reason I called you here on such short notice."

"Great," Edward agreed, crossing his arms. "What is it?"

Roy slide out a drawer from his desk, reached in, and pulled out a heavy cream-colored folder that was filled with other, smaller folders. He raised it up high, and then dropped it onto his desk with a loud thump, as if he were trying to emphasize its heaviness.

"Homicide." Roy said, slow and crisp. "Quite a few, as you can see," he added, grabbing the cover and opening the enormous folder, displaying multiple papers, pictures, and other folders.

Alphonse moved in for a closer look at some of the images. After seeing one picture, he quickly sank back into his chair, gripping the arm rests and letting out a small gasp. He turned to Edward, and then back at the desk.

The room went silent.

Edward frowned, and stared forward at the papers on Roy's desk. He reached out, toward the papers and folders, and then looked up at Roy, for permission to see the evidence. Roy nodded. Collecting the folders in his arms, Edward began to page through everything, scanning over the victim's pictures and profiles. He immediately took note of the cause of death.

"They were all decapitated. It's the work of a serial killer, no doubt." Edward stated, softly.

Roy ran one of his hands through his rich, ebony locks, leaning back and turning his chair slightly toward his office windows. It felt so wrong, to him; having a minor play detective.

"It's odd," Roy sighed. "The way the skin was cut open. The autopsies suggested that the killer didn't use a knife, because there wasn't any metal residue on the wounds. It was most likely ripped by sharpened bones... Or even teeth."

"Was it an animal?" Alphonse suggested.

"Not likely," Roy said. "The killer cut from the back of the neck, down the throat, and then twisted upward, making a full circle."

"Gross." squealed Alphonse.

"They were attacked from above," Edward interrupted. "The killer must have jumped down from some height, grabbed hold, and flipped around the victim's head, while cutting open the victim's neck at the same time. It's perfect for a slice and dice style hit and run."

"Do you see anything in common with the victims, besides the cause of death?"

"Yeah," Edward replied, without a moment of hesitation. "They were all in the military at one time or another."

Another silent moment filled the room.

"Tell me Edward," Roy began, "Is there anything else you see in common with these victims?"

Edward paused, looking back down at the profiles and reports in his hands, reading them again, thoroughly. An instant later Edward gasped, gripping the papers roughly, in disgusted astonishment.

"Brother, what is it?"

"All of the victims," trembled Edward. "They've all been proven innocent of hideous crimes that should have put them on death row, without a second glance!"

"This isn't a case of homicide," admitted Edward with distaste. "It's nothing more then overdue justice."

Alphonse looked back toward his brother. "That's not right though."

"Are you sure about that, Alphonse?" Roy said, almost defensively.

"But,"

"But nothing, Al. All these so called "victims" were cold-blooded bastards whose only interest in the military was to gain political power, no matter what the cost." Edward's voice was harsh and cold. He looked down, letting his hair cover some of his face.

Roy spoke, bitterly. "Colonel Anthony Grantham was a low-rank soldier, when the war against Ishbal started. He was accused of killing four Ishbalian prisoners, without a cause or reason. Yet despite that, his status among the upper-class military improved, and when he returned to Central, he was promoted to Colonel for his heroic efforts."

"And this Major Lamar character," Edward pointed out. "He was caught several times, trying to smuggle female prisoners outside the prison camps, and selling them as slaves or prostitutes. But, it says that there wasn't enough evidence to incriminate him of any injustice against the military. What a bunch of bullshit!"

Alphonse knew that these men did horrible, wrong things to other people, but he knew that violence didn't solve violence. The families, of the victims, had to be devastated now, but later, they'll probably be full of hatred, toward the killer. Then, they'll want to kill the serial killer themselves. This "eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth" business pissed Alphonse off to no end.

"Al, get a load of this," Edward said, scooting closer to his younger brother, with the profile of Lamar opened in his hands.

Edward pointed to a specific spot, under Lamar's profile, and waiting for Alphonse to lower his gaze to it. Alphonse followed his sight to were Edward pointed, and read a very disturbing note about Major Lamar's taste in "product value".

"Some of the female prisoner's, who were being sold to underground brothels, were as old as fifteen, and even some as young as ten."

That was the breaking point.

These men were exceptions to Alphonse's philosophy on punishment. They deserved to die. To Alphonse, they didn't even seem human anymore.

"You and the Colonel are right, brother." Alphonse claimed, with a slight hint of rage, in his shaky voice. "I can say, with every part of my soul, that I hate these men." When he was finished speaking, he slumped into his chair, looking down at the floor, in complete silence.

Edward was taken aback by this. His eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped. He had never heard Alphonse respond in that way, before. It seemed very out of character for his typically merciful younger brother, to say.

Roy had been watching and listening to the brother's conversation since the beginning, and he shared the same reaction as Edward did. He had to admit, Edward was the one who was usually more prone to fly off the handle, but Alphonse was acting like he was ready to get into a fist fight at the tip of a hat. Something about the note must have hit a nerve.

"Yes."

Realizing it was Edward's voice he heard, Roy raised a perplexed eyebrow.

"Yes to what?"

"Your question," Edward said, putting together the various profiles, pictures, and small folders, and then placed them back in the bigger folder, and lastly, setting the whole bundle back on Roy's desk. Roy dropped his attention to the files, then back at Edward with an even more puzzled look, written on his face.

"You want us to go after the killer. That's why you called us here, isn't it?"

The Colonel's face went blank and nodded gently.

"Good, because I want to have a little chit-chat with this "assassin of righteousness"." said Edward, changing back to his normal, cocky tone of voice.

"Be very careful, Edward. Everything points to the serial killer being ex-military, so there is a slight chance that this gore fest may be nothing then a little grudge. It seems unlikely that someone "outside" would have known anything about these war hero's and their dirty deeds. It's up to you to find out the real motive behind all of this."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

Edward and Alphonse rose from their seats, and Roy followed suit. Raising his right arm, Edward saluted Roy. He made a stern face, as he did so. Roy saw this and a small smile crept onto his face.

"No need to be so uptight, FullMetal. How about a handshake?" Roy said, extending his right hand. It's hard to break the tension when you're asking someone to help you hunt down a killer on the loose. This was rather lame, but it was the only thing Roy could think of, at the moment.

Edward shrugged, laughing at his Colonel's weak attempt to switch gears from the previous, dark conversation to a cheerful goodbye.

"Whatever you say, Mustang."

Edward gripped onto Roy's hand, making a clapping noise as he did so.

Then, there came a noise. A noise that Edward feared.

Ping.

"Uh oh!" Alphonse exclaimed.

Edward and Roy both looked at each other with bewildered faces, and then down at the desk, where the foreign noise came from.

Three pairs of eyes watched a tiny screw bounce on the wooden desk, and followed it as it rolled quietly off the table and onto the carpeted floor.

Edward gulped loudly, and a drop of cold sweat ran down the side of his face.

"Well, uh, I think we should get going now." Edward said preparing to pull away from Roy's hand and pick up the loose screw that had come of his auto-mail arm. As he pulled, he felt a jerk on his right arm.

Then, all hell broke loose.

The shrike of metal against metal and the sound of dozens of screws falling onto the floor could be heard outside of Roy's office, followed by loud series of profanity. Everyone leaned outside of their work cubicles and stared at the Colonel's door.

Back inside the office, Roy stood at his desk, with Edward's auto-mail arm still in his right hand.

Edward stood near the door, holding his right shoulder, from which long, nerve-like wires hung down, almost touching the floor.

"What the hell?" Edward squeaked, staring at the hanging, multicolored wires. His eyelids and the corner of his mouth twitched from anger and shock.

"Hmm, that's interesting," Roy said, in a fairly calm voice, as he inspected the auto-mail hand that was till holding on tightly to his hand. He gave it a good shake and it clanked down onto his desk.

Edward growled at Roy. His face turned blood red, and steam shot out of his ears. Alphonse held his enraged, elder brother back, suggesting that he might have used too much oil the last time he loosened up his auto-mail joints. Edward did settle down eventually, after a few more attempts to lunge at Roy and rip him to shreds.

The next step towards fixing his auto-mail wasn't one that Edward was fond of. He worried and fretted for half an hour, before he made the devastating call to his auto-mail mechanic, back in Resembool.

Preview for Chapter 3 - The Liar, the Wrench, and the Auto-Mail Store
Winry strolled leisurely through the open doorway, of the store, and was astonished by what she saw inside.

It was like a dream come true. Bright, glistening auto-mail decorated the walls, to and fro. Arm and leg models stood up on stone podiums, as if they were works of art, being displayed in a museum.

Starry-eyed with excitement, Winry ran up to various parts, taking note of all the detail put into each piece, with precision and accuracy.

"Can I help you?"

Winry jumped, nearly knocking over one of the display models. She turned around and saw a woman about her height, dressed in military clothes, with a mechanic apron on. The woman's thick red hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, with a few strains of loose hair in her face, almost covering one of her brilliant, green eyes. Winry couldn't believe her luck; she found one of the best auto-mail stores on the block, and a fellow female mechanic!

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, um, what's your name?" The woman said, in a kind voice.

"My name's Winry and I'm the one who should be sorry. I almost knocked over this- Oh, I know this will seem kind of rude, but I'm in a hurry, and I was wondering if you had a certain part I'm looking for." Winry said, remembering the job at hand. "It's a duel-action wrist joint with a half inch wax coating, and a balanced center with steel, not iron."

"Let me think," the woman said, bringing a hand up to scratch her chin, and scanning her eyes across the room.

Winry sighed, feeling her heart sink, as her hopes were being crushed. She knew that she'd never find it; the part was way too rare.

"Actually, I think there's one in the back. Stay here; I'll go get it for you."

After Notes
Whew! This chapter toke me forever to type. It's longer then the Prologue, but I think it lacks detail. Do you prefer the chapters to be long, or short? Please leave a review and tell me your opinion. I'll take everything into consideration. Thank you for reading.

With openness and respect, Heza Ulric