Nobody wants him
They just turn their heads
Nobody helps him
Now he has his revenge
"'Entire population of Xenotime murdered: military suspects it's the work of the State Alchemist killer.' I don't like it, Ed; I don't like it at all" said Col. Roy Mustang, tossing the day's newspaper across his desk, turning in his chair to face Ed sitting on the couch. "What's not to like except all the dead bodies?" Edward sarcastically replied rolling his eyes, "And why are you suddenly bringing me into this case after trying so hard to keep me out of it?" Mustang sighed. "Normally I'd like to keep you 'children' away from all things Scar, but killing an entire town, full of people who aren't even alchemists, much less State Alchemists, definitely isn't Scar's M.O. Not only that, but also, at both places this has happened, Youswell and Xenotime, your brother was the one to inform the military about the incidents because he "just-so-happened-to-be-in-the-area" going to pay a visit-" "Are you accusing Al of doing this!-" Ed yelled ready to rip Mustang in half. "-either that or Scar's trying awfully hard to tie you into this. Anyway, you'll be leaving for Xenotime – without Alphonse, of course – with Lt. Col. Maes Hughes; he's in charge of investigations so you'll report to him for the time being. Oh, and Ed, . . . do try not to kill Maes . . . he's just an overly-obsessed father who wants others to share in his joy –" Ed: "coughbullshitcough" "-however, you do have my permission to destroy any and/or all photos said person has" leaning in Mustang added in a whisper, "I'm thinking about getting Hughes' photos of Elicia labeled as contraband" "-so you can take them up and use them to torture Scar when we capture him-" "-or you could sic Winry and her 'wrench-of-death' on him-" "Yeah, or you could let Hawkeye use him for 'Anger Management' purposes-" Click. Ed turned to face the door slowly. There was 1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, trusty gun drawn, pointed at his head, "I. Do not. Need. Anger. Management." "S-s-sure Lieutenant. W-whatever you say" Ed stuttered before running out of the Colonel's office.
"Hm, at first glance it looks like Scar's doing – what with the brains being exploded from the inside an all – but on a second glance . . . look here –" Ed pointed to the corpses' forehead, "- there should be indentions from where his fingers were, but there's not. And if you look on either side of his head, there are indentions there instead; like whoever did it was using both hands and we know Scar can only use one for alchemy." "You're saying it's not him. But they're good enough to imitate him . . . you know, Ed, you're the only State Alchemist capable of doing that. But both times you were in the hospital . . . and both times Al was missing. He's a good enough alchemist to pull it off, right?"
Ed gave a heavy sigh, "'course he's good enough . . . but. . . .Surely he couldn't have done this."
Hughes glanced at all the bodies while speaking, "May be; we definitely know it happened." Hughes' tone changed from serious to mock-serious, "and don't call me Shirley" and gave Ed his trademark mischievous smirk-over-the-shoulder look, but Ed wasn't paying attention: his gaze fell on two boys only a few years younger than him, their pale blond hair caked with blood. He and Al had met them not too long ago, and now both Russell and Fletcher were dead.
'He couldn't. He wouldn't. And even if he did, I won't believe it until I see it with my own two eyes . . .'
"Lior! LiorLiorLiorLior! – why didn't I realize it earlier! – he's going to attack Lior next!" Edward scram as he ran out the door, grabbing his coat along the way, praying to an unknown god that he would get there before it was too late
After 1 train ride, 2 hitch-hikes, and 5 hours running in the desert, Ed finally stumbled into Lior. He was so tired, thirsty, aching, and out of breath that he didn't notice he was finally there, or that he was the only on there until he reached the water fountain. He dunked his face into the fountain – greedy with thirst – then immediately withdrew his face, spitting out all he'd collected, disappointed the people had kept it filled with red wine even after Cornello was gone. Wait. There was no sound. He looked around. No one. But there should be – "-oh-shit" Ed whispered, eyes going wide. Written on a wall in crimson letters no one could miss: 'Run, run, as fast as you can – you'll never catch me I'm the gingerbread man.'
Ed realized what filled the fountain wasn't wine. He nearly fainted.