Hohenheim got out of the car and waved his friend good-bye. "Good bye, you bad boy." he gibed and laughed once again. Mustang obviously annoyed about that regretted having told his friend about this incident. "Next time, I want to hear a story about youth. And it'd better be something embarassing too." threatened Roy and drove away.

Hohenheim stepped inside and found noone present. "I guess they are alseep already." he thought to himself and threw his jacket over the chair in the kitchen.

Fetching a little snack he went to bed.

----

His hand reached for the ringing cellphone. "Elric here, what's the matter?"

Roy had rung him up. "Hey man, I found the next hint. Care to come and take a look?"

"Where am I supposed to come to?" grunted Hohenheim sitting up straight and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

"The house we found the victim at yesterday?" he repeated. "Alright then. Hang on, I'll be right there."

Sighing once again Hohenheim swung his legs out of the bed and dressed.

Tiptoeing down into the hall he fetched his jacket, the car keys and left a quick note. "Am out. Back tomorrow morning. Dad"

Hohenheim pulled his car up to the house he had previously been at. Stepping inside a strong smell hit his face. "God Mustang, what is that?" he exclaimed covering his nose with his sleeve.

"Well that is to be expected when a dead is lying on the floor day and night." his companion chuckeled.

"Come and take a look at that." Mustang added and lifted the victim's shirt. Onto the his chest it was carved. "Three was the left-over crew, one was a traitor, then they were only two." read Hohenheim.

"How disgusting, carved into a man's chest." snarled the elder looking away. "I'm surprised to even managed to write this pretty long message on there."

"Well yes, the first part is written on his chest, the rest of the rhyme on his back. They are getting desperate it seems." explained the elder in a placid way, that made Roy feel uneasy. He sighed. "So this leaves two Alchemists. One must survive, right?"

"I suppose. And the one surviving-"

"Is the one who has your wife." interjected Roy.

"I'm not even sure wheter she is still alive." Hohenheim dropped his face into his hands. He sat down on a chair and sighed.

"Hohenheim-" his friend tried to comfort him.

"Stop it!" he exclaimed throwing a vase to the floor that bursted into thousand pieces. "What if she was not alive to begin with! All we do lately is running after hints." he sobbed. "Who – I ask you – who guarantee's me that I will see her again alive?" His sobbing got heavier and heavier.

Roy knealt down besides his friend and patted his shoulder. "Look." he hesitated. "You've come this far, digged in the deepest shit only to give up now?"

Hohenheim rushed to his feet and paced through the room, his right hand rested on his forehead. "I know." he sobbed. "I know. And I thank you a lot for going this way with me."

"There is-" the Colonel began but was cut short by the elder again. "No." he chocked on his words. "No. My sons, they believe it's ok. But they are wrong." his voice trembeled. "Nothing is ok. We are a victim of humankind's sickest people."

"Tell me then, Hohenheim. If you are so sure it's of no use, going on that is. Do you really want to admit your defeat then? Think back, what did you do so far? The things you saw, can you ignore them so easily. It's harsh, yes it is, and it's not nice, but we've seen so many dead, that two more wont change anything anymore. We are too close to give up, are we not?" Roy explained. His voice was calm and gentle. He could imagine how he must felt. He would have given up a lot earlier if it was for his beloved to be kidnapped. 'I would have given up after the first two.' he told himself.

"You are right. Sorry my friend for being a fool. Maybe it's the bad boys that have most faith." Hohenheim chuckeled.

"Am I just surmising or are you making fun of me every chance you get?" noticed Roy.

"Conceit would require that you've got imagination." gibed Hohenheim.

Roy grunted and changed the subject. "So what to do now? This hint obviously is not an easy one."

"I know it isn't. Maybe all we can do this time is sit back and relax, sooner or later a dead will appear." retorted Hohenheim. "Besides, the dead wont run away."

"You are kidding me." frowned the Colonel.

"I am certainly not, my friend. Seems as if this time, we got nothing to do."

"Feels scary." retorted the Colonel still waiting for Hohenheim to tell him it's a joke.

"I know it does. Now that I think about it, maybe I am one of those that are supposed to get killed too. After all, I was part of them." Hohenheim touched his chin, tilting his head a little.

Roy's jaw dropped open. "Now tell me already you are kidding me! That can't be. Why should they play this damned game and kill you in the end?" he yelled, seizing his friend's arm.

"Is it all that surprising? You and I, we have seen the ways of their killing. And don't forget, I reckon, noone ever played this game to its end."

Roy swallowed and let go of the elder's arm. "You are officially crazy now."

"I-"

"No forget it!" interjected Mustang. "You are just a foolish old man." snarled the younger and turned his back to him.

Hohenheim cleaned his glasses with his sleeve. "God you've been freaking out a few minutes ago and now you are so god damn calm, someone could carry your kids away and you would not move ya finger!" Breathing heavy Roy stared at the elder. No sign of movement. "So?"

"I have been thinking."

"Thinking?" Roy thudded onto his knees. "I wasted my prescious breath, yelling at someone, who has just been." he swallowed. "thinking?" Looking up at Hohenheim as though he expected to hear the world's best plan, Hohenheim sat down and retorted placidly while putting on his glasses. "Yes, thinking, indeed." he nodded. "Traitor. A friend of mine, who I barely interacted with-"

"Why are you calling him a friend then?" interjected Roy, still sitting in the same position on the ground. The elder sighed. "Somebody, who I barely interacted with, was called Tutor, but for fun everyone called him Traitor. I reckon, he is our next victim."

"That's pretty far-fetched."

"Remember the woman we found in the old cellar with red lips? Now tell me finding her there, neatly dressed, was not far-fetched."

Roy grunted. "Ok then, so let's assume the next victim is this Tutor-Traitor guy. What shall we do? We can't save him anyways."

"I know. Mind telling me more about your youth?" chuckeled the blonde, beaming down at the younger from his armchair.

"Today, it's your turn."