Little to say, that wasn't the best night to start my time in Amestris.

I cracked open my swollen eyes as sunlight brought me out of the sweet darkness of sleep. Rolling over on the stiff, bare mattress, I groaned, sheltering my eyes from the glare of the off-white walls in the sunlight.

I hate life, I thought exhaustedly, remembering the previous day. The guns, the blood, the military -

My stomach grumbled painfully and I clenched my teeth, shit.

Rolling myself out of bed, I stood up and grabbed the white shirt I had hung on the bedroom door handle (to keep it from getting more wrinkled than it already was) and snuck into the small kitchen area.

After snooping through a multitude of small cabinets, drawers, and a type of old-fashioned cooler, all I could find was a can of expired vegetables and a bent, filthy fork that had fallen behind the stove. I vigorously rinsed it under the faucet in the sink until it seemed relatively clean - or as clean as it could get - and, when determining it clean enough, turned to the can.

Rinsing off the lid, I took the fork and stabbed it hard into the metal, denting it considerably. My eyebrow furrowing, I did it again, harder, my action soon turning into a flurry of stabs before I poked through half the can - not without severely bending the prongs of the fork.

Lifting the lid up as much as I could, I shoveled the vegetables from the can into my mouth, the mutilated fork scraping against the metal of the inside of the can.

Finished but not nearly satisfied, I threw both the empty can and the fork inside an empty, unlined trash bin, tracking over to the sink and leaning my head under it so I could gulp down some water. I'd been through enough diets in my life to know that, even though it was no substitute for food, water could more than help ease the burning pain of hunger in my stomach.

Briefly rinsing my face, neck and arms with water, I turned off the faucet and shook myself dry, running my damp hands through my hair in an effort to calm the bed head.

Walking over to sit on the floor against the closet near the front door, I kept my eyes on my bent knees and crossed my arms over my chest.

Alright, let's come up with a game plan here, I thought, pursing my lips, there's no use crying over spilled milk, if you want to get through this, you need to think of a plan… And it certainly doesn't hurt that you know the past, present and future of pretty much every person you unwittingly bumped into.

I couldn't help the grin that started to overtake my features, including the famous Fullmetal Alchemist Pipsqueak, the hot and ripped Edward Elric - Both my palms hit my cheeks and I cringed. Stop it, stop it, you're not here to hit on Ed! This is life or death and damnit why are those beautifully deep golden eyes stuck in my head -

Agh! I laughed at myself, a panicked and stressed laugh that came out of my throat like something somewhere between a bark and a wheeze. Okay, hormones, compromise: let's figure out a plan first, and then daydream about Ed. Shaking my hands out, I nodded to myself, alright, back on track, let's go.

As I mentally went through the plot of the anime I was now stuck in, a grin creeped across my face as a plan started to form, a plan somewhere between brilliant and suicidally reckless.

By the time I figured I had covered my bases, I got up and looked around the apartment for a clock. Because I'm sure as hell not going to risk poking my head into the lobby for the damn time.

It took a little bit of wandering for my eye to finally catch on a small wooden clock that continued tick, tick, ticking away on the far wall of what I guessed used to be the living room. Walking closer, I squinted at the clock, reading 12:30.

"I have time, okay," I sighed in relief, running a hand through my hair. I looked around a bit, bored, pondering whether or not I should sneak out and look for something when -

Aha! I raced back to the kitchen, retrieving the badly damaged fork and bringing it back into the living room with me. I eyed the wooden floor, weighing the pros and cons before throwing my hands up, screw it, and knelt down on the wooden floor.

Taking the fork in one hand, I bent down and jabbed a jagged fork prong into the polished wood, dragging it across the floor roughly, curving it as I went. Eying my work carefully as I went, I etched down the image that had filled my head and robbed my sleep, lips pursed tightly in expectation and hope.

Here goes nothing, I thought, placing the fork down next to my finished piece and raising my hands above my scrawlings.

The military escort was punctual, appearing at 3 sharp; I kept track of the time with the clock in the apartment, one of the few removable pieces of furnishings left in the empty rooms.

At 2:50 pm, I made a dash out of the apartment and down the stairs, making an awkward walk past the new doorman who lazily swung a set of keys around his finger.

Why do I feel like I'm doing a walk of shame? I thought, avoiding eye contact with the doorman as I walked quickly past, smoothing my clothes and trying to ignore the chuckle from his direction.

A few minutes after I walked through the doors and leaned against the side of the building, a dark uniform appeared before me, and I glanced up into the blue eyes of a soldier.

"Miss La'va?" The soldier asked, and I nodded cautiously. I caught the edge of a grin as he turned on his heel and beckoned me forward.

"Follow me." And I did, a shiver running down my spine.

Five bucks that's Envy and the Fuhrer sent him just to fuck with me, I thought, narrowing my eyes at the figure in front of me.

"So," I said, striding up to walk beside the soldier and giving him a smile somewhere between nervous and friendly, "What's your name? I'm Lynette - er - well, as you already seem to know, haha." The look returned to me was a strange mix of stoicism, amusement and annoyance, and my hands began to sweat.

"Erich," he said, "Lieutenant Erich Knoerr." His eyes asked me why I cared, and I gave a little anxious chuckle.

"Just curious," I said, facing forward, "Lieutenant, do you know who's in charge of the case? I've never been involved in a military issue and I'm just curious about what 'giving an account' entails." His blue eyes were on me again, and when I looked at them, it almost seemed as if everything else went gray; and, in a weird way, gave me the feeling that his eyes weren't actually blue.

"Colonel Roy Mustang is the lead of this case," he remarked flatly, clearly growing bored with our interaction as he stopped in front of an old-fashioned black car.

I, on the other hand, was the farthest thing from bored, my heart leaping into my throat upon those words. I totally forgot that he was in charge of this case. Erich impatiently opened the backseat door and held it, eyes drilling into my vulnerable expression.

"I… I see," I replied tersely, attempting to school my face into one of oblivious nonchalance as I lowered my gaze and slid into the seat. Erich shut the door a little harder than necessary, the startling amount of force making my already anxious form jump.

The engine roared to life under the driver's touch as Erich shut the front passenger door behind him, not daring to look back at me the entire ride as both of us were driven to Central Command.

With wide eyes and my face nearly pressed against the glass window, I gaped at the vast and imposing structure of Central Command as we entered it. The large, towering concrete outer wall sported deep emerald-green banners that blew in the breeze, the logo on all of them no doubt representative of Amestris. Tall towers arose from each corner of the wall, seeming to be outposts overlooking the area. After checking in with security at the main gate, we were waved on and proceeded to drive past the wall and into Command itself.

It was impressive, the large, intimidating concrete buildings rising up to create a beautifully symmetrical layout. Glass windows sparkled underneath beautiful archways and architecture that gave character to the flat grey of the concrete. Lush green grass and trimmed trees dotted the area beside the sidewalks and roads that connected each of the structures.

The car brought us all the way to an enormous, spacious entrance, where it parked to let us out.

Erich held the door open for me, and I nervously stepped out, ignoring his burning gaze in favor of staring up at the building looming over me with a growing unease.

Repeat after me, Lynette. Colonel Roy Mustang is NOT a SNACK.

"Lynette La'va?"

I turned to the source of the voice, my hands clasped together in my lap tightening slightly as my eyes landed on a figure sitting behind a large desk.

Erich had guided me through an office area where I offhandedly recognized who I guessed to be Mustang's subordinates; Riza Hawkeye, with her platinum bun and unenthusiastic brown eyes, Jean Havoc with his grey-blue eyes and short dirty-blonde hair, among all sat at several desks crowded in the center of the space, separated by walls of paperwork between them, only sparing small passing glances in my direction as Erich led me to Colonel Mustang's office.

Erich promptly rushed me in before closing the door behind me, leaving me to fend for myself in front of yet another character I had adored growing up.

And now here I sat, fiddling with my hands as I sat on a couch adjacent to the beautiful mahogany desk that separated me and that very character, the way he called my name in that deep voice of his sending shivers down my spine.

Damn anime thirst traps, he's way too old for me anyway.

"Yes, Colonel?" My hazel eyes met his dark ones and he watched me, setting his chin on laced hands. He meant business, his expression serious but seeming to tone down on recognition of my nervous tensing.

"If it's not too much to ask, may you recount everything you remember from last night's events for me?"

Because I had caught bits and pieces of the edited story the Fuhrer explained to his subordinates the previous evening, I left a few details out, claiming the adrenaline made things blurry and everything happened too fast. A few details being the actual murder and the fact that I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger, and that quite honestly if the Fuhrer hadn't stepped in, the Freezing Alchemist probably would've taken advantage of my fear and killed me on the spot.

As that last realization dawned on me, my hands began to tremble, and I clamped them together firmly in effort to hide it. This is not a place to show weakness.

Mustang's expression softened at my attempt to hide my obvious shaking. She really is just a kid, he mused as he watched me explain what happened, growing increasingly doubtful of the story he had heard previously, the Fuhrer's probably giving her credit for it, but she doesn't seem capable of murder.

When I finally finished recounting the events, he let out a good-natured sigh.

"You did something very brave, Miss La'va."

My eyes widened at his praise and they shot to him instinctively.

"S-so, I'm not in trouble?" I chastised myself for the quake in my voice, but Mustang paid it no heed.

"Trouble?" He asked a bit incredulously, shaking his head, "No, not in the slightest. If anything, that stunt has earned you quite a bit of good repute around here, including some attention from the Fuhrer himself." I gulped.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he insisted on rewarding you for your deeds." Mustang reached behind his desk to grab a small leather suitcase, standing up to maneuver around his desk and holding it out to me. Eyes probably comically wide, I tentatively reached out to grasp the suitcase, balking at the weight of it as Mustang handed it off.

Mustang stepped away to lean back against his desk, arms crossing as he observed me hesitantly placing the case in my lap.

The leather felt smooth under my hands as I looked back and forth between it and Mustang, who nodded at me to open it. My fingers hesitantly drifted to the golden clasp and I undid it, teeth clenched as I opened the case.

The case was filled to the brim with what looked like a foreign paper currency, and my near-empty stomach churned with disgust. This is how they reward someone for murder?

"You stopped something very bad from happening to this city," Mustang reminded me, eyebrows raised as I firmly shut the case after a mere glance, "the Fuhrer insisted on it."

I didn't fully understand, but a part of me was so disgusted with the gesture from the Fuhrer that I wanted to refuse the money. Blood money. But before my body shove it back toward Mustang, I hesitated, another part of me piping up that in this world, I had nothing.

Nothing but the clothes on my back, a dead lead, and the sinking feeling that I had the attention of some very dangerous people.

So I settled with reluctantly setting it down by my feet, glad to get it out of my hands for now. At least it's a start, albeit not the one I wanted.

"How old are you, Miss La'va?" Mustang caught me off guard, and I cleared my throat.

"Seventeen," I answered simply.

"Seventeen, huh?" Mustang considered my answer for a moment before continuing, "Where are you from?" Now that, that I had planned for.

"I'm originally from Dublith in the South, but I don't have any family left and I've been traveling on my own around Amestris for a few years now." I kept it short and straightforward as I gradually grew more confused. "What does this matter?"
"Have you ever thought about joining the military?"

Oh.

OH.

OH HELL N-

"Possibly," I answered, jaw tense. I can't afford to reject any options at this point, I scolded myself, we need to be smart about this. Remember your goal, the plan is flexible.

"It seems like you know your way around firearms," Mustang surmised, studying my expression, "Would you consider training to be a marksman?" His words gave me pause, and I pursed my lips, thinking… until an idea popped into my head and my mouth moved before I really thought it through.

"What about a state alchemist?" A grin broke across my features, eyebrows raised in anticipation.

AHAHAHAHA GUESS WHO DECIDED TO PICK THIS UP AGAIN FOR THE MILLIONTH INCONSISTENT TIME?

Hi guys! How are ya?

My writing might be a little rusty, but it was really fun to pick back up!

What do you think Lynette scrawled into the floor? Interesting...

And Erich! Is he Envy? Or is he just a suspicious prick? Did Lynette catch the hommunculi's interest already, or is she just paranoid? Who knows!

Nothing like childhood crushes and thirst traps galore in this gory and depressing story, honestly!

For those of you who've read the original TGHB, this is slightly different both in timing and location (this starts off prior to Liore instead of after, and in Central instead of East City) so there is going to be a slightly differing plot, but will hopefully achieve a similar end goal (like replacing the thugs in the beginning of the original TGHB with the Freezing Alchemist and ending up with hella coin and military clout).

Whether you're joining me now for the first time or have followed me from when I started this account eight years ago, I want to thank you for your support! 3 Seriously, I love you guys, hope you're all doing well!

Drop a comment about your thoughts/reactions and let me know what you think of this chapter! Don't forget to follow/favorite this story and me as an author for updates if you're interested!

My lovely readers, thank you and until the next chapter!