Shadow's Domain

The Major had been patient for long enough.

He was due to have contact from Colonel Mustang over 48 hours ago and still he had heard nothing from the team in Turinene. He yearned for more than anything that he had accompanied them on the trip. From experience, he knew that Viola Cadence could be temperamental if she had large quantities of work to complete, and was not an advocate for the fine gatherings that the Armstrong family arranged thrice a year (and what a wonderfully sophisticated event it always was). She was much like his oldest sister, Olivier; they were immersed in their work that it became all they were.

Although this was appearing to be the case for the Major. He had been a sentimental soul from when he was a young boy and the prominent curl on his head had been cut a centimetre too short. His sister had called this a "petty and ridiculous concern", however to a young Alex Louis Armstrong, it had been a matter of upmost importance. He could understand the logical thought of his sister now though. His body quivered and no amount of consolidating thoughts could shake the nerves away, like troublesome pests.

What was equally as alarming were the whispers he had been hearing around Central Command were. The higher ups were doing this…someone had been murdered in their own garden…

Or the most recent rumour he had heard: the Central State Prison was heavily understaffed. There was no explanation as to why and nobody from the military were being ordered to tend to the building. They had been told little to nothing.

And this made Alex quiver once again. After one bad thing happened, a situation could quickly escalate like an avalanche, until one was suffocating in adversity. The boys…the radio…Turinene. Something wasn't right here.

And the Major was beginning to ponder as to whether the rumours were a freakish occurrence to what happened in Turinene, or that something was deeper at work here.

There was only one way to find out…

All was quiet. The moon was bright, and the untouched glass of whisky glistened in the moonlight. However, the coffee mug that rested next to it had been drained a long time ago. Even though Roy Mustang yearned for nothing less than to drink his sorrows away – it had been a long day – and his leg was in ballistic amounts of pain. He was standing guard outside in the corridor, at the junction that split the Elric brother's bedrooms up. The morphine shot he had had had numbed the pain, but he had refused a stronger dose in the case that it made him drowsy; that could not happen.

He sifted his fingers through his hair and sighed wearily. He had to stay alert. Roy stared up towards the gigantic white moon, wondering how one could find solace in a ball of frozen rock floating in space, while the Sun was a mass of helium and hydrogen. That was the way he had been made, a scientist, but sometimes he wished he didn't see the world so literally, as he couldn't be granted solace from the celestial bodies that reigned the sky, day and night.

They could not give him answers; he had to answer the mysteries of their powers for himself. It was his duty as an alchemist to learn all he could about the world to help make it a better place. However, there were also the people to think about. For Roy they had come first, and they would always be first on his agenda. He was the Flame Alchemist, notorious State Alchemist and murderer, a heartless killing machine who thought this world was beautiful and tried his damned hardest every moment to make it a better place. A smirk slipped past his guard – he even tolerated the paperwork (although he knew he tolerated it also because Hawkeye had hidden firearms inches from his face while he was crouched over his desk for eight consecutive hours mindlessly signing documents.)

Roy had just taken a seat, but his body was trembling with the effects of the day. He buried his face into his lap and imagined the waxy white petals of the daffodils, grown completely out of season that had been sent along with Fullmetal's mangled automail arm. The petals had been preserved so perfectly. Dew had been dripping from its silken-like furls, and pollen blew like dust in the sunlight when he had opened the package. It had been a beautiful yet harrowing sight. And it was burnt into his mind at that moment.

The white daffodils had become shrivelled and sapped of the life it contained. They had been cut from their life source and as a result they had started to wilt, decay. It was the process of life. Birth and death. Hope and suffer. As an alchemist, he knew how interconnected the processes in the world were. Nothing could stop that cycle (how damn useless was he) but he could make a difference. He could stop children being enlisted into the military just so they could grab resources that could lead them closer to a legend and then the world would snatch away that hope and shit on their effort and then they would begin all over again and succeed in part but after all they had given that is the least that they had deserved-

-And then they were blinded, deafened and fucked.-

They had become fearful of being touched or looked at because they couldn't see back-

-Because they had been used and abused like whipped, beaten animals locked in a prison for over a month. Imagine living through a nightmare day in day out.-

Those boys had lived locked in a dungeon capturing their souls and sucking their hopes and dreams until they had become hopeless and grey in a void. It was all entire fault. If only he had been more punctual to work and heeded the alarm bells ringing in his mind the day when Edward had not shown up to give his report. Or the fact that he had heard of no sightings of the Elric brothers (they kept themselves well-known and this was not only due to their standout appearances. The older one in particular had the habit of making himself noticed despite being small enough to fit in the gap between a stitch from his ignition gloves). He had ignored the signs because he was fatigued and hectic – he had been too bloody focused on working his way to the damn top (and he squinted his eyes - why was the moon so goddamn bright tonight). He should have realized how much they had needed him sooner.

And the same issue was being repeated with Fuery.

He shook his head, trying to quash the swimming thoughts that were racing in his head faster than his heart could pump the damn oxygen to his brain. Roy had been doing his damn hardest not to break down after seeing Ed and Al in the states that they had been. However, he had already released the floodgates of his overwhelming emotions and demons-

-Don't forget we are here watching and waiting.-

Fuck off.

-As you wish. But you cannot control us. We always win, and you know that best of all, don't you.-

His team must have seen how crippled he was inside. While Fullmetal may have pushed around two stumps, Roy knew for a fact that he had been the more broken one and now he scorned himself for ever thinking that because seeing Edward had been him looking at what breaking point really was and what a selfish bastard he had been oh God Fullmetal had been right to call him arrogant and pompous.

-You little worthless, useless piece of shit. Where were you? Where the fuck were you?-

I tried. I looked. I-

-The excuses become more pitiful. Bow the knee and apologise, Roy Mustang. This is amusing – you think you can become the Fuhrer of an entire nation when you failed to protect two boys.-

…

… "Roy! Come on buddy, snap out of this," Roy blinked and there in front of him Maes Hughes slipped a hot piping cup into his hands. He inhaled the bittersweet aroma of black coffee. Goddamn he needed that now. His hands however were trembling so violently that he couldn't hold onto them properly. What the Hell had been wrong with him? At times, it felt like his world was falling apart on purpose, as if God wanted him to suffer. That was the way he would become Fuhrer – he had to lose everything he had in order to gain the ascension and leadership he had been striving towards since Ishval.

How had he become so frail?

In truth, he would still be buried in deep shit if it had not been for his team. And Hughes. Brilliant, loyal, dedicated hyperactive-family-man Maes Hughes, who was staring concerned at him now. The glint of the man's glasses was made visibly brighter by that white gleaming moon and the dazzle from the light reflected directly into Roy's eyes and he felt his body reel against his will-

Was this what it was like to tumble into Hell? That was where he had supposedly treaded according to the public eye on State Alchemists. Some press coverage supported the fact that he was possessed by the Devil, and that the flames he conjured were licked by his own heinous home – the pits of Hell. He could picture the barren wasteland of Ishval, taste the agony of burning flesh and hear the crunch of rotting baby bones beneath his feet-

"Roy!" Hughes repeated, and Roy realized that he had let his mind slip into a trance again. It had happened frequently after Ishval, although Roy had gotten better. He had never completely recovered (nobody was expected to recover from the acts of genocide he committed with a pair of gloves and a mind that knew too damn much) , but he had learnt to manage with the flashbacks and the torturous memories. But they were being thrown into his face once again, seeing the young boys suffer so much.

He was so weak.

-You know that.-

I've had enough of you. Go away.

-You'll never forget those glazed eyes.-

Don't remind me. I know I know I know.

-The eyes of the dead. But also the eyes of the living who became hollow inside.-

Don't…

-The eyes of torture victims, and you did nothing.-

Should have been faster…should have…

-You should have cared, Colonel Roy Mustang. You missed sanity's deadline. They're broken.-

Images flashed in his mind of broken toys, which were actually people, slumped against the wall, huddled close together waiting for the pack of men, laughing wildly like hyenas, to move in and perform their dirty work. The children had been left tainted and scarred in that dark den. They would not be able to forget easily.

"Please, I'm sorry," Roy shuddered, and he let the coffee mug slip from his grasp. Willingly or unwillingly, he was not sure. The scent of the caffeine was making his brain work overtime and the adrenaline was coursing through his veins, making him sit at the edge of his seat as his body fought valiantly against exhaustion. He could not let sleep claim him.

"Roy, what did you do?" Maes asked tentatively, and he reached with his hand to rest it over his oldest friend's. He crouched low so he was eye level with the raven-haired man. Dark eyes lowered, and closed momentarily, but Roy regained full lucidity as he felt his heart physically shatter inside.

"I went and saw Alphonse," Roy shuddered. He had been in there but fifteen minutes ago. The last time he had seen the gaunt Elric brother, he had been sleeping peacefully, although the change in appearance that Roy had seen in the core had shaken him to the bone. He had knelt by the blond's head and uttered his apologies (despite how useless they were to them know considering the shit was over).

"He cried and tossed and turned, Maes," Roy recalled.

-That was the biggest lie I have ever heard, Flame.-

He wasn't peaceful…he was suffering…

-He was weeping and you pathetic, sick twisted excuse of a man stood and watched as the boy cried out for his brother. He was in agony. His mind has become so broken it can no longer discern between reality and dream. Is this what you wanted?-

You really do like to talk, bastard.

-There is so much to say. Especially about what a failure you are.-

Roy remembered exactly what Alphonse had said. That was the shit thing about being an alchemist – he noticed and remembered every single fucking detail. Berthold Hawkeye had drilled the importance of scrutiny in his alchemy training from day one, but that also gifted him with a near-perfect memory. Pay attention to the detail. And most importantly of all: don't forget. Don't ever forget.

"Brother, don't come near him, you don't know who you're messing with. Please take me instead, don't don't don't no! Nononono BAD! NOOO!" the boy had screamed. He had screamed high-pitched into the night, but the walls had been thick and likely soundproof (the building had once been a military hospital and most likely designed to allow other patients a peaceful night's rest while others screamed in agony behind those damn closed doors). He had fought them and writhed in his sleep, the horrible, raw truth of torture in its element, trying to protect his brother from their clutches.

Roy knew with a sickening feeling in his gut who the 'them' were and what they were doing.

It was late. That was all he knew as he sighed wearily. It was the time when the shadows, dormant and kept at bay by the Sun came crawling from their dens to haunt their hosts – the minds of men. They talked and whispered and spoke little things. They didn't leave Roy out. Why would they forget about him after the heinous crimes he had committed?

-Confess.-

I have!

-That is nothing. You think and say silly words. They are trivial.-

I mean everything I say.

-Doesn't always sound like it now does it, murderer...-

I know.

-Of course you do. You must never forget. When you feel the weight of your crimes push so hard against your shoulders so that it feels like your brain will explode is the time for you to confess.-

Bugger off you little piece of shit.

-Don't underestimate me, us. We will break you until there is nothing left to break. And then you will confess.-

"Maes, why is the moon so fucking bright?" Roy gasped, feeling its light shine into his soul and equally tear him apart. In Ishval he had always cursed that damn bright Sun, but now it was the moon which was shining fervently through the windows-

Instead of coming out with a jovial comment, Maes swore quietly under his breath, his hands streaming through his hair. His Investigations face appeared. Behind his glasses, Roy could see his eyes moving, taking into account numerous factors that the Colonel's lethargic brain couldn't keep up with right now, like a drunk trying to make sense of their rational sober friend (which definitely did not apply to them).

"Goddammit!" Maes' protest caused Mustang to leap in his bones. He was alert before his best friend had finished speaking.

"Hughes," Roy started.

"Get those boys out of here. That bright light is no moon, dumbass, it's a bloody beacon! A beacon for an attack undercover…" Maes stressed, and he was running across to Edward's room without a moment's notice.

Roy knew what he needed to do. How had he not noticed before? There was no moon out tonight. He cursed as pain lanced up his leg. He bit his lip and let it bleed. Anything to numb the pain. A little.

He pushed his way into Al's bedroom, and by this point the Armstrong mansion was lit up. Alphonse had awoken naturally and blinked owlishly in the Colonel's direction, but the panic on the Colonel's face made his point clear. This was not a time to delay. Al tried to form words on his lips, but Roy shook his head and indicated with a nudge of his elbow that he was going to take him outside. The blond nodded and yawned, clearly not fully awoken yet. Roy whispered an apology under his breath and grabbed hold of the younger Elric brother around the waist and lifted him over his shoulder. Al squealed in protest, muttering incoherent, sleep-addled phrases as though he was dreaming, but the pain he was in was clear in his tone. Roy winced at the patches of bruises that lined the teenager's body. Even if some of the wounds opened, his life would be spared. Hopefully.

Roy hurried out of the bedroom, his movements sluggish. Maes was in front of him holding a thrashing Edward, and Roy would have laughed if not for the circumstance. The Colonel and Lieutenant Colonel looked like damn stunt doubles. For now: keep damn moving.

The mansion, being a former hospital, was thankfully ordered systematically. Once they had exited the former patient ward, they were close enough to see the main entrance glistening in the distance with its lights, like mini lanterns. Roy's pulse was racing and his leg was in damn agony. His whole body was throbbing, but the adrenaline coursed through him and numbed his pain, like a tidal wave out deep at sea.

"C-colonel, w-what's happening?" Al questioned, his voice shaky and confused. The image of the lost and frail child he was.

"Get off me! Leave me alone Kimblee what the fuck do you want to do to me now? Go on…GO ON!" Edward shrieked, his waking fever dreams terrifying Roy. The intensity of the boy's nightmares was all too real.

Gathered in the hall was the Armstrong staff, with Doctor Armstrong at the head delegating tasks to each member of staff. Hawkeye caught Roy's eye (likely from hearing Edward's screaming) and moved swiftly over to his side. Havoc was too busy chewing his nail staring at the ground to notice his superior entering. But even he lifted his head when Edward screamed again:

"NO DON'T YOU DARE, YOU FILTHY EXCUSE OF A HUMAN BEING!" He writhed in agony and Maes was forced to lower the crippled boy to the floor without his automail. Al struggled in Roy's grip and lowered the boy down immediately.

"B-brother, don't worry. I-I'm here," Al whispered sadly, watching his brother sadly, trying to get close enough so they were touching. Edward's body stiffened, as if his fight or flight response was delayed. It was as though he was on a precipice, lurching and waiting to see if he fell or survived.

"You're a sick bastard, Kimblee," Ed's voice had become deathly quiet, and it was the only thing that Roy could hear over the clamour. His muscles tightened and tensed.

And then the elder brother started laughing. He threw back his dishevelled head and started laughing towards the night sky, "this is how sick and twisted you are! You're making me hallucinate and hear the voices of the Bastard Colonel and my brother. I won't fall for it…I won't drop my guard…don't touch me!"

Edward never spoke so much. He was talking to his demons, but the change in tone made it sound like he was talking to himself.

Roy couldn't pay the boys his full attention. Viola Cadence Armstrong had stormed up to the two officers, and she said, "you're trouble. Damn military."

"What's the status?" he asked, wishing he could cut off his leg and be done with its grievous wounds. However, he looked over towards the boy missing half of his appendages, and swallowed the thought (along with his pride).

("Brother, I-I'm here. P-please believe me. Sorrysorrysorry").

"There are at least a dozen individuals out there. Highly trained," Roy's attention moved down to her arm that was badly patched up with a bandage, "they have snipers."

"Hawkeye, update me on numbers and positions," Roy ordered brusquely.

"Yes, Sir," and she was gone with a shuffle of the rifle by her side.

("I don't want you! Take your greed and shove it up your rat's ass, you damn psychopath. I won't surrender nononoNO").

The surgeon sighed under her breath and rubbed the sweat from her forehead with a good arm, "what do you suggest, Dog?"

"If we are surrounded, we shouldn't evacuate yet," Roy answered fluidly, his years of training at the academy (and butchering bodies at the front line), coming to the forefront of his mind, "we'll have to draw them out. Use bait."

"And you, Roy Mustang, propose that you be the bait," Maes finished before Roy could complete his tactical thinking. Damn his brain wasn't working. Without his logic, his firm companion, by his side, their chances of surviving through the night was slim. They could make it with pot luck. Hopefully.

"Maes-"

"Don't think it hasn't occurred to me. Two of the best alchemists – prodigies – were taken away. They could have easily kept out of our reach for even longer. It's almost as if they wanted the boys to escape with the lack of security they had in the tunnels."

"Are you saying…this was planned?" Havoc gasped, beginning to shake slightly.

"They want you, Roy Mustang. Flame Alchemist. Youngest Colonel with some damn powerful flame alchemy up his sleeve…or on his glove more precisely," Maes self-corrected, before whining, "I wish I hadn't left that photo album of Elicia and Gracia in the office. I miss seeing their perfect faces…"

"I'll go," Havoc offered.

"No" three voices replied simultaneously.

("Is that really you, Al? This isn't a bad dream, is it? Everything's…so damn loud…in my head").

(I-I'm here, Brother").

("Only my little brother is as warm as you…Al, that's really you, isn't it? Dammit all!)

("H-here").

("GET AWAY FROM ME! I'll…hurt you").

At that moment, Roy heard the raining of gunshots from above him. They lit up the night sky with an array of colour. He then realized that there were clouds covering the sky, and that the moon had slipped behind the horizon. The glass panels leading outside with the pastures of sheep in their fields shone too brightly due to the beacon that seemed to be moving closer to the mansion, pressing closer and drawing them in as though they were the slaughter animals.

Someone must have followed him back from the tunnels. Why did he have to fuck up so badly? He had wanted to find Fuery and restore some justice to the screaming boys, who could not tell reality apart from the endless weeks of torture in their minds.

Shadows reigned. In the darkness, it was hard to see anything, apart from the blur of the lights, facing away from Turinene.

When suddenly…an explosion shattered through the night.

Roy's mind was whisked back to Ishval. There was one menace who could destroy a civilisation with the clap of his hands and a devilish grin.

The Crimson Alchemist was out there. And Roy's world suddenly became much, much darker.

Oh cliffhanger! I've been wanting to write the Kimblee brothers' confrontation since starting this story, and it is close. Next chapter will involve an anticipated battle scene, which I'm looking forward to update.

In answer to me seemingly never-ending hiatus, it's not because I would ever abandon my stories. I've been busy over the last part of summer and then I was quite sick. I'm back to full health now though, and with a clear head, the plot bunnies are working overtime.

Thank you for your patience, and I'll see you with the next update. Your support is amazing - it helped me stay motivated into getting better again :)