Choices: Part II

~The Unforeseen Foreseen Event~

Edward's face was wet when he woke up. Tears were streaming down his eyes and he didn't understand why. Nightmares fucking plagued him but rightly so. It was his incentive to move forward. Keep moving forward, Ed and Al, EdandAl against the world. Just the two of them-

The creaking of Al's well-worn armour would ease Ed back into reality. His gentle voice. His brother's soul, so precious, so fucking precious.

It soothed Ed's mind. The nightmares were ferocious; he woke up sweating and shivering as though he had a fever. His whole body would hurt. But he would never cry. He had not cried since he had his automail installed, feeling a fraction of the loss for his own body. He felt the loss for Al's body strongest. Why should he have the right to weep when his brother couldn't escape from reality into solace of dreams? How had his brother forgiven him?

Alphonse's nightmare was the fact he lived each day and night awake. Those long and lonely nights…

Ed never cried when he awoke from nightmares. Shaken and trembling.

But this time, the tears were falling like they would never stop.

But Al would be there to ease his mind.

He glanced around the room but didn't see the familiar (and distinguishable) armour that his brother currently used for a body.

Al would never have left him in the middle of the night. Panic pulsed at the edge of his consciousness; he trusted Al and knew logically that his little brother was more than damn competent alone at night-

But Ed's mind was too fucking loud-

What if Al had been taken? Had someone in the military ratted them out? Had a divine being come to take more and more (until nothing was left) from two arrogant boys?

Come on, Elric. You've got to use your head here. Al's tough. Al's ok. Just go and find him. Prove these illogical thoughts wrong.

The door to the hotel room was shut. So Al must have left and closed it behind him. Someone could not have taken his brother away; Al would have put up a fight and Ed would have woken up, instincts and adrenaline honed to save him from many sticky situations. And Al could not be knocked out unconscious.

Al must have gone for a wander. He brushed the curtains to the side. The sky was paling, milky white and pink in the early light. Close to dawn.

And Ed knew exactly where Al would be.

Ed followed Al's invisible footsteps. He passed through corridors and climbed up the stairs. His automail creaked due to lack of maintenance. Life had become a blur. So much had happened. And with the loss of the Philosopher's Stone as a way for him and Al to get their bodies back, the Fifth Laboratory had revived the vigour of the brothers. There were secrets to uncover, conspiracies to decipher all surrounding the Stone. Ed believed it would lead to a means to recover what they had lost.

He had no choice but to believe.

And he made it to the roof.

There his brother stood, armour reflecting the milky hues of morning. His plume moved in the breeze, like the linen had on the rooftop of the hospital. When they had sparred and Ed had beaten his little brother for the first time. That had been recently. But ever since then, Al had held an affinity for higher places. As if to become closer to the sun.

"Al!" Ed called out.

Al jumped, shaken from his reverie, "brother? I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"Nah. Nightmare."

"Oh. Sorry, brother," Al's helmet creaked as he looked at Ed who was now standing by his side.

"You have nothing to apologise for, Al," Ed thumped Al's armour lightly with his fist.

"Ok, brother," Al paused, "brother, I was wondering…"

Ed would have interrupted his brother in the past. But now he waited and listened, the nightmare still floating around the edge of his mind like a ghost.

"Do you think we'll get our bodies back soon?" Al whispered, "it's so cold. I can't feel the rays of the sun, I don't dream. And I can't imagine what it must be like for you, brother."

"Of course we will, Al," Ed grinned wolfishly and stared at the reddening sky, "did you fucking hear that, God? We're coming for you!"

"Brother!" Al started laughing but nodded, "together."

"Always, Al," Ed felt a faint smile cross his lips, nightmare abating.

But when the dawn burst into being over in the east, fire igniting from nothingness, Ed felt the nightmare vanquish. They had leads to chase. Places to be.

And this felt like the perfect start-

Crash.

Al.

Collapsed.

Armour. Nothing. No response. Just armour.

Al's soul…

Where was it?

Couldn't be. The armour… had it rejected his soul?

Ed tore off Al's helmet but the blood seal was intact. As pristine as it had been the day he had carved it with the blood spewing from his leg-

He hadn't had time to think back then, had he?

-What are you going to do?-

Ed's heart pounded. There had been a voice in his head. It sounded like his, it sounded like Truth's but meshed and distorted, as if someone had shoved barbed wire down his throat. The voice laughed.

-You know what you have to do to save, Alphonse.-

The formula was at Ed's fingertips before he could think. He had no time. He could feel time running out, pressing him into a corner, forcing him to act-

He would have done anything else. If he had known. If he had had time. But here he was, using a fucking last resort, fucking desperate, again.

He slapped his hands together and the force of the alchemy made his stomach churn but he clung onto Al's armour as the world turned to white.

Greedy black hands broke him down. He was swallowed into the void, willing himself to move faster.

Human transmutation.

He had to unite Al's body and soul together and unite them back to the reality. Connection.

If he was restoring connection, that meant he had to give something to balance that.

By severing his.

He wouldn't give his life. That was selfish. But if his ties to reality were diminished, it would be worth it for Al. It might shorten his lifespan but it was the damn best solution he had.

And the pioneer in his head would never be satisfied. Ed had a ravenous mind that could not be sated. Alchemy was a drug. The night of their attempt to resurrect their mother had been their first insight in to the consequences of this science.

But still they kept coming back for more.

For without alchemy, what was he?

A sad and lonely little boy without his brother.

He would do this.

And before he could change his mind, he felt his body being deconstructed as he was hurtled towards the Portal. He had not wanted to come back here. Not like this. His brother needed him to be strong and that was what he was going to be.

His vision was surrounded by a blinding whiteness. Vertigo. Butterflies.

He blinked and stumbled to his feet. Not a second to lose.

Where was Al?

He couldn't see Al.

But he could sense his brother. There was a tangible presence in Truth's void, as though keeping Al alive had become his reason, his truth and permeated in all spaces. Reminding Ed with each stabbing breath that his brother did not have a body. He was going to be reunited with it-

Just you wait, Al.

"Here you are again!" Truth greeted him with the sweetest and most sinister smile the entity had to offer.

Ed swallowed. He was the Fullmetal Alchemist. And he had a body to save. He took a deep breath and took a step forwards.

The morning was like any other. Birds tweeted their songs and the world was beginning to stir; cars were edging through the rush hour traffic; coffee shops had their regular customers queuing out of the doors and military personnel trudged in their boots into HQ.

Someone else was stirring.

A flicker, a blink, a groan. And then Alphonse's eyes opened. They winced at the bright light and his hands instinctively rose to guard his eyes. As soon as he did, his muscles ached. He was in pain, he was weak but-

Tears rolled down his face. He coughed weakly, his knotted and naked body pathetically atrophied and useless. But the tingles of the gentle rays of sunshine beamed on his face. The morning had never been brighter and so too was his future.

But his tears were tears of loss. He could sense something amiss, like an aching in his gut. Maybe it was because his brother had still got his automail. What could have been wrong with Brother?

Brother was still passed out but as Alphonse thought that, he could see his brother stirring from sleep, the look of displeasure that it was so damn early only too familiar to Al. Ed was definitely not an early bird.

Deep bags were buried beneath his brother's eyes, but nothing was missing. Ed was here. Had he found a way? Had he overcome equivalency?

"Brother," Al croaked, his voice no longer reverberating through a metallic shell. He could see the armour he had shed next to him, lifeless and doll-like without his soul to touch the object with humanity.

Edward Elric raised his head. Golden eyes blinked, seemingly dull, but after a second had passed, his cheeks were flushed with colour and his gained that fire. The fire that guided Al even on the darkest night. He didn't mind the rain, and the nights were bearable. Because he had his brother- his Sun, to guide him.

Not like this. Not sunshine. Brother was fiercer than that; he was not simply a light. He was amber sunbeams, he was fire in the hearth and he was a presence that never faded at the end of the day.

He left an impact on all those around him.

Brother clasped Al's hand. Tightly. He buried his head on Al's shoulder, above his heart, and Al heard Brother finally shudder and let himself choke out the tears he had been holding back for so long.

"Al, you dummy. Welcome back," Ed breathed, clutching on tighter.

"It's so warm…" Al whispered. Whether it was shock or euphoria or being able to feel again that left him speechless, he didn't mind.

Brother was quiet. He held onto him tightly, so tightly.

He suspected there was a sacrifice that Brother had paid. He knew it. But he had never seen Ed look so relieved. Ed was shivering. He had not seen Ed cry in years. And so, just for this moment, Al would leave matters be.

They were alive.

XxxxX

Ed was cold.

-Cold of body or cold of soul?-

I don't…

-This is the path you have chosen. There is no going back now, you have lost your mother. And your brother cannot know, what would he do if he did?-

-There is nobody to confess too. You must hope that you are enough, little man.-

Ed was rarely scared, but hearing that voice made him tense up. The way it spoke, it was in a way that made him listen. It knew his deepest fears, the facts he had locked up in a closest (that nobody would find, that he wouldn't find). He couldn't let them out-

Who are you? Ed's mind thought weakly.

-We are the nightmare.-

~Turinene, present time~

Silence filled the plaza for a second.

Just for a second.

And then-

His voice. That lighthouse guiding him home through stormy seas.

Torch reignited.

"Human lives were never yours to fucking use!" Edward screamed, his hands colliding with the cobblestone. The earth shook. The very foundations started shaking.

And despite not having an artist's eye, Ed crafted his from memory. He could see. He had an eye, didn't he? All along. He had let his Shadow, his oblivion rob him of his sight. His mind was a vibrant world he had constructed, creativity and flair enriching every corner, leaking out into the world with his genius, pioneering brain. The one that was meant to save so many people. The one that had allowed him to save Al.

To say he was blind couldn't be more fucking wrong.

With a smirk, he kicked backwards with surprising accuracy. He dropped, free from his hold as gargantuan stone creatures erupted and rose from the ground. They were carved from stone and metal and even if those pieces were insignificant and weak on their own, accumulated they formed a product far greater than the sum of their individual components.

Above, the Sun felt warm.

The stone golems he had summoned and controlled went to do his bidding. In this world, he was the creator, in control of what he touched. Connected to the world despite his dissociation. Sweat beaded down his face. Concentration. Breathe. Focus.

But he could feel adrenaline singing through his veins. The way it was when he fought people. The way that it should be.

Of course he was damn scared, but moving forward was his only option. The only option he would allow to be his future.

The golems bellowed out across the plaza. For their size they should have lumbered. But they were swift and precise. They stormed across the space. Ed could hear their vibrations beneath his feet. Gunfire sounded. Confused. Anticipatory.

Taking the signal, Ed could feel the familiar crackle of alchemy resonate in the air and there was inhumane screaming and swearing…

The golems were a distraction. He needed Al and the bastard freed. They were going to help him in what he needed to do.

"Don't you dare get away," Ed heard NoName hiss from behind him. Apparently the unperturbed man could be surprised.

Ed heard the flick of a trigger.

He clapped his hands and touched them to the earth, manoeuvring his body.

"This is for my eyes," he hissed and the dust cloud he had transmuted billowed into NoName's fucking eyes. He didn't doubt his aim had been true by the sound of pain and gnashing of teeth. The gun dropped to the ground. Ed heard where it landed. As he scrabbled towards the weapon, a beautifully familiar voice rang out by his side. Al had picked up the weapon and handed it to Edward.

"Do what you must, you unoriginal, tacky brother," Al said. And Ed had never been the patient type when it came to fights. And he was tacky as hell.

Ed nodded his head in reply, the hum of alchemy bending to his will. His fingertips barely had to touch before a wave of energy rushed through him. The energy that was his and his alone to wield. His constitution that manifested as alchemy.

He formed his dragon-twined spear, feeling along its familiar grip. Unfamiliar to familiar. He tightened his grasp on the spear and with his back against his brother's, he felt so damn nostalgic.

"Do it, you dummies!"

Winry.

"Don't you dare or die, dammit!"

Win.

Resembool flashed in his minds. Greens and browns and blues. Blue blue skies like her blue blue eyes. Her voice carried colour too. Warmth and passion, like the orangey hues at sunset.

The crash and clamour reminded Ed of the havoc his golems were reaping. His attention was partly diverted towards them. He knew they were freeing his allies, districting and swaying off his enemies. They would not hold forever. But Winry was free; they were doing their job.

Now to turn to the matter at hand.

The Elric brothers stood in that space, one thought- one entity- burnt into their brains.

And there was one thing they had to do.

To suggest they were at a disadvantage against NoName was an understatement; this conniving man took every weapon and tool at his disposal and used it, whether physical or mental. Everything about him screamed wrong to Ed and Al.

NoName would be disadvantaged too if the grit had been caught in his eyes. His eyesight would be fuzzy at best.

It was only fair that the Elrics had a bit of good luck on their side for once.

Ed smirked; he wouldn't bank on it. God liked to throw shit on him, but he was used to that.

But Einar Kimblee had something he could not hope to match the Elrics for.

A brother that knew Ed better than he knew himself.

Ed reached and felt for Al's hand, squeezing it tightly. Al understood. They were not only brothers but sparring partners.

Ed felt the discharge of alchemy before he heard it. From the way Al instantaneously tensed up too, Ed was sure his brother had felt it. An alchemy that felt oddly familiar to Ed and to Al as well…

The alchemy did not feel right, as if it did not truly connect with its user. NoName had not been born an alchemist, obtaining his power through voltage and manipulation. Something more substantial than wrong, but taboo, forbidden.

Ed and Al would not lose sight of that presence.

Al clapped his hands and the ground rumbled beneath Ed. He steadied himself with his hands as a stone pillar sent him upwards on his ascent. He counted slowly and sensed for the slightest change in the alchemic forces Al was outputting.

Wait, wait.

There!

Ed slapped his hands and drew his metal blade, woven from automail atoms and used it to slice at the monster that had chained him to the dirt, and leapt off the platform.

Wind rushed past his face and in that moment when he was most vulnerable, he didn't hesitate.

The blade's aim was true and sliced into NoName's right shoulder, causing the man to grunt and try to grapple at Edward-

Al was there, growling a feral cry and hitting NoName that made him thud to the floor. Had Al found a ganglion to temporarily paralyze NoName?

Possibly. Or was it something else?

Ed didn't feel like he was at a disadvantage. He sensed it as a certainty. That he could not use. A sixth sense that had started when he had first transmuted-

Alchemy.

Fucking hell.

Realisation slammed him in the chest. The alchemy, this déjà vu, this strange niggling feeling in the back of his mind, this nostalgia. The alchemy that NoName was harnessing had been extracted from Ed's life force, but that meant the alchemy was his. He was its composer and this was his melody. As it belonged to Al. And as it belonged to the bastard apparently.

His.

After being deprived of even the most basic of necessities for so long, of fearing alchemy, to hear this electrical music stirred something deep in Ed.

He couldn't explain it. An intuitive connection.

That alchemy was his. It belonged with him; it belonged in him.

His hard work and dedication. Alchemy had not been a gift. He had fought tooth and nail for the power he held in his fingertips, bled on the dirt, had sleepless nights and had sacrificed a normal childhood for.

The melody tingled again, his heart aching to be reunited with his music- a part of his life force.

He would not lose.

The golems were tacky.

Surely Fullmetal knew that.

He thought they were stylish.

But deep down he knew they were tacky.

And that was why he was using them goddamn well.

One of the stone creatures snuck up from behind and bashed Envy in the head, the monster screaming as they clutched their skull (after that rocky punch Roy would not have been surprised if the homunculus would be nursing a chronic headache for quite time). Hell, with that much damage the creature impacted, Envy may have fractured their skull.

Roy felt a strange shiver run down his spine but ignored it. He didn't have time for that.

The Colonel glanced around and stared in absolute fucking amazement (but part of his brain was not respect. Nothing but admiration.)

Ed and Al were fighting against their captor. Their attacks and defensive moves were perfectly synchronised as if they had a psychic communication link. Alchemy, spar, kick, jab, weird grotesque alchemical abominations, repeat.

Looking and listening together.

NoName had seemingly been drained of his strength. He was not fighting back fully. But when the doctor finally used his alchemy, Roy felt the tingling sensation again.

A yearning to beat Kimblee to a pulp? Probably.

But there was something more-

No time.

Red light shimmered around Envy however. Roy heard this jarring crack as something that was broken was immediately put back into place.

The Philosopher's Stone.

No time to think about that now!

"Leave this bastard to us," Hughes rubbed the blood pooling on his mouth with an ultramarine sleeve. Green eyes did not divert from the monster. Havoc was there. And the Armstrongs. Hawkeye too.

They nodded at him. Hawkeye stashed pairs of gloves into his pockets. Always the prepared one. She gave him the exact look of: if you even consider dying, I will chain you to your desk until you retire and fill out a forest's worth of paperwork, firearm threat included.

He had learnt the hard way to take her threats seriously. He was not going to slack off, that was for sure.

If he had learnt anything from those boys, it was to find people who would watch his back and be vulnerable enough to trust.

And he trusted them with his back.

And they had help.

There was a hiss as the fountain's spurting came to a halt. A grinding sound, quiet. But then louder and more grating. The centre of the fountain rotated and a hidden plateau revealed itself, an additional layer to the fountain. And like a cake being cut, a well-hidden groove split apart, revealing Michael standing at the centre holding a rifle, grinning happily to himself. He was sat on a motorbike that was connected to firearms. A press of a button and… shoot.

Quite literally.

And like a treasure trove, the entire hidden layer was littered with firearms, from rifles to sniper shots to a machine gun.

Squirrels stored nuts away for winter. It appeared the Armstrong family had a tendency to hibernate with firearms.

"Of course we would not be left unprepared," Viola Cadence answered simply over the haze and her answer was enough. Roy shook his head, wondering why he had not predicted these tactics; she was related to the Major General after all.

"Impressive," Roy said honestly as Michael made a battle cry to the heavens, revving the engine that should not theoretically work, but obviously did.

The staff from the hospital eagerly went for the firearms, going for select items and holding onto them comfortably. Of bloody course.

The homunculus would be distracted, that was for sure. His team were not allowed to die. And he had to trust that they would follow his orders.

Because there was a very amused individual who was not taking part in the fighting, as if it was too far above him and he was fascinated by the outcome of events. The Crimson Alchemist.

"Crimson!"

Solf J. Kimblee looked down on his challenger like he was an arena champion. He had been in his own twisted mind. Of Ishval.

And Roy had threatened to usurp his throne.

Kimblee licked his lips, almost eagerly. His brother had not been a worthy opponent and he would not bother with interfering with the homunculi. They had a mutual alliance.

"He has a particular fascination in you, Flame," Kimblee gestured to his brother, the reference as detached as possible, "he has always been trying to one up me. He doesn't understand the beauty of battle, how strategic it is; but it is not a child's game.

"I want to beat you and he wants to beat me. It makes sense for him to hold a grudge, since he is too below me to do so," the Crimson Alchemist said earnestly from his position of power. The man secured his white hat on his head before nodding.

"Yes, this is a battle I have been looking forward to," he mused, "it seems everyone else is fighting. I think it is time," and Crimson rolled his sleeves up, brushed his hair out of his eyes and clapped his hands together as he had in the desert wind.

Kimblee threw his tattooed hands in front of his face and the air crackled. Once, twice. And an explosion like a nebula collapsing in on itself put the spotlight on this other State Alchemist. Kimblee could manipulate alchemy as Mustang could, dogs chained to the State and in that sense they were equals.

Both men had completed atrocities. One relished in watching humanity's plight for survival while the other searched for retribution which could result in his own execution. (Not yet, not yet).

Roy connected with that energy rushing beneath his feet and created. He would use Turinene to his advantage.

He transmuted and then snapped. Both fire and earth. Just because he was named for harnessing one element did not mean he had lack of ability

Just maybe lacking finesse…

He watched as the stone particles swirled in front of him, fragments of cobblestone and dirt, form into spheres. Roy made sure they were porous, allowing for sufficient oxygen to imbed within their foundations. Transmutation.

Snapping. Flames danced through the structures, weaving in and out of the holes, and Roy manipulated the oxygen in the surrounding air to ensure the fire remained contained. Fireballs. With a transmutation nudge, the hissing miniature comets went sailing towards their target. Kimblee's eyes widened- impressed for once with Mustang's alchemy, but sketched a circle that caused a defensive stone barrier to erect in place just in time. One of the fireballs glanced over and skimmed over Kimblee's head, knocking his hat off.

The Colonel had made direct contact with Crimson. If he could do that, then he was at more of an advantage than he thought initially.

He had never done anything like this before, but after this trip to Turinene, nothing was impossible.

Roy snapped vigorously, containing his sparks around Kimblee's stone barrier. One to Kimblee's right, one to his left and one behind. Three consecutive fire walls rose, containing the alchemist within an ember and stone cage. It sapped concentration out of Roy, his jaw locking and concentration solely focused. He would have been an easy target and those thoughts of him getting stabbed in the back would have sparked fear within his chest. But he trusted. He had the closest thing to a faith that he could with his team. They would watch his back.

"End it here, Crimson!"

"Never," the man chuckled and clapped his hands, shattering the ground beneath him. He vanished in a flurry of dust and smoke.

Roy maintained the walls but stepped cautiously closer. He was not going to let his guard down. Tentatively, he made a narrow gap through the walls of his flames, but the Crimson Alchemist was nowhere to be found. Roy squinted as some of the sparks from the fires crackled close to his face but he did not back away.

Kimblee could not have just… vanished.

However, as he peered closely at the ground, wondering if Kimblee was elaborate enough to disguise himself under a transmuted and camouflaged fireproof jacket, Roy saw a ring of transmutation marks. The closer he peered, the more hastily he realised they were. This was a sudden and rushed effort.

Kimblee was logical, his battle tactics following a sequential order, rarely side-tracking to what he had pictured in his mind's eye.

But this rush in strategic planning unnerved Roy, as he did not know how well Kimblee could react to unpredictability.

And then he realised.

The flaw in his strategy.

The fire walls made him look in front.

But not from behind-

Roy pivoted on the spot just as Kimblee rose up with a snarl from the dirt, his hair free and dirt covering his face. The man had buried himself underground and tunnelled his way out. There was an almost feral look in his eyes that was animalistic but equally human- the look of loathing.

Roy forced his firewalls to combine into one, a glowing, ethereal snake, and it slithered at top speed towards Kimblee. The Crimson Alchemist moved to his pocket as though he was grabbing a piece of chalk-

When he pulled out a gun and pointed it at Roy-

Bang.

A bullet dove straight through both of Kimblee's wrists and the man dropped to the floor, a silent scream tracing his lips.

The Lieutenant.

"Lieutenant!" the Colonel shouted, eternally grateful for her incredible adaptability to match his stupidity.

"Keep your head in the game, Sir," she replied, "the strange creature has been contained. They seem unwillingly complacent when they see attacked by the Crimson Alchemist. I think they would be willing to eliminate you, but they are under higher command restricting them. The mentioned something about 'sacrifices', if that means anything to you…"

"You don't have the right to speak, Crimson," Roy snapped his fingers at Kimblee on the floor, blood rolling down his face. It appears your supposed ally is not happy with your actions."

"Is that so?" Kimblee replied with sudden composure despite being covered with blood on his white white suit. "It seems our deal has been…compromised.

"I do not want to die this day, so I think I will make my exit."

That was last thing that Roy expected to hear from him. Kimblee did not retreat; he won or won.

That was what it meant to be the champion of an arena carved with bone and blood.

"I will not forget today, Roy Mustang. We will meet again, I'm sure. Who knows, perhaps humanity can gain a victory today," the man mused as he picked up his hat like nothing had happened. He said that while glancing at the Elric brothers. They sat on the ground, back to back to each other, panting heavily, while NoName looked like an unconscious heap several feet away from them.

Hawkeye lifted her gun but Roy raised a hand to stop her. It was not worth the fight or restraint trying to stop Kimblee, who could detonate this whole town if he wished. But the man had not unleashed his full potential. Why?

But Kimblee left without a fight. Roy wandered over to where the homunculus was restrained. They stuck their tongue out at Roy as he approached. Hughes was panting and bleeding from a scrape on his forehead and he had not seen Havoc looking like he craved a cigarette as much as he did then. Even Alex was panting from the exertion. The homunculus had injured but not killed.

(Thank goodness.)

"Why have you stopped fighting? And why do you want me alive?" Roy demanded when he saw the homunculus stropping on the floor, wrists bound behind their back and feet restrained.

"None of ya damn business," Envy scoffed.

"The Crimson Alchemist has decided to stop backing you, it seems," Roy continued smoothly, but the homunculus did not seem to care about this reveal.

"As long as one of the brothers is of use to me, I don't care. Both Kimblee brothers thought I was helping them! As if we would back you vile humans. It never ceases to amaze me how stupid you all are, repeating the same mistakes.

"I could eat and kill every single one of ya in ten seconds if I wanted," Envy shrugged, sitting up in their restraints, "but I was told not to cause trouble."

"So you do follow orders, who?"

"Not telling ya."

"And why not plan to escape? We are at your destructive liberty, it seems," Roy stepped back just in time as Envy attempted to spit on his boots, narrowly missing.

"Because I was waiting for this," Envy sneered.

The whole ground started to light up blue and the foundations started to shake.

Envy's hands and legs shapeshifted to become daggers and they sliced through the rope like it was ribbon.

"Time to die, Flame Alchemist. But not you, just all these worthless humans you love!" Envy cackled.

The blue faded into red.

The size of the transmutation made Ed tremble. He could not help it, as though his body had no choice but to marvel at the spectacle (and devastation) alchemy could reap.

He had landed the punch that had knocked NoName out. It should have kept him out cold for a few hours at least. However, the man must have manipulated the voltage, possibly setting up a preliminary transmutation circle somewhere, to accelerate his healing. He was a doctor and it made sense for him to have an extensive knowledge on anatomy.

Not his voltage.

His and Al's.

But Ed was exhausted. If a fight had taken a toll on him before exchanging his connection to this world for Al's safe return through the Gate, he would have been fatigued. But after enduring the tunnels and losing part of his life force to provide the bastard with the ability to perform transmutations through his fucking radio, he was exhausted.

If he so much as closed his eyes, he feared he would not wake up again no matter how much people tried.

He yearned to crawl into bed and listen to his mother's lullabies and sleep for a year.

But he couldn't.

Especially when Einar Kimblee had set up this massive transmutation.

The power stemmed from the earth. Even though the tunnels had collapsed…their foundations remained, carving a circle. A giant circle, ensnaring this town, with living people, the unknowing prey, like the rabbits he had trapped and captured on Yock Island.

A force of this power would-

"TIME TO DIE, PATHETIC CREATURES!" Envy howled with delight, "now who should be the sacrifice for our crest of blood? The rest of you will follow quickly after."

Crest of blood? Sacrifice?

There was something wider at work here.

He didn't understand. Kimblee brothers recruited by the homunculi. Using alchemy to destroy a town. Just like Liore. They had to be connected, the two were close to each other-

Those tunnels. Built for this very purpose, he suspected. Everything had come together, carefully planned by an underground force for this very day.

But for how long?

-Questions.-

That I need answers for!

-Soon. At some point.-

How do you always seem to know, goddammit?

-Being a manifestation of a genius' consciousness helps.-

-And are we not manifestations of the Truth too?-

Of course that bastard has something to do with you, Ed snorted, surprised he had not realised that until now. His Shadow was his and obviously too damn smart for its own good.

Time to focus on beating another bastard first. One at a time.

-Good luck, little alchemist.-

Yeah, piss off. And don't call me little!

Kimblee had taken something. And the Elrics were going to get it back.

Ed had hypothesised. He had barely had the time to plan. But when had he had the luxury of time? His brain was on the move, trains, running, loose ends, dead ends, frustration, back to square one. He had to manipulate the wealth of knowledge he had pooled in his mind. Libraries. Mosaics of books he had studied.

None of them would tell his reckless ass what he was about to.

He held Al's hand tightly.

Trust me, Al.

We'll make our suffering worth it.

For you. For me.

Before the transmutation could ignite to its full potential, Ed and Al took a deep breath and jumped into the energy stream.

"FULLMETAL! ALPHONSE!" Ed heard the Colonel scream.

"ED!" Winry.

But the sounds were lost to him as he leapt with his brother into the heart of the transmutation. Energy surrounded him, the conduit so strong it felt like a river being barrelled into his chest. He could barely breathe at the strength of the transmutation.

So this is the life force him and Al had to offer.

If they gave everything they had.

Was it selfish to want that back?

To reclaim what they had lost, when the Elric brothers had sworn to each other never to look back. Only forwards.

They could learn from the past.

They couldn't bring back their mother.

And when he had lost his limbs and Al his body, Ed could not have waltzed up to the Gate of Truth to retrieve them without paying the price.

But Kimblee had done just that.

He had taken away the power the Elric brothers had accumulated after a lifetime's worth of turmoil, adventures and silent rain.

It was not equivalent.

Absolutely fucking not.

Ed clapped his hands together and reached them out sideways, grasping the alchemy stream with his hands. Instead of it repelling away from his touch, like a magnet, the stream latched itself into his grip. It was warm. And this must have been his. His soul was unique and the energy was being attracted to its source.

He dragged himself inch by inch, metre by metre, through the chaos. He could sense time running short.

He heard shouts.

He heard screams.

Nothing else mattered.

Closer and closer to NoName they came.

Ed's body, fucking beyond broken inside, struggled with each step. The energy stream he held onto supported him, although he was still caught up in a transmutation. He had to ensure he and Al did not become soul components of the activated array.

He coughed up blood, swallowed the rest and took another step.

I've already done the hard part, Ed smirked to himself.

Another step.

"Let's see the light again," Ed whispered as he felt the energy stream in his palms quiver and he felt himself being pulled towards the source.

This was when he stopped struggling. He surrendered to the force, coming closer and closer to Kimblee until-

Contact.

Voltage.

Directly through his body.

He had touched the conduit. And Al had too.

They were holding onto NoName's arm, at the centre of the circle, the centre of their world, the pieces falling apart around them.

All of that raw energy was being transported into them.

But why?

Kimblee was controlling the transmutation.

-The answer is simple, little alchemist.-

-You are more worthy of the power than he.-

-It's returning home.-

Truth. And his Shadow. Two sides of the same coin. His.

This life force, propelling into his mind, no rest, no breathing. More energy. More and more.

No.

NO!

That's not the answer.

-…-

Fucking no!

Here's an answer for you. For every action there is a consequence. I'm stupid and a dumbass but I have paid for my mistakes, right? I'm never complacent. I'm looking for something more, something that makes life worth living. And to me that is those around me. The people that make the shit and the pain and the endless fucking torment worth it. The fire to my fight.

That is the choice I have made, the one I'm making now and the one I will always make. Them.

The energy intensified.

…

So this is what it was to be alive.

Skies and cosmos and stars could have exploded. They did. They danced before his eyes, spotting his vision-

Wait.

His vision?

He didn't notice.

The transmutation was no longer crackling as ferociously. Or was it? His ears were ringing? He felt dead.

But he wasn't.

And he had stars in his eyes.

He had sealed his eyes shut.

How could he-

No.

There was no point getting excited.

A hypothesis was a theory waiting to be disproven. He was a scientist.

Stars.

He couldn't waste his time on hope. That would get him nowhere.

After seeing nothing but darkness, light had been his salvation.

Perhaps, just this once, it was ok to be a child.

And believe.

…

He blinked, opening his eyes to be caressed by a big, bright and beautiful world.

Much action, very intense, yes! This chapter is mostly Ed completing his arc *sobs*. I'll post an additional chapter, kind of like an epilogue, closing off the loopholes and providing context to the finale, extra POV's, that kind of thing.

Wow, this has been one heck of a journey... but here we are :)

Thank you for reading! I hope you have a lovely day.