You know what I said about Thanksgiving? I lied.
ON WITH THE STORY!
Edward woke up with a start. The last thing he could recall was the boat ride over to prison. Had he been caught again? Did his attempt fail?
He cracked open his eyes, hissing slightly as they were seared by the light. He squeezed them shut again, then opened them slightly.
Pride was still silent, presumably still out. That just left him. Hopefully he wouldn't need the Homunculus to escape- wherever this was.
As his eyes slowly adjusted to the light, he registered plain, white walls. Not too much to take in, just a door on the opposite end of the room, and a desk he was currently seated at. Everything within his fairly limited transmutation range seemed to be Alchemy-dead, and his arms were bound to his chair with good ol' ropes.
Interrogation room.
The door opened and a man walked in. At least, he assumed it was a man, as the all-concealing hood made it a bit hard to tell. The interrogator took a seat across from him, and pulled out a few files. He/she shuffled them around for a bit, flipping through them. Craning his neck, Ed caught a glimpse of himself, looking quite badass, in combat in the middle of a street.
"So."
The word broke the silence, and also gave Ed a bit of a start. He'd expected to be ignored a little longer, for them to draw out the tension. He quickly thought of a counter to give him his balance back.
"So you are a man. I was a little confused."
Admittedly, it wasn't a very good comeback, but he got a twitch out of his opponent, so he counted it as a point to him. His captor ignored the outburst and continued.
"You, sir, have been responsible for the injury of over a dozen Aurors, the Obliviation of countless muggles, and so much collateral it makes my head spin."
Ed considered that rather harsh appraisement of his accomplishments over the last month and a half. He couldn't really argue with it.
"I do have that tendency, yes…"
"We've noticed. Now, I'm betting you're wondering why you're not in Azkaban."
The alchemist paused to consider that one for a second. Why wasn't he in Azkaban?
"After the Dementors of Azkaban rushed your entourage, your guards were overwhelmed. While they managed to save themselves, they were unable to protect you. You attempted to escape, only for a Dementor to perform the Kiss and take your soul. Your soulless husk is now residing in a secure ward at St. Mungo's and in a few days will meet with an unfortunate accident involving a vanishing charm."
Ah. That didn't sound good. He'd been disappeared. These kind of shadow games were always Mustang's strong point. Maria Ross being a prime example. Ed had always preferred a pummel first, ask questions if/when they regain consciousness kind of approach.
But seeing where that had landed him, maybe the Bastard had a point after all…
No. Bad. Mustang is never to be told he's right, even if he is. A mental admission is one step down a very slippery slope.
Now. Where was he? Oh, right. Disappeared. Death faked, no longer exists. Which meant either they really needed him out of prison for good, or the things about to happen to him were the kind that needed to not be investigated.
Either option didn't sound so good to him.
The man across from him was still waiting patiently for a response, obviously prepared for the silence that would follow an announcement of one's official death.
Snapping back into focus, Ed peered at the hood, trying to get a glimpse through the all-consuming darkness underneath.
"So, I'm dead. So what?"
A tilt of the head was the only indication of incredulity he received for his blasé response.
"So what? You're not concerned about that? That everyone who knew you thinks you've kicked it?"
Ed shrugged.
"It's not like they didn't already think that. This just means that the police I've beaten up won't be coming back for more. All this means is my eventual death won't be coming from you people."
"And you arrived at that decision how?"
"Oh, come on. Nobody goes through this much trouble to kill somebody."
"Point. Now, we've got somebody coming to ask you about your… talents, and then you're free to go."
The alchemist quirked an eyebrow.
"You mean you made me a body double, abducted me from under the noses of the government, and faked my death just to ask me questions?"
"Well, yes. That is our job, you know. Now, it seems Fermier is here, so I'll be leaving. Do try not to antagonize him."
The robed wizard rose and walked out of the room, only to be replaced by another figure.
"Really? A lab coat? Somebody's going for the mad scientist look."
He was rewarded with a slightly annoyed frown.
"I'll have you know that I like my lab coat. And it's not like you can talk. Your criminal description on all the Auror reports specifically included 'tacky red coat'."
"MY COAT IS FINE!"
"I'm sure. Now, seeing as the translation charms seem to be working, why don't we begin. Where did you get your mechanical limbs? And how do they ignore the magical oversaturation effect?"
Ed blinked.
"The who what now?"
"Magical saturation. The reason that electronics don't work with magic. The ambient power floods the batteries and they fry the circuits. I thought every Muggleborn and their dog learned that one at some point or another."
The condescending tone of voice was starting to get to him.
"A friend of mine built them. They don't explode or whatever because they don't use batteries. They work off of my nerves."
Fermier's eyebrows rose.
"Your nerves? But that would mean… Oh, your friend is certifiably insane. A genius, but insane!" Fermier leaned over the desk and stared straight at him.
"But don't think I'm letting that one go. Who is your friend? The muggles don't have anything like this, and I'm certain it's not Wizarding design. Enchanted peg legs," he snorted "are cutting edge by wizard standards. A muggle built those limbs, and I want to know who."
"Why do you care so much?"
He was favored with another look.
"Given your skills with Alchemy, it's quite obvious you're not stupid. I'm rethinking my Muggleborn hypothesis, as well. Because if you were, you'd be in any of the numerous files we have on every Muggleborn in Europe. None of the leads we took up in Asia or the Americas were useful. Not to mention the fact that somebody of your caliber would have had an apprenticeship somewhere, but none of our sources have ever heard of anybody like you. So, while you're here and I can interrogate you freely, where do you come from?"
Ed scowled.
"I see. And your rather unique healing capabilities?"
He began to wonder in a small, detached portion of his mind if he could refract his glare through the man's glasses and burn his face off if he tried hard enough.
"The umbra kinesis?"
At the same stony silence, Fermier sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing in exasperation.
"Well, you know how to shut up. That's something, at least." He reached into an inside pocket on his coat, fishing out a syringe. "Of course, that means I've got free reign to study you…"
Edward broke off his attempts at stimulating spontaneous combustion. The expression on the scientist's face was unnervingly similar to the one Tucker had right before he transmuted Nina, or the way Kimblee looked when he was about to make something detonate. That was the look of a more than slightly unhinged fanatic. His thoughts of maybe speaking up were cut short by a painful pricking in his shoulder, which lasted for only a few seconds before fading.
"Well, now. Aren't you a curious one. This isn't blood."
The man was gazing at a syringe full of viscous red liquid, only not blood red, but a brilliant, crimson hue that seemed to light itself up from the inside-
Fermier's eyes widened in surprise (recognition?) before he turned and walked briskly out of the cell. The door slammed shut to the sound of shouted orders and Edward was left alone to his thoughts.
Lucius Malfoy reclined in his study, sipping Firewhiskey and thinking hard. It had been over two weeks since the assault on his home, and though the manor was repaired, his peace of mind was shaken. Somebody, somewhere was looking for the Dark Lord. They were fanatical enough, with resources large enough to send monsters like that thing out searching. Dark powers were stirring, and he knew, no matter how many bribes bought his innocence and turned blind eyes, he was quite literally a marked man.
He needed something, some act, some gesture of loyalty to the old regime. Subtle enough to leave room to escape blame, but high profile enough to be a good show. In essence, the perfect Slytherin plot. As his eyes drifted restlessly around the room, they came to rest on a worn, battered book resting innocently on the bookshelves.
Yes, that would do nicely.
Lucius Malfoy reclined in his study, sipping Firewhiskey and plotting as only a Malfoy could plot.
"So what'd I miss?"
'Nothing really. They've faked my death, and want to know where we come from, what the Automail is, that kind of stuff. Also, some scientist took a blood sample and I think they recognized the Stone."
"So we should be getting out of here then."
'Yeah, I'd have tried already if I wasn't sure there were guards watching us right now."
"Alright. I'll take over then. By the way, you need to get captured less often. It's really kind of pathetic."
Ed's attempt to make an angry retort was cut off as Pride seized control of his body.
"Flamel! I've got something you might be interested in seeing!"
The ancient alchemist raised an eyebrow at the frantic tone in the usually impassive scientist's voice.
"Really, now. I hope it won't cut into the time I get to have to speak to our guest."
As the grey-haired wizard reached Flamel, he held up a syringe full of what at first glance appeared to be blood in the dim lighting.
"Funny you should mention. This is a blood sample I just took. Tell me what you think."
Flamel held the tube up, squinting at the contents, which were looking disturbingly familiar…
"So that's where my Philosopher's Stone went."
Fermier nodded grimly.
"That's what I thought. It would explain the healing, too."
He stepped over to a mirror which was currently displaying the view from inside the interrogation room. The captive was reclining in his chair, seemingly lost in thought. A wave of a wand brought up the running diagnostics on the health of the room's occupant.
"Heartbeat, zero. He looks like he's breathing, but he's not actually using the oxygen. Our mystery man is, for all intents and purposes, dead."
"Except he obviously isn't."
"Well, yes, that is the problem. He still possesses his soul and magic, and he's obviously not decaying- quite the opposite in fact, he isn't even losing skin cells. He isn't any sort of Inferi, magical construct, or conjured being. What we have here is a perfect human."
Flamel turned to his colleague and frowned questioningly at the wording. Fermier caught his look and shrugged.
"Honestly, I'm not sure what else to call it. He isn't aging, isn't decaying, he isn't changing. I'd even go so far as to conjecture he'll live forever, barring being killed, which we've seen proven is easier said than done."
"Do you think this is a result of incorporating the Stone?"
"Maybe. The non-decay seems to be similar to the effects of the Elixir of Life, however I'd hesitate to say it for certain. One thing's for certain, though. He's the most interesting thing I've had to study since we gave up on the Veil."
As if on cue, the observation mirror's image went blurry, flashed numerous alarming colors, and went dark.
"Do you want to head down there, or let security handle it?"
"Ah, I'm old. Let's take our time, and give those youngsters a bit of a head start."
The two geniuses turned and began to walk—slowly—to the interrogation room.
Pride barreled down the corridor, shadows trailing just behind him. Another group of robed flunkies stepped out of a door, only to have their arms lacerated and wands sliced. They, like the others, disappeared as he rushed past, presumably Portkeyed to a medical bay. He rounded a corner to come face to face with an unfortunately familiar face.
Fermier.
"I must commend you on your escape. This is one of the most heavily warded areas in Britain, and that room particularly so. Although, I suppose, given your abilities, all that meant was another meal."
In lieu of a response, Pride's shadows rushed forwards ahead of him, aiming to add to his list of casualties, and was caught by surprise when Fermier vanished, only to reappear a few feet to the left. The spiraling shadows tore into the ground where he had stood just a few seconds ago, ripping up the stone floor.
"Flash step. Also known as line-of-sight teleportation. Developed by the combat mages of Japan in their Feudal age. Quite useful, don't you agree?"
Pride didn't respond, and he instead rushed past Fermier, more blades covering his retreat. The infuriating wizard appeared in front of him again, raised his arm, and cast.
"Lumos Gladius!"
A beam of light appeared from the end of his wand, lengthening and widening until Fermier was hefting a rather impressive luminescent broadsword. He lifted the sword and Pride's shadows shrank back.
"Do you like it? I developed it myself after reviewing the memory of you fight with Auror Moody. Completely harmless physically, of course, but quite effective for countering your umbra kinesis."
He deftly swung the blade, cleanly slicing a venturesome shadow in two. Pride bit back a yelp as the feedback gave him a jolt of pain. He didn't even know it was possible to do that, let alone that it would hurt him!
"Let me take him. He's got you at a disadvantage with that sword and there's plenty of material around here that I can actually transmute."
Pride glared at Fermier warily, waiting for his next move.
'No. I can take him.'
"Are you insane? He's got that fucking sword and you can't touch him!"
The Homunculus didn't respond, as he was too busy trying to be caught in the barrage of spells Fermier was shooting from his wand, which apparently could keep the sword going and cast at the same time. He threw himself into a door off the main hallway just as a fireball roared past, setting the edge of his coat on fire.
He picked himself up out of the debris of the door just in time to roll out of the way of a nasty off-white spell, which crackled and hissed on contact with the wood. Fermier stepped through the remains of the doorway, pausing only to tap on the wall next to the opening, lighting up the entire room and destroying the last of Pride's blades just before they reached him. Fermier dispelled his now-useless sword and pointed his wand at Pride.
"Nowhere to run, no way to fight. End of the line."
Pride was furious. Not only had he failed, but this human—this worm—had the sheer audacity to mock him! HIM! He was a Homunculus! The pinnacle of evolution, the superior being! Brought low by some loon in a lab coat!
It was the slightly manic gleam that appeared in his opponent's eyes that warned him, right before Pride gave an animalistic snarl and lunged, metal fist cocked back and aimed to smash into Fermier's face-
"Stupefy."
Pride managed to look both angry and puzzled at the same time as he collapsed forwards like a puppet with its strings cut, faceplanting right at the Unspeakable's feet.
"Well, that's that."
He turned and strode out into the ruined hallway, searching for somebody to help him move the prisoner back into his containment cell. They'd need to change the ward structure, conjure a thicker door, the works. As the buzz from the one-sided battle wound down, he felt a niggling doubt in the back of his head. Now what could he be forgetting?
An arm wrapped around his throat as something sharp and metal was held to his back.
"Oh, that's right. Multiple personalities. Needed to stun you twice."
"You sound awfully casual for somebody who's about to get his spinal cord severed."
Fermier couldn't help it. He chuckled.
"You know, we've been keeping tabs on you ever since your visit to Hogsmeade. And while you've committed everything from petty shoplifting to assault and battery on law enforcement, you've always had one thing in common."
"Oh?"
"You never kill. Not once, even in a pitched fight against an entire Auror squad. That's a strong set of morals you've got there, and I'm certain you won't be able to kill me in cold blood."
The arm around his neck loosened somewhat, but the blade remained.
"Fine. I won't kill you. Just tell me what I want to know and I'll be on my way."
"That's funny. I seem to recall those words being spoke to a certain Lucius Malfoy as well. Remind me how that particular scene ended again?"
"How-?"
"Monitoring cluster. Slapped it on you in Diagon Alley, right on that metal shoulder of yours."
The grip around his throat left completely as his captor reached for the spot. Fermier twisted, silently firing off a minor bludgeoning hex, creating space for the binding jinx that followed right behind.
"Oldest trick in the book. Right up there next to the good old 'look out behind you'."
The tables turned, his captive glared up from the floor.
"Now, seeing as you're so eager in the pursuit of knowledge, and I really don't feel like wasting time on improving your cozy little room, I've got an offer for you."
A single golden eyebrow was raised in question.
"…Continue."
He let his mouth widen in what he hoped was a welcoming grin and not his usual psychotic smile.
"Join the Unspeakables."
"What?"
"You heard me. Join us. Someone of your skills would be useful with our field ops. Or Espionage, given that little shadow trick with the eyes. It'd let me study you in a mostly non-invasive manner, and best of all, you get to satisfy that thirst for knowledge you seem to be harboring!"
The silence was only broken by the sounds of dust settling and the pounding of feet in the distance.
"Honestly, if you had cooperated with the questioning, we'd have asked you anyway. This is just me asking you before backup gets here and I have to waste another day designing a wardless cell."
"You'll let me look for what I want to know?"
"Well, the pursuit of knowledge was kind of our mission statement back in the day. We've branched out since then, but sure, we'll let you research whatever you want. Within reason, of course."
The footsteps grew louder as the remaining Unspeakables on the security detail drew closer.
Edward sighed, halfheartedly tested his bonds, and ran a few mental scenarios.
"I'm in."
And here we are—chapter 10 an entire week before I promised! Aren't I awesome? And yes. Ed is now an Unspeakable. Funnily enough, this seems to be the only story with an Unspeakable!Ed. Or with Ed as any part of the Magical Government. Of course, given his lack of tolerance for bullshit, that's understandable, but since the Unspeakables are so ill-defined by their very job description, it's a wonderful sandbox for me to build some castles in.
Acknowledgements go out to ENSIGN's The Innocence of Guilt for the Unspeakable inspiration. May it update someday.
And now, an explanation/apology that most of you should skip. I apologize for making an AN so long, but this is something that needs to be cleared up.
It has been brought to my attention that Edward Elric has been portrayed in this story as, well, weak. He has won a grand total of one (1) fights so far in this story (correct me if I'm wrong) and has lost too many times to count of the top of my head. And yes, this might seem a little OOC to those of you used to reading stories about the Fullmetal Alchemist being the best fighter ever against the physically weak wizards. But let's take a look at Brotherhood.
If we take a casual flip through the series, we see, time and time again, Edward getting his ass handed to him routinely in almost every major fight.
Ed v. Mustang. This isn't actually a part of the Manga timeline, but rather an addition between chapters 12 and 13. But if we take a look, Ed loses. Pretty badly, in fact. Mustang spends the entire fight chasing him around with explosions, and honestly could have ended him at any point if the fight was serious.
Ed v. Scar? Not only did Al get blown to pieces in what should have been a double-team, but Ed's arm got ripped apart and if it weren't for the timely interference of Colonel Useless-in-that-Scene and Hawkeye and some nameless soldier flunkies, the series would have reached a rather abrupt conclusion following the deaths of the Elric Brothers.
Ed v. Greed. It's kind of hard to tell how that would have turned out- Ed did bust his arm (again.) but then the soldiers did show up before the fight could end. And given that Greed was kind of relying solely on his ultimate shield—Ed was faster and at least just as strong—Ed might have won. Of course, only Ed was playing for keeps, so there's that.
Ed v. Kimblee- Do I even need to explain this one? Steel beam through the stomach? Had to beg two former enemies to dig him out? Spent days in a clinic? Ring any bells?
The only fights he's actually out-and-out won in canon were against either severely crippled enemies, like Pride or the Father, or enemies who he severely outclassed either in alchemy, physical skills, or both. All of his victories were against close-ranged fighters, or in the case of Cornello (and can we really call that a fight?) in close quarters, where Ed has the advantage due to his combat training, alchemy style, and metal limbs. None of his victories, again barring Cornello, were against alchemists.
For all his badassery, Ed's got a long way to go before he's as great as we all think he is.
All in all, it's a pretty pathetic showing. The series was more an in-depth look into things like morality, humanity, and the like than a story about a hero who wins every fight. Add that to the fact that in HP!verse he's basically facing a bunch of people with the range capabilities of Mustang, with a wide variety of attacks, and it's easy to see why he's been so easily beaten.
Not to mention that in every fight he's lost so far he's been outgunned, outnumbered, overpowered, surrounded, or, most commonly, just plain underinformed. That said, Ed's loss of these fights do develop him and Pride as characters, and move the plot forwards. They're not just me bashing on Fullmetal. I do enjoy these kinds of debates, and your input really makes me think sometimes. Thinking is fun.
I hope you take this into consideration, and if you have further comments or questions, drop a review! I love reviews!
End rant.
-Ambiguity