A/N: I have no explanation for why this is up when I haven't updated my other fics, other than the fact that I just really love working on it ;_; Per usual, please, please, please let me know if anything seems rushed, OOC, or vague because one minute I like this chapter and the next I'm kind of 'eh' about it. One thing I will point out is that I want you to remember that Al and Winry don't know the extent of the Homunculi's infiltration in their hosts, meaning that they don't know how many of their memories (if at all) they can access. This chapter is also the end of a very Riza-centric arc and the beginning of a Roy-centric one. Don't worry though, we'll still see more of her soon.

As always, thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows. They mean a lot!

I left a little tidbit at the bottom as a preview for the next chapter. In addition, expect to see lots of action next chapter, Izumi's team, the beginning of a new plot line that is exclusive from the manga/Brotherhood, and more interactions between characters who did not interact in canon.

"You monster."

Torn from the horrified daze he had directed toward 'Mustang,' Edward jerked his head around to see General Armstrong grab the hilt of her saber and take a threatening step toward the Homunculus. Before she could draw her weapon, however, two of the soldiers that had arrived from Central flanked her and grabbed her upper arms. The General responded by yanking at their grasps, which only seemed to make them hold her tighter. With a heated growl she narrowed her eyes toward 'Mustang,' drawing her lips back to reveal her teeth.

Unfazed by her outrage, the Homunculus lifted a brow and said, "It wasn't like you weren't thinking it yourself, General Armstrong. I simply responded to the matter more quickly than you."

She made an attempt to take a step toward him but was thwarted by the two soldiers that continued to hold her back. When Buccaneer and Miles moved to aid her, she twisted her head around and ordered, "Do not interfere." The two men hesitated, both of them eyeing their fellow soldiers with disdain. The latter two firmly held their ground, their expressions blank. When they both received another look of warning from their General, they both slowly moved away, keeping themselves close enough to her she required their assistance. Satisfied by their obedience, she turned back to 'Mustang' and accused, "By killing one of your own? How cowardly."

"'Cowardly,'" he echoed, the beginnings of a smirk on his lips. "I think you misinterpreted my actions entirely, General. You see," he said as he took a step forward and tipped the General's chip up with his index finger, "You and I aren't all that different." She jerked away and snapped her jaw shut dangerously close to the finger he left hovering there but he only smiled and drew it away. "We both understand the law of kill or be killed; survival of the fittest. A mantra you've pounded into the heads of all of the men who follow you." He looked past her shoulder toward the two soldiers who were constantly by her side for a few moments before returning his eyes to hers. "Isn't that right?"

"I don't kill senselessly," she spat.

Both of his brows raised in mock surprise. "And you think that I do? If so, I have to say that I'm disappointed."

She scoffed. "Why else would you kill that buffoon? It's just like you said; If I had I at least had reason to."

The smirk on 'Mustang's' face slipped and he straightened his body, eyeing her as critically as she was him. "General Raven was unfit for the role that would have otherwise been given to him here. So I did what had to be done and dispatched him before the mistake affected the upper brass."

"Are you telling me that you are going to be in control here," she answered with a bitter laugh. "Because if you think my men will listen to someone as spineless as you, then you're about to be in for a rude awakening."

The devious grin once again returned to his face and he replied, "I never said that I would be assuming control here, did I?"

As though on cue, the group heard the sound of boots padding along the cement ground. The Central soldiers that were standing near Edward turned on their heels and raised their hands in a salute. Following their eyes, he looked up to see a face he hadn't seen since one of the last times he returned to Eastern Command: General Hakuro. Though it had been a few months since he had seen the high-ranking General, Edward still couldn't help but feel uneasy about his presence. He had learned very early on that Hakuro wasn't Mustang's biggest fan and that his hands were tied when it came to saying anything against him because he was also under General Grumman's command. When Grumman wasn't around to police them, the old General was quick to find fault in nearly everything Mustang did. And while Edward wasn't too keen on many things, one thing in particular that he and the Colonel had agreed on was that Hakuro's general dislike of him becoming a State Alchemist was taking it too far, especially after Edward had saved him when he had been taken hostage by a group of extremists.

It was almost ironic how Hakuro was in the position to work with Mustang, though, then again, he likely enjoyed the latter's predicament. Curling his hands into fists at his side, he watched as the General stopped beside 'Mustang' and swept his eyes once over the small group. They momentarily fell on Edward and they locked for a few seconds, but after apparently not seeing anything of particular importance in his face, they once again found themselves on General Armstrong. Reaching up and patting a hand on 'Mustang's' shoulder, the older General said, "Brigadier General Mustang does not have the rank at this time to assume command of this fort. But I, on the other hand, do, General."

The lady General scoffed. "I find it funny how you suddenly seem to be eager to work with Mustang, General. If I remember correctly, you shared a few choice words with me regarding him just a few months ago."

Unsurprised by Armstrong's attempt at throwing him under the bus, the old General said, "I'll admit that Mustang and I haven't always seen eye to eye, but one thing I know we both agree on and respect are our roles." When Armstrong took a step toward him, he lifted his wrist and glanced down at his watch. "If I'm not mistaken," he said, looking back up and nodding at the soldiers that restrained her, "You should have left already, General Armstrong. Your train leaves in an hour and a half."

The soldiers complied with his silent request and took a step forward. When the General showed resistance they gave her a forceful tug. She stumbled a few steps but then straightened herself, turning to look over her shoulder and toward the two soldiers who had flanked her the since Edward first arrived at Fort Briggs. "You two," she ordered, to which the two straightened. "I want both of you to make damn sure this fort remains in peak condition."

"Yes, sir," they answered in unison with crisp salutes.

"And you," she barked, stopping their advance as they reached Edward. Caught off-guard by the volume, he too straightened up. But then, for a brief moment, her face softened. Long enough for Edward to see, but short enough that he still questioned whether or not the lady General was capable of such an expression. "Fullmetal," she said in a more hushed, yet stern tone.

He swallowed and nodded confidently despite the two dark eyes that bored into the back of his head.

"Watch yourself."

He gasped quietly and straightened up, watching as she turned away. With a scoff she walked ahead and away from him without another word, leading the two guards toward the departure bay.

'Mustang' folded his arms over his chest and smirked as she passed him by. "Be sure to tell Lieutenant Hawkeye I say 'hello'—"

With a furious growl she whirled around and spat on his boot, prompting him to glance down at it for a few moments before turning a glare toward her.

"Oh," she replied in a devious tone as the soldiers yanked her away from him. "I'll tell her alright… Right after I skewer her heart."

A look of resentment crossed the younger General's face, and for a moment Edward could have sworn he saw the real Roy Mustang in his expression. But then it vanished and his steely demeanor returned. He turned his back to her and shrugged his shoulders. "If that is the greeting you wish to give her, then I will inform her before your arrival."

The General huffed and flipped her hair over her shoulder, keeping her head high as she led the soldiers at her flank away from the group, never once stopping to look over her shoulder and back after them. Edward's eyes flickered over to 'Mustang,' watching as the Homunculus narrowed his eyes with contempt toward her. He studied his expression, trying to determine whether or not it was the Homunculus itself who was watching after her, or if it was Mustang whom had reacted to her final words. Either way, the scowl on his face vanished and he quickly recomposed himself, turning his attention back to the remaining soldiers once he saw she had made it to the awaiting vehicle.

General Hakuro was the first to break the silence, clapping his hands together and stepping forward in an effort to draw their attention back to him. After a prolonged pause, Major Miles and Captain Buccaneer finally responded, turning lazy gazes toward their new General. Knowing that he at least had a fragment of their attention, he rubbed his hands together and said, "Well then, gentlemen. If you wouldn't mind, I would love a tour of your facilities here. It's been a while since I've been north, and I'm sure that a few things have changed."

Edward saw both men hesitate, clearly agitated by the thought of answering to their commander. But when the General raised an expectant brow, both of them deflated and accepted his order, albeit hesitantly. Stepping to the side, Major Miles gestured away from them and said, "I would gladly show you our facilities, sir, as things have changed these past few years."

"That would be perfect. Thank you," Hakuro answered with a nod. But after taking a step forward, his glance shifted back toward the spot where Raven's body had disappeared, sweeping over the small valleys and hills of cement that roughened its appearance. After his eyes lingered on it for a second, he turned back to General Armstrong's former subordinates. He nodded toward Buccaneer and said, "You there, Captain…?"

"Buccaneer," the behemoth rumbled through his teeth as with a wave of his hand. "If you would be so kind as to smooth out the cement for me, it would be greatly appreciated." The corners of Buccaneer's lips curled back into a sneer. When he was about to retort, Major Miles placed a hand on his arm. The two exchanged glances briefly and, after Miles seemingly won, Buccaneer huffed and turned away from them, heading off to find the tool he needed.

Hakuro nodded with satisfaction and beckoned for 'Mustang' and Edward to follow. As Edward made a move toward him, a hand latched down onto his shoulder. Edward swallowed as Miles's brows arched in alarm.

"There's no need for all of us to go," 'Mustang' replied in a cool tone. "Seeing that both Fullmetal and I have already seen the premises, it would be a bit redundant for us to go through it a second time."

Miles opened his mouth to counter 'Mustang's' claim, but was prevented from doing so when Hakuro lifted a hand to silence him. "That's quite alright, General. I'll catch up with you after then."

'Mustang' lifted a hand in salute, dropping it only when Hakuro turned away and signaled for Miles to proceed. The hand on Edward's shoulder tightened when Miles hesitated, and Edward subtly shook his head to encourage the soldier to go on. He could see the uncertainty on the Major's face, but he pretended to pay no heed and instead offered them both a small salute in dismissal.

Finally, reluctantly, Miles concurred with Edward's silent request and turned his focus back to the General. He watched as the two of them moved away, standing firmly in his place until Miles's brief introduction died away. The Homunculus appeared to have waited until that moment too, releasing its ironclad grip on Edward's shoulder only when they were out of earshot. Despite its connection to him being severed, Edward knew that their interaction was far from over. He tore his eyes away from the General and Miles. 'Mustang's' glare was already focused on him, a brow lifted expectantly. Edward swallowed the uneasiness that had settled itself in the back of his throat and straightened himself. "Look," he growled. "You know just as well as I do that General Armstrong lied to you about where she got her information." Placing his automail hand over his heart, he said, "It was me who told her everything, not Falman. So don't punish him for something I—"

"I know," the Homunculus replied nonchalantly, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his feet. "I was aware this entire time. After all, it would be incredibly stupid of me to believe that Vato Falman knew that much about Homunculi. Even with every reference text available he still wouldn't have been able to come up the information he had. So I rationalized it and came to the conclusion fairly quickly."

"Then if you knew why didn't you argue it with General Armstrong," Edward fired back. "Falman knows only what he knew before so there's no sense keeping him locked up."

"You don't get it, do you," the 'General' answered easily. "It doesn't matter at this point who gave her the information. Insubordination and conspiring against the government are both means for punishment, so there's no argument anymore." With a dismissive wave, he turned away and said, "He will face judgement tomorrow for the serious infractions he has committed by disobeying my direct orders. And as for you," he added, "You shouldn't plan on getting off so easily either. There will still be consequences for your actions as well."

He should have known that arguing with the Homunculus was a lost cause, but that still didn't stop Edward from watching after him with his jaw hanging open. There was no reasoning with it, even when he had admitted to being the one that fed the information to General Armstrong. Even though he had readily offered himself for a more valuable exchange.

"Hey," he yelped, taking a step toward the Homunculus, "I wasn't—" A beat later he found himself yanked forward and jerked up onto his toes.

"Listen close and listen well, Elric. Because I will not be repeating myself," the Homunculus snarled, pulling Edward closer to himself using the fabric of his shirt for leverage. "You are forgetting that you are here on our terms. You have absolutely no say in what we do, and you sure as hell do not have any control over our decisions. You are nothing but a pawn to us, just as you have been since the beginning. So it's time you started acting like one—"

Without warning, without thinking, Edward's automail hand shot up and clamped down on the Homunculus's wrist, stopping him mid-tirade. Its face soured and its lips curled back, and for a moment Edward felt his heart stall in his chest. But after a few moments it sprang back to life when he reminded himself of what was at stake. Tightening his steel grip, he returned the Homunculus's glare and growled, "You know… It's funny. You say that you have access to the Colonel's memories, so I can't help but wonder if you're remembering that time Mustang came and offered me the opportunity to be a military dog." The Homunculus's nostrils flared and its eyes narrowed, and he knew that it had dug deep into the Colonel's memories in order to find the pivotal moment they had both experienced. When he was confident it had extracted it and was analyzing its significance, he continued, "Then you'll also remember my resolve."

'Mustang' wrinkled his brows, eyes curiously scanning over Edward's face as he tried to understand Edward's rhetoric. And for a split second, Edward had to fight back the urge to laugh. It could claim to have Mustang's memories all that it wanted to, but it seemed, for the time being, that they were separate enough to not completely share every emotion associated with those memories.

"All he recalls," 'Mustang' challenged with a low growl, "Was that you were near the point of hopelessness."

Edward snorted. "Is that what he remembers or is it what you interpret it as?"

The Homunculus's lips curled back. "I don't see a point to your argument. You are wasting my time."

"My point," Edward said, "Is that I was at that point of hopelessness. And yet, despite that pathetic look in my eyes, he still chose to believe in me and gave me the chance to join the military under the guise of one of their lapdogs… But certainly not for you. Not for the sole purpose of becoming one of your pawns." He applied a little more pressure to his grip on the Homunculus's wrist and saw its eyes flicker over to it. "I," he continued, "Am not a pawn. And neither is Falman… Your team… Alphonse… Or Winry."

An amused spark flickered over the 'General's' face but Edward stood his ground. "So is this a declaration of independence, Edward?"

Edward swallowed, knowing that he would need to tread lightly. "Far from it, actually." The crease the Homunculus's knitted brows formed slackened with its slight confusion, and once again Edward had to stop himself from showing any indication of how he truly felt: Fear, mixed with a small edge of lunacy. "I'm just reminding you or, I guess, him what I'm capable of. What we are capable of."

The Homunculus's eyes widened briefly, genuinely, as it processed his words and once again tried to find meaning in them. Edward allowed it the few moments it took to mull over them, already setting himself up to answer what it would inquire next. And once it had come to its own conclusion, it drew the corner of its lip back. "Is that a threat then, Elric?"

"No… A promise."

With a disgusted scoff, it released its grip and shoved Edward back. He stumbled a few steps before he caught himself and immediately straightened his body, squaring his shoulders toward the Homunculus as it turned away.

"You know; I think I finally have you all figured out."

The Homunculus stopped its retreat and tilted its head back slightly, turning its sights toward the ceiling. But despite its somewhat careless demeanor, Edward knew that it was listening.

"Envy… Sloth… Gluttony. Greed. Lust… Those are all of the Sins I've had the misfortune of crossing paths with so far. Five of the seven to be precise, all of them showing one way or another how they embody the sin they are named after. And right now, I think I have a pretty good idea which one of the two remaining you are."

Its shoulders shook as though it were biting back a laugh. Edward's lips curled back as it turned around to face him. But instead of the entertained expression he had so readily imagined it would wear, the Homunculus instead had its calculating eyes narrowed as it scrutinized Edward's words. Edward kept his glare steadfast as he locked eyes with it. Then, a seemingly entertained smirk emerged through the monster's glare and it relaxed. Shoving its hands into its pockets, it casually shrugged and said, "Is that so? Well then, color me curious, Elric. I'd love to hear what you—"

"Fullmetal."

Edward's concentrated confrontation suddenly interrupted, he jumped slightly and tore his eyes away from the Homunculus after a few prolonged seconds and found that Captain Buccaneer had reappeared, two smoothing tools in hand. Unfazed by both parties' surprise, the Captain went on to say, "You've been given cement duty," as he tossed on of the tools at him. Edward caught it and he continued, "The sooner you hurry it up, the sooner we can finish."

The Homunculus scoffed and Buccaneer fixated his glare on him. Rather than arguing, however, it instead agreed. "He's right, Fullmetal. It'll be good for you to finally pull your weight around here. We'll discuss this matter at a later time." He turned his back to Edward and took a few steps away, only stopping momentarily to nod toward Buccaneer before sauntering off toward the fort's main terminal.

He watched after the Homunculus as the distance between them grew, every footstep matching the palpatations on his heart that rang in his ears. Buccaneer's movement out of the corner of his eye ultimately drew him out of his daze.

"Did he say anything about Major Falman," the Captain urged, eyes still fixated on the spot the General had been before he disappeared around a corner.

Edward briefly glanced at him, but was quick to turn his attention away and toward to the spot he had last seen the Homunculus, his underlying fear that it would reappear nagging at him in the back of his mind. He swallowed and nodded. "Yeah…" Buccaneer shifted beside him and he could suddenly feel the higher-ranking officer's coal-colored eyes on him, urging him to go on. Edward chewed his lip for a moment while he recollected his thoughts, not allowing the weakness he felt slowly ascending his knees to overcome him. He had to remain focused on the task at hand. Had to remain objective about what he had heard. Falman's life depended on it. "He said," he continued softly as his eyes briefly focused on a group of soldiers that seemed to have strolled right out from the barracks wandered into the boiler room, "That regardless of how much information Falman did disclose to General Armstrong, the fact of the matter is that he still played along with her request. He said that Falman will suffer the consequences of his actions against the state."

Buccaneer swore under his breath and dragged his metal fingers through his mohawk. Clearly agitated, he paced forward and over to the cement pit, and slapped his smoothing tool down onto it. After going over it a few times, he lifted his eyes and glared at Edward. Realizing that it was a signal for him to join in, Edward hurriedly jogged over and stopped beside him, doing the same with his tool.

The two of them worked in silence for a few moments until a group of soldiers walked past them and out of earshot before Buccaneer finally grumbled, "Did you get the note last night then?"

Edward nodded. "Yeah, I did," he answered, assuming he meant the piece of paper that had been jammed into the bread that was on his dinner tray the prior night. "And I did exactly what General Armstrong asked me to do."

Buccaneer paused his work to glare at Edward out of the corner of his eye. Edward stopped momentarily when he uncovered a spot of blood with his tool as images of the moments leading up to and including the older General's demise clouded his mind. He tightened his grip on the tool in hand and his stomach flip-flopped. He hadn't realized he had been so shaken by his conversation with the Homunculus that the event had been temporarily dismissed in his mind. But now that he saw the unsettling proof of it once again, he felt nauseous.

Seemingly catching on, Buccaneer drove his elbow into Edward's arm, jerking him out of his stupor. "You need to work with me here, kid," he snarled. "Or else Raven won't be the only kill that monster makes."

Edward knew he was right but the suddenness of it, the shock he had felt as it betrayed its comrade, disturbed him deeply. It had so easily taken the life of another, all for it and the one who was pulling the strings' benefit. He knew that Mustang had never much cared for Raven, and Edward himself never had, but seeing something that wore his face tear the older General to shreds so effortlessly was… unnerving. Not to mention the same for how he was being asked to deal with the aftermath, as though it had never happened… Another movement from Buccaneer threatened a second elbow to Edward's side and, not wanting to feel steel rammed into his ribs, he continued, "I constructed the hatch behind a few crates in Bay F, just like General Armstrong wanted. It leads directly into the underground tunnel the Homunculus was digging." Buccaneer nodded and Edward took the opportunity to turn to him and look him in the eye. "She didn't tell me the reason why she wanted it made in the first place, but after what I just witnessed I think I have an idea.

"It's for Falman, isn't it? In the event that things would go south when it came to bringing him with her." He watched as the corners of Buccaneer's lips twitched at the mention of his General and her prowess, and Edward knew that he was right.

The faint smirk on the Captain's face quickly vanished and he turned back to his work. He pushed the tool forward and back a few as when he uttered, "It is. And now with what you've told me about the Homunculus, it would appear that we need to use it." He stopped pushing the brush and focused his gaze on Edward.

Without having to look at him, Edward knew. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, and then nodded. That night, he decided right then and there. That night he would free Falman from his confines to ensure that he would live.

The first thing Winry registered as she slowly began to wake up was the sound of two voices. Wrinkling her brows, she strained to listen, trying to determine their sources. One was clearly a woman's, and the other was that of a young boy – a metallic reverberation accompanying his every word. After taking a few moments to process them, she slowly began to recognize them as Gracia Hughes' and Alphonse's voices.

Oh right… She and Alphonse had decided to stay the night at the Hughes household. Slowly opening her eyes to a rather dark room, she rolled her head to the side and found herself facing the silhouettes of a coffee table and a set of lounge chairs. Her eyes then darted up to survey her surroundings further, and after a few moments of examining the dim room she recognized it as the Hughes' living room. With a small sigh, she slowly eased herself upward and rubbed the knot in her neck. She must have fallen asleep on Gracia's couch after… A knot formed in her stomach as she began to go over the night's evens in her head, and every moment thereafter.

After Lust stopped terrorizing them and had left, Gracia had stayed up with her in order to once again confirm everything they had discussed with the Homunculus, as though seeing what she had done was not enough to verify what she had said. She closed her eyes and her hand slipped down from her neck and back to her side. Gracia had taken the insult particularly hard after they had to explain to her again what they believed had happened to her friends. And it seemed like, with every question she asked, they had fewer and fewer answers. Though one thing they did know was that they had both silently agreed to not tell her about what Lust had done to them the previous day. They had vowed to not involve her at all, but now that she was they would make sure she knew as little as possible to prevent her from endangering herself and Elicia. Because in their minds the less she knew, the less likely she was to draw their undivided attention again.

She was momentarily pulled from her thoughts when she registered a familiar clanking noise and, recognizing it as Alphonse, put on the best smile she could muster when he walked into the room.

"Oh, I didn't realize you were awake, Winry," he said as he moved toward her, a tray of what she assumed was breakfast food in his hands.

"I just woke up," she croaked, her voice still gritty and dry from sleep.

He nodded and eased himself down onto his knees, setting the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch she was half laying on. "I brought you some breakfast," he offered. "Mrs. Hughes made pancakes this morning."

Swinging her legs over the edge of the couch, she pulled herself into a sitting position in front of the tray. But rather than touching what he had offered her, she looked past him and toward where the kitchen was. "How is she doing?"

He looked over his shoulder and toward where she was looking. When he saw that Gracia hadn't appeared, he turned back to her and admitted, "She's still a bit shaken up. She said that she… Didn't sleep well last night."

Of course she hadn't, Winry thought as she kept her focus on the kitchen. Who could possibly sleep after discovering that? It had taken her at least a few days to even be able to keep her eyes shut long enough to be considered 'sleep.' But even then, it was hardly restful. She had only been awake for a few minutes, but she already felt like she had stayed awake for more than twenty-four hours.

"Are you okay?"

She lifted her head up, realizing that Alphonse had been speaking to her for longer than she had just heard from him. With a shake of her head, she said, "I'm fine, Al. I'm just… thinking."

"Oh," he answered half-heartedly, turning his head toward the spot her eyes had been focused on. "I see…"

She breathed out through her nose and closed her eyes when he turned back to her. "I'm sorry, Al."

"No," he gasped as he waved his hands back and forth. "It's okay, Winry. I understand."

"No, it isn't okay," she countered softly. "I've been doing nothing but shutting you out, Al. It isn't okay that I've been doing that to you." She opened her eyes to find the specks of light that represented his, watching them flicker momentarily. With a small sigh, she shook her head and continued, "It wasn't fair of me to do that to you, Al. You've been nothing but strong from the moment you found out what had happened. But me," she added with a shrug, "I've done nothing but look at the past and what had happened instead of focusing on the now, and the fact that you're here with me now in one piece." Reaching out, she took one of his gloved hands in hers and held it in her palm, running her thumbs over the dry, cracking fabric. Though they were not human, they had a worm, calloused look to them that had accumulated rips and tears over the four years he had had that body.

She knew that if she did a more thorough search, she would find an assortment of nicks and scratches from the times he and Edward had gotten themselves into trouble. For a moment, she almost began to think about how many times their adventures had ended in close calls for the two of them… Winry shook her head to rid herself of the thought and decided that, like she had said moments ago, she would not live in the past. Instead, she would live in the present and take every moment one step at a time. But only if he did too. "Promise me…"

Alphonse hummed a confused response and she lifted her head to peer into the bright red orbs that had become his eyes. "Promise me," she said again, more clearly. More definite. "Promise me that you'll take care of yourself, Alphonse. Promise that you'll take care of the body you have right now so that you can continue on with your journey to getting your body and Edward's back."

His eyes glowed brighter upon hearing her revelation and he squeaked, "Of… Of course, Winry. I'll continue to do my maintenance and make sure that I'm ready for Brother to come back. And," he added as he rubbed the back of his helmet with his free hand, "I'll be sure to take care of it every other time too."

She felt a small smile creep onto her face. "If you can promise that, then I can promise to let go of the past and look toward the future." His shoulders slackened and for a moment she could have sworn that even his armor smiled back. Winry sighed contently and let go of his hand. As she made a move to get up, she heard someone softly say her name. Turning her head toward the source of the sound, she watched as Mrs. Hughes entered the room and made a beeline toward the couch. Winry shuffled over and made room on the chair as Gracia sank down beside her.

The older woman offered her a small smile. "I hope you slept alright, Winry. The couch isn't the most comfortable place to sleep, I'll admit. But I was afraid that we'd wake you up after you had fallen asleep last night. You need as much rest as you can get."

"I slept alright," Winry affirmed. "But… What about you?"

Gracia moved her shoulders up and down. "Admittedly not as well as I would have liked, but I was able to get some rest after I got Elicia into bed."

But whether or not it was a restful sleep was the question that hung in the air between them as Winry noted the dark circles that had begun to take shape beneath Mrs. Hughes's eyes. Winry had had trouble sleeping from the moment she discovered what had become of the Colonel and Lieutenant, and she knew that it would continue to be as such until a resolution was found. How long that would take, though, she did not know.

But the difference between Gracia and Winry was that Winry had at least experienced alchemy in its many forms throughout her life; all thanks to Edward and Alphonse. So, though she still had difficulties accepting what had happened, she at least was able to understand, even if it seemed to stretch the boundaries of what even the brothers knew of alchemy.

Gracia, on the other hand, had very little experience with alchemy as far as Winry knew. She likely believed that such a thing was a nearly impossible occurrence. And yet a product of myth and legend stood before her just hours before, wearing the face of one of her dearest friends. And then to discover that the monster behind the mask knew at least to some extent what had become of her husband. Winry honestly in awe seeing Gracia standing before her offering her a meal just as she had done many times before. But even so… There was still an unmistakable sadness in her eyes, and she knew without saying that what had happened the night before was still playing on repeat over and over again in the older woman's mind. And she knew from her own experience that unless it was addressed, that fear would continue to accumulate.

Her face softened and Gracia took notice, the small smile on her face disappearing as Winry said, "But are you alright?"

Gracia's lips immediately parted to reply but then she paused, and instead glanced down at her lap and rubbed her hands together nervously. Without hesitating Winry reached forward and placed her hand atop hers. The corner of Gracia's lips twitched, though her eyes still focused downward. "That's a difficult question to answer, Winry," she confessed. "One I knew you would ask me. Admittedly I went through this scenario a few times in my head, trying to discover a way to tell you that I was fine so that you wouldn't worry about us. But," she continued with a soft sigh, "I also knew that I couldn't lie to you because honestly, who could be fine after that?" She lifted her eyes to peer into Winry's, and it took every ounce of Winry's willpower to not gasp. Just the returning thought of the experience seemed to age Gracia by at least ten years. The circles beneath her eyes seemed so much more prominent now; the sadness within them deeper than they had been before. The creases on her face seemed to have darkened and grew, and for a moment she looked like a different person.

But then, the faintest of smiles found its way onto her face once more. "After I thought about it, though, I realized that you and Alphonse had known about this longer than I have. And yet, despite knowing all of that, the two of you still remained strong. It's such a difficult burden to carry, and yet here you are: taking this horrible situation in stride. So I thought long and hard to myself and asked, 'What can I do to be like them?' And the answer that I came up with was to keep my eyes set forward. To take this turn of events in stride. Just like the two of you." Her eyebrows arched and she pulled her hands out from beneath Winry's, lifting them to Winry's face.

Winry blinked, confused, until Gracia took her face in her hands and brushed away the tears that had escaped her eyes and trickled down her cheek. She blinked a few times, trying to rid herself of them, and shook her head. "But I'm not…" Winry paused, however, when she remembered her conversation with Alphonse, and her promise that was all too similar to Gracia's. Instead of completing her thought, she smiled back.

Seemingly satisfied by her response, Gracia pulled away and sat back on her heels. "I'll admit that I'm not alright, especially since I'm still trying to understand what has happened. But as long as I keep my sights on you and Alphonse and follow your lead, I know that we'll be okay. And besides," she added with a small nod toward the little Elicia's bedroom, "I need to maintain a sense of normalcy for Elicia's sake. And in order to do so she's going to need someone who is strong. Last night was the night where I struggled with that. But today? I've decided that today is a new day."

"You say that I'm strong," Winry contended. "But I think that it's you who is strong, Mrs. Hughes." The woman lifted her brows and Winry explained, "You've taken everything we've told you and everything you've seen and learned, and yet you've still decided to move forward and put on a smile. If anything," she said with a shrug, "I should be the one that's admiring you."

"Let's agree to disagree then," she offered. Though Winry would beg to differ, she nodded. A smile touched Gracia's lips. "You're so incredibly brave, Winry. It's something that Maes picked up about you the moment he first met you. He would be proud."

The corners of Winry's lips curved upward and she said, "I'll try to make him proud… And you. Although," she added, stealing a glance toward Alphonse, "I've had Al by my side. He's been nothing but strong this entire time and…" He trailed off, realizing that his soul-fire eyes had seemingly dissipated. She wrinkled her brow and bowed closer to him and waved a hand in front of his face. "Al?" When he did not immediately respond, her heart stalled. "Alphonse…? Al—"

Alphonse gasped and jumped, eyes flickering brightly as he finally responded to Winry's calling. He blinked a few times and tilted his helm. "Sorry Winry. What were you saying?"

The frown that found its way to her face deepened. "Are you alright, Al? You… didn't answer me when I said your name."

"Oh," he squeaked. "I didn't?" Reaching up and rubbing the back of his helmet embarrassedly, he confessed, "I'm sorry Winry, Mrs. Hughes. I think I just kind of… zoned out there for a minute."

"'Zoned out,'" Winry echoed. "Is it something that you've always been able to do?"

"Ah… A little, I guess," he admitted. "Sometimes when I think really hard I just kind of," he lifted his hands, "Get lost in my thoughts."

"Oh," Winry answered with a sigh of relief. "I'm glad that you're okay then. You had me worried for a second there."

"Sorry to worry you," he offered.

Winry shook her head. "It's okay, Al. Really. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

His shoulders sagged with relief and he nodded. Then, shifting his eyes from Winry to Gracia, he asked, "Is there… anything I missed?"

"No," Gracia answered softly. "We were just discussing a few things. Winry here was very helpful to me, and I was just expressing my gratitude toward her."

His eyes flickered between the two of them, taking note of their expressions. But when he undoubtedly saw that they were both at peace, he too allowed himself to be at ease.

Winry smiled, and felt that, for the first time since they had been thrown into this situation, she finally felt confident. "Are you ready," she asked as she rose to her feet and offered him a hand.

The hesitated, eyes jumping from her hand to her face and back again. But her words and actions were genuine. She could still be afraid, but also brave. And if she was going to protect Edward, Alphonse, Mrs. Hughes, and everyone else, she was going to have to be a little of both.

He seemed to understand. With a nod, he took her hand and she helped him to his feet. "Yeah. I'm ready, Winry…"

Glancing up at the clock that hung above the register, Jean Havoc found himself pleasantly surprised that, for once, he was right on time with restocking a few of the low-hanging shelves. Though it had taken some getting used to given his condition, he was finally able to find a rhythm that worked in his favor before opening the shop for its morning hours. With a satisfied nod, he balanced a box of paper towels on his knees and slowly edged away from the register and wheeled himself toward the back of the store.

After finding and turning down the correct aisle, he eased his way over to the section he saw that lacked an adequate amount of the paper. Just as he began to place them onto the shelf, he heard the telltale bell that hung above the shopfront ring and he instantly stopped. "Hello," he called loudly as he set the box on the floor and slowly began to backpedal. "Is someone there?"

A muffled sound came as the reply and he tensed. He knew for a fact that he hadn't unlocked the front door and, with Rebecca already gone to Eastern Command and his brother and mother not scheduled to arrive for another half hour, the list of who could possibly need and had access at that hour dwindled. Turning his chair back toward the aisle, he carefully wheeled himself up a few feet and stopped at the aisle's edge to listen again. Being closer to the intruder, he was finally able to hear them and hear something that he… did not expect. What it sounded like was… crying. More confused than on-guard, he pushed himself around the corner.

In retrospect, he decided that he would have been prepared for almost anything. He had even anticipated a knife-wielding intruder and decidedly determined that facing one would have hurt far less than what he witnessed the moment he turned the corner.

Kneeling in the center of the shop, her hands up and over her eyes, was Rebecca. When she heard him roll out and into view, she lowered her hands and looked toward him, tears overflowing from her eyes and staining her cheeks.

"Rebecca," he gasped, rolling himself over to her as quickly as he could.

"I'm sorry," she choked out over and over again as she tried to wipe away the tears that continued to roll down her face. "I'm so sorry, Jean. I should have seen this coming. I should have known!"

"Known? Rebecca," he appealed to her, reaching out to help her wipe the tears away, "What do you—"

"They," she sobbed. "They want me to—Go to the funeral. They said that I've been," she hiccupped, "Specifically requested to by G-Grumman himself."

"They want you to…" he slowly echoed back as the gravity of her new assignment slowly sank in. They were going to take her too. There was no doubt about that. The orders were for the funeral and the funeral only as far as he could tell, but he knew that they could easily extend her 'sentence' to force her to stay. All they needed was due cause and she would be their hostage, just like Alphonse and Winry.

"Stop," he ordered softly, lifting a hand to brush her tears away from her eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong. Let's talk this through…"

Rebecca shook her head. "There isn't anything to talk about, Jean. They already bought me a-a ticket. They-they're expecting me tomorrow."

Jean felt the blood drain from his cheeks at her revelation. "So soon…?"

She nodded. "The funeral is set for three days from now. They…" She trailed off, as if unsure she wanted to tell him what they had planned.

"Rebecca." He tilted her chin up enough to better look her in the eyes. She had calmed down slightly; not enough for his comfort though. He needed to know. Needed to know what exactly they had planned for her. "What is it, Becks? What do they want you to do?"

She sniffed and tore her gaze away from him, focusing her eyes on the floor. "I… T… They…."

"Rebecca, please," he begged, his voice cracking slightly on the last syllable. It was difficult seeing her this way. Seeing how broken she was. They had both lost two of the most important people to them, but in some ways he had lucked out being forced away because of his 'useless' status. But she… She was still a pawn in their eyes. A pawn that they still felt they had control over… "Please tell me."

She hiccupped and shook her head again as she tried to calm herself. Jean leaned back in his chair to give her the space she needed, keeping his hand on her shoulder the rest of the while. After a few strangled sobs and a few more tears spent, she finally began to calm down, her gasps quieting to small sniffles as she composed herself. Wiping her tears off of her cheeks, she sniffled once more and raised her head, her eyes meeting his. He offered her a small smile in reassurance, moving his hand from her shoulder to tilt her chin up. "Now," he began again slowly, "What is it?"

Rebecca took a deep, shuddering breath and held it for a few moments before exhaling. "They… want more than that, Jean. They… want me to transfer there."

"'Transfer,'" he echoed, and she nodded in affirmation.

"Th-they want me to be a part of Grumman's security team," she continued. "And… And she would be the one I report to. I…" she whimpered as the sobs she had tried to repress began to wrack her body. "I don't think I can face her again…"

Jean leaned back in his chair as the last ounce of his blood ran cold in his veins. They were taking her. At that moment she was theirs again. Their pawn. One that not even a knight could protect… He stiffened when he felt something brush past him but, when his senses returned and he realized that she had raised up onto her knees to embrace him, instantly relaxed and wound his arms around her, pulling her close as she buried her face into his chest and once again broke down in a fit of sobs.

"And there you have it," the Homunculus purred as General Grumman looked on in disbelief. "Rebecca Catalina will now be a part of your security team as we enter a new era for Amestris."

When he had finally picked his jaw up off the floor, Eugene could only find himself stare in awe at the creature that took on his granddaughter's form. Everything. Everything down to the most minute of details had been thoroughly planned and laid out for them, working perfectly into their plans as they had intended it to be. No doubt Rebecca Catalina had fallen into it from the beginning, despite their supposed disdain of her involvement up until that point. Everything, it seemed, had been planned as far as he could tell.

Once he finally found his voice, he managed to sputter, "You… You monster."

She lifted a blonde brow and cocked her head. "'Monster,' you say? Is that really what you call someone who has backed you into a corner just because they outwitted you? Because I figured you would be impressed. Like grandfather, like granddaughter, hmm?"

"Y… You," he sputtered as she pretended to straighten the trinkets on his desk. "How dare you insinuate something so preposterous! You and I are nothing alike."

Her hands froze, hovering over a small teacup he so proudly displayed. His eyes flicked down to it as she took hold of it, and he felt his chest tightened. Without a second thought he dove forward and grabbed at it, managing to brush his fingertips over its rim before she pulled it away. As she lifted it to her face to look it over, he slammed his hands on his desk and leapt to his feet. Unimpressed by his outburst, she lazily dragged her attention from the object and focused it on him. Poking a finger through the handle, she hung it on the edge of her nail, allowing it to rock freely back and forth as she lifted a brow. "Really," came her cool response as the smallest hint of a smile played on her lips.

He slammed a hand down hard on the desk. "You are not my granddaughter," he seethed. "And to suggest it is a dishonor to her."

Her lips turned downward into a pout. For a few moments longer she watched the teacup balanced on the edge of her finger, observing how dangerously close it was to slipping off and crashing to the floor below. Then, as though she had realized something, her smile returned. "This teacup is part of a set, is it not?"

His lips curled back. "Don't change the subject, you monster."

Her eyes wandered over to him and she arched a brow. "I'm getting there, old man. Now tell me, this is part of a set, isn't it?"

Eugene pursed his lips together and chose to remain silent, for he knew the second he opened his mouth he would lash out at the Homunculus again. She did not seem to mind nor care, because a few moments later she answered the question herself. "I remember when I would climb up on a chair and pull them down from the mantelpiece, and have a tea party with a few of my most cherished toys. Father was particularly possessive of them, though, since they had belonged to my mother." Holding it up to eyelevel, she tapped a finger from her free hand against its chipped base. "He took and hid the set after I damaged one of them. I'm surprised to see this, honestly," she admitted, tapping it again. "I would have thought you would display one of the undamaged pieces. Or is it because you know of its history and have a fondness for it, knowing that it is one of the few remaining pieces that both your daughter and granddaughter came in contact with, hmm?" Her violet eyes flickered up from it to gauge his reaction.

He had tried to bite his tongue. Tried to push back the utter feeling of disgust that churned in his stomach the entire time the Homunculus was talking. But that had been the final straw. The monster's audacity was inexcusable.

"How… dare you," he snarled through his teeth. "How dare you continue to wear her face and speak as though you are her. How dare you dig through her memories and act as if you were there. You might have Riza's memories, but you know nothing about her or my daughter." He lifted his hand and pointed toward the door. "I'm sick of your rhetoric because it is you who is wasting my time. I want you out of here this instant you—" The sound of glass shattering tore him from his diatribe and he stopped, eyes immediately flickering down to the tea cup that now lay shattered on the ground in front of his desk. For a moment he completely forgot what he had been saying, now trying to process what had happened. And when his mind failed to piece together a reasonable explanation, he looked up at the Homunculus to see that the smirk on her face had vanished, replacing itself with a deep scowl.

It reached up and wiped the corner of its lip with the back of its hand and hissed, "You're right. I really should be leaving. There are too many tasks to complete and I've spent more than enough time entertaining you."

Eugene's lips curled back as she began her retreat. "You…," he sputtered, "I'm not through with you yet." He stormed around his desk and she stopped in front of the door. "Why did you do that?! Why would you destroy one of the few things I had left of her?" Her hand went down to the handle and he took a step toward her, but withdrew when he felt a crunch beneath his feet. Lifting his foot, he watched as shards of the ruined cup loosened themselves from the soles of his boots and landed on top of the rest of the broken glass. He jerked his head up, about to admonish the monster again, when he heard the door to his office slam closed, the Homunculus gone.

He had half a mind to go after it, demand why it had done what it did. Demand why it had violated the escape Lieutenants Havoc and Catalina had taken to the East. Why it felt the need to continue to play with their lives as though they were pawns. Why it had compared itself to his granddaughter and had violated her memories.

And why… And why it had…

He hadn't realized that he had sunk to the ground in front of the shattered remains of his daughter's possession; his granddaughter's innocence. But now, as he picked up the pieces and curled his fingers around them, holding them against his heart as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, all he wanted to know was… Why?

Lust pressed a hand over her mouth and cleared her throat. She found that the further she got from the old man's office, the more control she gained over the Lieutenant. Though she still wasn't too keen about the fact that she had allowed the latter to gain so much control in the first place.

She quickened her pace.

The Lieutenant was still fighting, though her efforts had not been as strong as they had been previously; something Lust gratefully attributed to her valiant attempts before. She was so weak that she hardly had the energy to speak, reserving every bit of strength to use to push back instead.

Despite being less apparent than a few times previously, the physical manifestations of the Lieutenant's fights were still ever present. Lust lifted her hand and wiped away the remaining blood that had accumulated on her lips. Hawkeye had calmed slightly as she approached the office she had been assigned to, but Lust still believed that it wasn't enough. If her struggles continued to interfere, it would become extremely problematic once Rebecca Catalina arrived. There had to be some way she could contain her…

She pushed open the office door and found herself facing a large plate of metal. Just as surprised as she, Alphonse Elric jumped and whirled around to face her. Lust lifted a brow and stepped around him, taking note of Winry in the process, and walked over to her desk before turning around to face them. "I have to say that I'm impressed," Lust noted as she leaned back against her desk and folded her arms across her chest. "The past two days have been very… hectic for you two. I almost figured you would have wanted to request the day off."

Winry shifted uncomfortably next to Alphonse, and Lust silently challenged to respond. Lust's taunting of the young girl greatly agitated Hawkeye, and if creating another rift would possibly be enough to push the Lieutenant over the edge, then another confrontation might be beneficial. But instead of immediately answering like she had hoped, Winry pursed her lips together and put on an impassive expression.

Lust frowned. How boring…

"We didn't want to," Alphosne chimed in as he raised a finger. "Like we said before, we're not afraid to continue playing by the rules if it means that our friends and family are safe."

Lust lifted a brow. No doubt the boy was including Gracia Hughes in the mix of their so-called 'family and friends.' In all honestly, she wouldn't have given the woman the time of day if she hadn't run into her by chance. But now, it seemed, she had another pawn she could manipulate if she so desired. Though, she decided as she watched the two of them, it would be one she would keep in her back pocket for another time…

She sighed. The Lieutenant, though still on edge because of the children's presence, had calmed considerably, and by then it seemed unlikely she would get a rise out of her. Her eyes flickered from Alphonse to Winry, and then back to Alphonse again. "I see," she answered as she looked down at a set of papers that she had placed on her desk earlier. After finding the name of one of one of the soldiers that had checked into the ward, she continued, "There's a patient in Ward B that checked in early this morning complaining about the connection in his automail shoulder. Your task for today is to diagnose and treat his condition so that he can return to his duties."

A loud 'bang' drew her attention from the papers and she lifted her head to find Alphonse Elric sprawled out across the floor. She stood from her chair as Winry turned her eyes away from Lust, staring down at Alphonse in horror.

Lust would admit that even her heart had leapt worriedly, though she most attributed it to the Lieutenant's shock, as she herself recovered from her initial shock before Winry did. She watched as the former fell to her knees beside him and placed her hands on his chest plate. "Al…? Hey, Alphonse?!"

The suit of armor remained silent, lying eerily still in the center of the office floor. The Lieutenant's mind immediately went into a frenzy, trying to find reason for what had happened since their eyes had not witnessed it. But the thought that kept jumping to the forefront of their mind had been one thing: his blood seal. The alchemic symbol that bound his soul to their world. Without it, he would vanish from their plane of existence and return to his body beyond the Gate.

Nothing that they had seen could have triggered such a response, however, as he, Winry, and they had been the only ones in the room, meaning that something must have acutely happened or, more likely, something pertaining to the incident that had occurred a few days prior had suddenly manifested itself. And if that were the case, she realized as the corners of her lips curved upward, then maybe she could do something with that. After all, what had just happened was unavoidable, it seemed. There was no use crying over it like a certain someone had begun to do…

"Alphonse," Winry bawled. "Alphonse, please answer me!"

The Lieutenant, feeling Lust's intentions, lurched forward but Lust brushed her away. "How… curious," she mused, stepping around her desk and toward the pair situated in the center of the room. "Has this happened to poor Alphonse before?"

Winry ignored her question and rocked the hollow armor shell that had housed the boy, begging and pleading for him to respond to her cries. But just as Lust had surmised, the child did not reappear.

Lust paid no mind to being ignored. The desperation that seeped from the Lieutenant's soul was enough to tell her that what she had fabricated was enough to get the reaction she needed. And though she knew she was falling into it, the Lieutenant still did not relent, forcing herself against the wall Lust had constructed between them. "Could something have happened to his blood seal? Maybe," she elaborated as she raised her hand and extended her claws, "Something traumatic."

Winry immediately stopped her pleading and tore her eyes away from her fallen childhood friend, her eyes instantly zeroing in on Lust's hand.

"Such a shame it had to come to this," she continued with feigned sympathy as she took a step forward. "But I suppose it couldn't be helped. Damage to an alchemic relic that precious is detrimental, isn't it?"

"S-stay back," Winry snapped, and Lust paused. "Don't… Don't come any closer. Not until he wakes up!"

"Do you think that he will, though," Lust challenged. "I mean, if his blood seal is involved, who's to say that permanent damage hadn't been done after our little… confrontation."

"W… what," Winry whimpered as her eyes grew wide. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Lust began with a shrug, "Who's to say that his body wasn't put back together completely. I mean, our Father did the best he could to repair his armor shell. But it's entirely possible that he missed something. All it would take," she added with a flick of her hand, "Was a little microfracture to cut right through it, right?"

"But… But I would have seen something," Winry tried to rationalize. "I would have seen something like that."

"Would you have," Lust challenged. "Because sometimes things that small go unnoticed by even the most observant of people."

"No… I…" Winry jerked around and ripped Alphonse's helmet off, tossing it away from his body as she peered into his armor and probed around to find his seal.

The Lieutenant immediately retaliated against Lust's firm hold on her, clawing desperately as she tried to make her way to the surface. She sensed Lust's intentions and knew what was to come, and yet she still chose to defend the young girl and her innocence, rather than how she would be remembered by her.

Lust was too charged to back down. Not with what was at stake. She shoved the Lieutenant back, ignored the blood that began to pool in her throat with one and only one focus in mind. "It's such a shame, isn't it," she started, momentarily seizing Winry's attention again. "That this ended up happening. All because the Lieutenant couldn't shut her mouth."

"What… What do you mean," Winry sniffed.

Lust pursed her lips together and offered the young girl a sorrowful smile. "Who else would have told me about his weakness and yours? There isn't anyone else here who knows about Alphonse's blood seal. Once I found out, I knew that it was the perfect weakness to exploit."

"You're… You're lying," Winry argued back. "Ed and Al said that she would never tell you any of that. They said she was protecting us. That—"

"Is that what they told you," Lust quipped as she cocked her head. "Because answer for me this question: Was she there beneath Central Command when I drew blood from your neck?"

Winry immediately opened her mouth to form a rebuttal but then she seemed to reconsider and instead refrained from answering, shutting her mouth.

"What about in the moments before I tore Alphonse to shreds, possibly damaging his blood seal beyond repair?"

Again Winry could not answer and Lust had to refrain from allowing the smile she had suppressed make its way to her face. Even the Lieutenant's struggle added fuel to the fire; her futile attempt at gaining control backfiring as she was constantly rejected, both mentally and physically.

"And what about now," Lust implored. "While you weep over what remains of Alphonse Elric?"

This time Winry looked down at Alphonse, her hands curling into fists on his breastplate. Her eyes were hidden beneath the fringe that had fallen over her face, but Lust did not need to see them to know that she was second guessing everything she had once believed. And now, she decided as Hawkeye pushed against her with everything her soul could muster, it was time to go for the kill.

Lust cleared her throat and explained, "You were so indoctrinated by the Elric brothers' hopes that you were led astray by them. The Lieutenant is far too ashamed to admit to what she has done, and far too involved in self-preservation to aid you." Winry's lower lip trembled and she looked down at Alphonse, brushing shaking fingers along the edge where his two chest plates met. Her response was even better than Lust could have hoped for. The look in her eyes, the complete and utter anguish they reflected. It was absolutely delicious.

"You've thought it before, haven't you?"

Winry gasped and looked up from the armor.

The corners of Lust's lips curled upward. "I can see it in your eyes, Winry. You've known it in your heart all this time. How unfortunate that you didn't listen to yourself before all of this happened. Because maybe if you had, Alphonse would not be in this state…" Her heart constricted and a gasp escaped her lips. In one last attempt, the Lieutenant pushed with all of her remaining strength and—

"Wait!" Riza froze mid-step, shocked that the word had come from her own two lips. She lifted her hand to her face, tasting the swirls of blood on her tongue. Feeling it begin to seep from the corners of her eyes as her body attempted to reject her possession.

Winry's eyes widened. "Get away," she cried as she covered Alphonse's stilled body with her hands. "Stay back!"

Riza suspended her advance, body trembling as she tried to maintain control. She squeezed her hands shut and dug her nails into her palms, feeling the spears at her fingertips penetrating down to the muscles and ligaments of her hands. But still she held firm, gripping her consciousness like as firmly as she could. Even then she only knew she had a few moments before the Homunculus overpowered her and dragged her back down into the darkest recesses of her mind. But if she could let Winry know that she was there, that she was still fighting for them, she could tell her that—

"She was right! You…" Winry gasped as her tears continued to spill over and down her cheeks. "You didn't do anything protect us. To protect him!"

The blood was pooling in the back of her throat, behind her eyes. It was suffocating. It was exhausting.

But she had to endure it. Fight it. For them… For Winry… For Alphonse…-

Alphonse. The one that, despite everything that had happened, had not given up hope. The one who clung to the notion that she was still there and fighting for them. And at that moment he needed her. She needed to… Help him.

Taking an unsteady step forward and reaching toward them, fighting tooth and nail against the Homunculus's grip, she was finally able to choke out, "Win-ry—"

"No," Winry sobbed. "Don't come any closer, Miss Riza." Riza's stopped as Winry's tear-filled eyes met hers, and her heart stalled. She could see it in Winry's expression. Could see in her eyes that she knew she was speaking directly to Riza. Winry blinked, freeing the first tears that had newly formed in the corners of her eyes, and immediately after the rest followed. "It's… It's your fault this happened. You're the one who did this you… You… You monster!"

And there it was.

Never had she thought that the Lieutenant held the girl with such high regard. But the thought that Winry Rockbell would have such an impact on her had escaped her notice when probing the Lieutenant's memories.

Had Lust known that was all it took to break through the Lieutenant's near impenetrable wall she had constructed around herself, then she would have antagonized the young girl sooner.

"You hear that, Lieutenant," Lust mused. "She believes you to be as potent as we are. Honestly, I wish I could say that I'm surprised, but I'm really not." She watched the Lieutenant's soul's manifestation amongst the tempest of souls as she continued to gape, still unable to process what had happened. "She essentially believes you to be like one of us which isn't too far a stretch," she added, gazing down at the spears she had used to penetrate the Lieutenant's soul. "After all, you're practically a part of me now."

The Lieutenant opened her mouth to respond, but promptly shut it when a trickle of blood escaped her lip and rolled down her chin. Instead, she reached up and clumsily gripped the spears that had been run through her chest and held loosely onto them in an effort to support herself.

The corners of Lust's lips curved downward. "Even after all this time you still have the audacity to rebel? Are you forgetting what she just said to you? To her –to everyone you ever knew- you are nothing but a monster like the rest of us-"

"That… That isn't true," the Lieutenant replied laboriously. "I am… nothing like…" She slowly tapered off, dipping forward as the effects of Lust's spears slowly began to overcome her. "… You…"

Lust sneered. "You would like to think that, wouldn't you? Then please, by all means, explain to Winry why you wouldn't come to their aid before? Or would you rather wallow in the self-pity that has begun to cloud your mind?"

"I… I'm…" the Lieutenant answered breathlessly.

"Our hearts are connected, Lieutenant. I'm surprised you haven't realized that yet… Especially since you dealt me quite a bit of damage during our last tussle. But now that I've found a way into your heart," Lust continued with a flick of her wrist, twisting the spears that penetrated the Lieutenant's chest. Hawkeye gasped and her muscles tensed, the rest of her weight shifting forward as she came to a rest on Lust's body. Lifting a hand, she pressed the Lieutenant's head against her shoulder and soothed, "I know every emotion, every feeling that is tumultuously raging inside of you at this moment, Lieutenant. To not know that would be rather inattentive of me, wouldn't it?" She paused for a moment, waiting and almost hoping the Lieutenant would respond in some manner, to perhaps show her that there was indeed some fight left within her.

But the young girl's words had cut her deep, and the Lieutenant remained eerily still, every ounce of her strength gone from her previous struggles. It was almost surprising to her just how hollow the Lieutenant felt – both in mind and soul.

"I can feel it in you; that uncertainty you've been harboring in your heart. It's grown, Lieutenant, with every encounter you've had with those you once knew. I can hear it every time you try to reach out to them: the fear that you're becoming more like me. That you aren't pushing hard enough. Not because you aren't capable, but because you have grown to accept me as a part of yourself. You've begun to accept that it is truth. The little girl, Winry, has seen for herself that you are no longer capable of discerning what is you and what is me. And now that she has proclaimed that you are no different than I." Her eyes flickered over to the manifestation of the Lieutenant's soul as she felt the final piece of her remaining will shrivel up.

"It seems we've reached a rather climatic conclusion to this chapter, haven't we, Lieutenant," Lust hummed in Riza's ear, pressing the heel of her hand against the latter's sternum to steady her. "But don't worry. This isn't the end. Not yet. I still have many uses for you."

A smile found its way to her lips when her host's soul willingly relented, an utterance of a quiet, "Help me," finding its way past her lips before she fell into a stuporous state.

Lust's eyes flickered down to the pair on the ground in front of her, resurveying the scene that had unfolded in the moments she had withdrawn into herself. Her view swept from Alphonse to Winry, who had pressed her palms to the former's armor and bent forward, resting her forehead against her hands as her body shook.

With a composed huff, Lust stepped over the suit of armor and grabbed the handle of the office's door. She twisted it and, when she heard the mechanism pop, pushed the door open, stopping just before she stepped out. Throwing once last glance over her shoulder, she nodded toward the suit of armor and said, "I'll see to it that Zampano and Jerso find you. I wouldn't want you to try and remove that by yourself." Winry paid no heed to her words, remaining where she was over the armor that had formally been Alphonse Elric. Realizing that she was, perhaps, a little too broken to answer, Lust scoffed and muttered a mild, "Pathetic," before walked out of the room and closing the door behind her.

Leaning back against the door, she squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed a handful of her uniform in her hand, twisting it as her heart repeatedly slammed against her ribcage. Unable to maintain her façade, she slid down the door and sunk to the floor, resting her forehead against her knees.

She knew it would soon pass. But had she realized sooner that the resorption of the Lieutenant's soul would prove so weakening, she would have dealt the final blow at a more convenient time.

That time the feeling had been the same.

An existence on a plane of continuity that was not of that world or the next. An existence he had believed was the result of drawing himself back into his mind.

But this time… there was no darkness.

There had been a door. A door he had grown familiar with whenever he replayed those memories while his brother slept. A door that held the secrets of alchemy and transmutation and answers to everything.

But in front of that door had been another.

In front of that door had been—

Alphonse could hear a muted voice, panicked and scared. A familiar voice.

He reached toward it. Away from the expanse of white.

A jolt traveled through his soul and he gasped, suddenly finding himself staring up at three familiar faces.

They appeared just as bewildered as he. Terrified, even. Two sets belonging to Jerso and Zampano both widened and the one set that were Winry's, tearful. But the impending news of where he had been, what he had seen, demanded that Alphonse speak first as Winry's bottom lip began to tremble.

"W… Winry," he whimpered. "I think… I think I just saw my body."

The sound of footsteps echoing against the pavement pulled Vato Falman from his uncomfortable slumber, and he sat up on the bench he had used as a makeshift bed, turning his focus toward the shadow that had fallen across the path that led in front of the cell that had housed him. His mind began to race and his heart trembled in his chest. Somehow he knew that it wasn't General Armstrong that was returning for him. It had been nearly two days since he had been escorted there and, while he had not received any information since then, he somehow knew that her plan had failed. He steeled himself, ready to face the monster that had taken his superior officer's face. Ready to accept whatever punishment it had planned for him, knowing full well that his life would be among those threatened.

What he hadn't expected, though, was a familiar golden-haired alchemist to appear around the corner. He blinked once, twice, believing for a moment that his mind was playing tricks on him. But when his comrade returned his dazed expression with a solemn smile, he rose to his feet and hurried to the front of the cell, wrapping his hands around the bars.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," Edward apologized. "But I had to wait until the coast was clear."

"I understand but… What is happening," he asked.

Edward's eyebrows raised. "You mean no one's told you?" Vato shook his head. Even when the guards had come around, they had been unusually quiet. Though, he had noted that he hadn't remembered seeing them before. Although he had spent only a short amount of time at Briggs, he was familiar with a number of faces, even though he did not know their names.

"General Armstrong has been removed from her position and has been replaced by General Hakuro. And," he added quietly, "'Mustang' killed General Raven."

"What," Falman asked with disbelief, feeling the blood drain from his cheeks.

Edward sighed and glared down at his boots. "Yeah," he confirmed. "'Mustang' killed Raven to prove a point. He said something about him no longer being needed for their plan. So," he continued, looking up at Falman again, "After he said what he did earlier, I have no doubt that his 'punishment' for you will end up being the same. So right now your only option is to escape and leave. You got the coordinates for their location, right?" When Falman nodded numbly, he added, "Then you should be able to figure out how to get to them after escaping through the tunnel."

Falman's brows arched and he looked at Edward, aghast. "You're… suggesting I escape?"

"Yes," Edward confirmed before clapping his hands together and placing them on the lock that held the cell closed. When the lock snapped and clattered to the ground, he pulled the door open and made room for Falman to step out. "If you leave tonight you'll be far enough ahead that they won't be able to catch up to you."

"But the Homunculus…"

Edward shook his head. "From the looks of it, it was burrowing toward the southeast. From my understanding Teacher and the others are in the opposite direction so you shouldn't run into it. But even if you did, it didn't seem like it was too eager to pick a fight. In all honesty you could probably sneak past it and it wouldn't even notice."

"But Edward, I can't just go. What about—"

"I'm not going to transmute the lock back together so you might as well leave," Edward said as he cut him off.

"Edward, but—"

He pushed the door open wider and turned his back on the older officer, and slowly began to walk away from the cell. "I won't argue it," he said over his shoulder. "The only option is for you to go. If the Homunculus that has taken the Colonel's body makes good on his word, you could die."

"But what about you?"

The boy stopped, and for a moment Vato thought he had finally appealed to him. But after a few moments Edward shook his head. "Nothing will happen to me. They need me as their sacrifice or whatever, so until then they can't touch me." By then he had gotten a fair distance away, and Vato was forced to follow after him. After rounding a corner after him, Edward glanced over his shoulder to make sure it was him following and, when he confirmed it was, quickened his pace.

Changing his slow canter into a jog, Vato decreased the distance between them until he was practically on Edward's heels. Before he could appeal to the young man again, the latter whipped around another corner, catching Falman off-guard. He skidded ungracefully around the corner in pursuit and picked up his pace again, falling in behind Edward as he leapt down a set of steps that led directly into the boiler room.

Vato hesitated, eyes scanning across the massive room. There was no sign of the Homunculus or General Hakuro, but… His brows creased together as he fell into thought. But… Captain Buccaneer and Major Miles were also missing, meaning that Edward was acting on his own…

A loud creak pulled Vato from his thoughts and he looked in the direction it had come from, seeing that Edward had disappeared behind a set of crates. Taking a precautionary couple of moments to survey the area and make sure that no one was watching, he ducked behind the boxes and discovered that the boy had opened what appeared to be a trap door. Seated beside him was a small bag of rations and a lantern that had been lit.

Edward nodded toward it and pointed away from them and into the hole, "If you head southwest, you should pass the area teacher and the others are hiding, right?"

Vato slowly dipped his head, recalling to himself the coordinates they had given him. He had admittedly measured the distance and had broken it down into kilometers, meters, even steps from the fort in the event that they would have to flee. But never had he imagined that he would be the only one told to go.

"You'd better hurry," Edward continued, breaking through Falman's concentrated thought. "The sooner you go, the further away you'll be when they figure out you're gone."

Vato knelt down and placed a foot on the top rung of the ladder that descended into the darkness, but paused when Edward thrust the bag and lantern into his hands. He wasn't able to argue back as Edward shook his head. "I told you that they won't do anything to me. They need me alive for something. But you," he explained as he lifted the strap of the bag and helped Vato secure it on his back, "Aren't as necessary to their plan. At least, not from what I can tell. The Homunculus told me that you would face punishment for treason even though I explained that I was the one who gave General Armstrong the information. After I saw what it did to someone it had once considered its ally, I can't imagine what it would do to you."

Vato knew that Edward was right, but the very thought that the child had stuck his neck out, knowing full well that one small misstep could possibly cost him the lives of his friends and family was deeply unsettling. That and the fact that he would be left to defend himself against the Homunculus, whose actions up until that point had been unpredictable. Even its grasp on alchemy and the Colonel's flames were still a mystery to them. There was no telling what it was completely capable of… "Edward," he contended with the youth again, "I don't feel comfortable leaving you here by yourself. If you let me stay then maybe I can—"

Edward shook his head. "You don't need to worry about me. I have Buccaneer and Miles here. And besides," he offered with a faint smile, "You need to tell teacher and the others in person what's going on here so that maybe—" He cut off when two voices could be heard approaching them. Rising to his feet, he snuck over to the crates that had hidden them and crouched beside them, peeking around the corner. Vato held his breath and strained to listen, trying to determine if he recognized them or not. But after a few moments, the voices grew duller as their owners drifted away from them.

As Vato sighed with relief, Edward hurried back and crouched down in front of him with a new sense of urgency. He gripped the tunnel's covering and lifted it a few inches off of the ground before turning to look over his shoulder again. Once he had confirmed they were still alone, he said, "You need to go now. We're like sitting ducks here." He turned the cover over and hovered it above Vato's head, forcing him to take a few steps down the rungs of the ladder. "Be sure to tell Teacher everything you know."

"Edward."

He lowered the door until it almost completely covered the hole Vato had descended into. "I'll try to contact them when I can to make sure you made it there alright."

"Edward—"

"And," Edward concluded as he offered Vato a faint smile, "Be sure to tell Teacher that I'm alright… Okay?"

Vato had opened his mouth to argue with Edward again but stopped. In that moment he could see the uncertainty and fear in Edward's eyes and he knew that whatever he said would fall on deaf ears. His stubbornness was something Vato had always been well-aware of, most of the time seeing it first-hand whenever he and the Colonel would disagree about something. But this newfound determination was something he had never seen in the boy: a resolve that was wracked with desperation. This child that stood before him, one that had grown up too soon, had taken Vato's life into his own hands and burdened himself with his safety. Both he and General Armstrong valued his life and gave him the chance to live and continue fighting alongside them. And with that in mind, how could he deny them their wishes?

He hated that it involved leaving Edward behind, especially with that monster. But he trusted him and now he asked for that same level of trust to be returned…

Vato gripped the lantern's handle tighter in his hand and made the final leg of his descent into the tunnel until his feet touched the ground below. He looked up at Edward and lifted his hand in salute. "I will, Fullmetal."

Edward raised his hand and gave a hasty salute in return. "I'll see you on the other side then," he answered as he replaced the cover completely and leaving Vato alone.

His eyes remained glued to the dark outline of the trap door that led to his egress until they had adjusted to the dim light of his lantern. With those parting words in mind, he lowered his salute, arm falling at his side, and he quietly answered, "I'll see you on the other side… Edward."

He waited for a few minutes after Edward had left, all the while fighting against the Colonel's relentless struggle for power. But when the youth had finally stopped watching the spot that led down into what Wrath assumed was the tunnel Sloth had dug and left, he finally allowed the Colonel's fight to feel somewhat fruitful for the latter, once again feeling tasting the familiar iron flavor of the blood that resulted from his struggle. Though he would not allow him to push through enough for complete control.

At last deciding that the boy would not likely return, he stepped out from behind the pillar he had sought shelter behind and crouched behind the crates it had successfully been hidden behind. Digging his hand into his pocket, he withdrew a piece of alchemic chalk and, hand shaking as the Colonel continued to fight, touched it to the ground and slowly began to draw a circle.

"I won't let you do this," the Colonel snarled, pushing against Wrath's essence.

The latter smiled, amused by the Colonel's attempt. Though he began to taste the rich iron flavor of the blood the Colonel's most recent struggles had elicited, it wasn't nearly as poignant as before. Mustang had expelled an incredible amount of energy earlier when he had confronted Fullmetal.

He ignored the Colonel and instead used his fighting to his advantage, taking hold of his recollections with relative ease.

He had to delve deep into the Colonel's memories, back to when he had been Master Hawkeye's apprentice, in order to find the right construct to use. It took him much longer to draw it out as well, having to hold onto that memory while fighting against the Colonel's attempts to thwart him. But finally, finally, he was able to draw out the complete circle. Before he would allow his host to prevent him from advancing, he gripped the alchemic power that surged through him and called upon his Gate to do its bidding. Slapping a hand on top of it, he activated the circle and watched it began to glow. A few moments later blue sparks sprung from the cement surrounding it and he watched, amazed, as tendrils of concrete rose up and began to mesh around the latch. Despite the valiant Colonel's effort at breaking his concentration, he kept his hand pressed to the ground, waiting until the cement had completely enveloped the trap door.

He sat back on his heels and looked over his work, satisfied by his first attempt at performing alchemy. During his search through the Colonel's memories, he had discovered that the man rarely used anything outside of his flame alchemy aside from when he was younger, and Wrath couldn't imagine why. It was incredibly effective.

Not wanting to dwell longer than necessary, Wrath got to his feet and gave his handiwork one final confirmatory glance before he decided he was satisfied. Turning on his heels, he stepped out from behind the crates and made his way down the nearest corridor with the nearest call center in his mind. Realizing what he was planning, Mustang lunged and writhed, trying fruitlessly to prevent Wrath from fulfilling his duty. But the Homunculus was already driven to complete it, wanting to make sure that every loose end was tied off… permanently.

When he stepped into the otherwise empty room, Wrath made a beeline for the phone furthest from the main door. He picked up the receiver and took a moment to retrieve the number from Mustang's memory upon realizing that he would have to make a call to a personal line that late at night. Once he had recalled it, he tapped the numbers in and lifted the device to his ear.

The phone rang twice before he heard a sharp 'click,' and an agitated, "Hello?"

"It's me," he muttered into the line. "Do you have a moment?"

"I do," Lust answered. "What news do you have?"

"The news of Bradley's death has traveled north. Hakuro's presence has signaled to me that the next step is about to begin. Is that correct?" She hummed in confirmation and he continued, "If that's so, I need you to do something as soon as possible for me."

"And what would that be," she inquired.

He lifted his head and stole another glance of the surrounding room. When he had determined that there would be no one there to hear, he said, "If we're looking to begin the next phase in a matter of hours, then I'm going to need you to pay a visit to the Bradley residence ASAP. I have a feeling that the task will be next to impossible the moment word of the North's predicament travels south."

"I was just about to go over and give my condolences," she replied.

"Good." Leaning back against the shelf that jutted out from the wall beneath the phone, Wrath scanned the area around him, once again trying to confirm that it was clear of any other individuals. When he determined it was, he pressed the receiver to his ear again and muttered, "I want you to tell Pride that there's vermin scurrying around in the tunnels beneath Briggs. I'll need him to dispose of it as soon as possible."

"'Vermin,'" she questioned, her tone almost eerily like the Lieutenant's. So much so, in fact, that Mustang made the effort to push back against Wrath's grip.

Pushing him away, Wrath explained, "Vato Falman has decided to seek shelter in the tunnels beneath Fort Briggs, likely seeking escape."

She was quiet for a few moments as she slowly digested the information he had given her. At that moment the Colonel decided to lunge and, catching Wrath off-guard, managed to gasp, "Lieutenant!" Immediately retaliating against Mustang's mutiny, Wrath took hold of his soul and pushed him back, but the Colonel was relentless as he struggled to break through and to the surface. "Don't let her—"

With a snarl of disgust, Wrath released his grip on the receiver and dug his nails into the skin on his face. Dragging them down, deeper and deeper until he drew blood, he gritted his teeth and continued to push back against the Colonel's soul.

"I understand," the voice on the other end of the line stated hurriedly. The Colonel paused, momentarily stopping his attempt at gaining control in order to discern who it was that had replied. "I'll be sure to inform Pride of your predicament and ensure that the proper response is implemented."

In all of his time spent housed in the Colonel's body, Wrath could not recount a more agonizing ricochet of pain. He clutched his chest and bowed forward in an effort to suppress the excruciating response. He tasted blood on his lips. On his tongue. Seeping from the commissures of his lips and the tear ducts of his eyes as the Colonel continued to struggle, fighting for an answer from the Lieutenant, and fighting for his doomed former subordinate.

"Go-od," he gasped into the receiver. "S-see to it that… it is done." Before she could answer, he slammed the receiver down on its cradle and then sank to the floor, wrapping his arms around his body as his insides violently twisted and expanded, then contracted. Pressing his head to the ground, he violently shoved Mustang back into the darkest recesses of his mind as his echoed screams filled his ears, and held him there until his will subsided.

Armed with only a lantern and the knowledge Edward had given him, Vato Falman knew that he was running on time borrowed. Every second that passed since Edward closed the trapdoor behind him meant that it would be one second closer to the moment when the Homunculus would discover his absence and possibly retaliate.

Vato quickened his pace, keeping his eyes glued to the darkness ahead of him as he listened for and counted every thud his boots made on the bedrock beneath his feet. His primary focus was to keep count of the number of steps he took until he reached the near fifty-thousand he postulated it would take to reach the coordinates relayed to him by the team situated south of the fort. Once there he would find sanctuary, and would hopefully be a better asset to their team once there—

Something out of the corner of his eye moved and he froze, whipping around to confront whatever was there. But instead of finding the massive Homunculus he believed it had been, he was greeted by absolute darkness. His brows knitted together and he took a step toward it, raising his lantern to try and shed some light on it. After advancing a few paces, however, he realized that it was no ordinary darkness. He reached up, rubbed his eyes, to try and pinpoint a singular spot so he could focus on it. But it was so black, so devoid of any light, that it took him a few moments to discern what it was. And no sooner had he figured out what it was, inky black tendrils shot out from the darkness. He barely had enough time to react, falling far enough backward that they only managed to tear through the front of his uniform.

The moment he felt his back hit the ground, he rolled onto his hands and knees and propelled himself upward, grabbing the lantern that had fallen beside him. Hearing what sounded like a burst of wind explode behind him only prompted him to run faster, knowing that the shadowy beast they had first encountered in Central was breathing down his neck. But as soon as he had hit his stride, his foot found a divot and his balance was disrupted. He plummeted toward the ground, letting go of the lantern and his rations in a decided effort to catch himself.

The darkness overtook him before he hit the ground.

Edward was sure another hour had already passed, but when he turned his eyes toward the sky he saw that the sun had not moved from its position directly above head. With an embittered moan, he kicked off the sand that had accumulated on his boots and trudged another few steps forward, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. For hours he had been wandering the Xerxian ruins, and for hours he had forced himself to endure the grueling heat to continue dredging through the mounds of sand and piles of stones in an effort to find an area of the remains he hadn't explored yet.

For some odd reason, those new areas would never come to light, and he instead found himself walking in circles. The process was the same every time. He would pick a direction he believed he had not yet traveled and would take the clearest path he could. But just when he thought he was getting somewhere, the earth beneath him would shake and he would find himself standing before the severed alchemic circle again. He had admittedly looked it over again, but still found no meaning in what it contained. Just the same double-headed dragon and five suns he had seen previously…

The urgency of whatever task he had clung to him like his sweat-drenched brow.

But at that moment, he couldn't even remember what it was he was searching for. Whatever it was, though, it was clearly important enough that he had decided to muddle through the ruins for hours on end. Reaching up, he wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. But just as he pulled it away, he stopped. Lowering it to chest level, he looked down and saw that it wasn't wet. His frown deepened.

Something wasn't right.

Turning his attention to his right hand, he pulled off his glove and stared down at the metal appendage. Despite it being excruciatingly hot, the metal support adhered to his body wasn't even lukewarm. And… now that he thought about it, he didn't even feel warm…-

The ground beneath him shuddered again and he squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself again. The tremors would only last for a few moments, he knew, but as soon as he opened his eyes he would be back in front of that damned transmutation circle again.

When they died down, he opened his eyes, confirming his location. But before he could groan in protest, something different about the scene caught his eye. His eyes snapped back over to it, and his heart stalled. Seated on the ground with her back turned to him was a familiar form, clad in black and blue.

Edward took a step toward her and lifted his arm on impulse, stopping his advance only when the glint of steel caught his eye. He tore his eyes away from the 'Lieutenant' and momentarily turned them toward his arm. He… didn't remember alchemizing it to form a blade…

Letting his arm fall to his side, he took a few cautious steps toward her, keeping his eyes glued to her back. His mind was reeling, demanding answers for why she would be there of all people. Where were Winry and Alphonse? What business did the Homunculi have with Xerxes? Were they seeking what he was as well?

With every inch he crept toward her, the tremors beneath his feet grew more and more frequent. But despite that she remained motionless, hunched over with her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. He swallowed nervously, lifting his arm again as when he was within a few feet of her. Finding his voice, he uttered, "What are you doing here?"

She tensed and he readied himself for her attack. But when she turned around, no such attack occurred. Instead, tearful violet eyes found his, and she whimpered, "Edward… Help me…"

"L… Lieutenant—" As he reached toward her, the ground began to violently shake and it threw him off-balance. Trying to find his bearings, he brought his foot down on what he believed was solid ground, only to find that it had disappeared.

And he fell.

Edward bolted out of the darkness, clawing at his chest to try and calm his pounding heart. He sucked in a deep breath, exhaled. Inhaled.

Until the darkness that had surrounded him began to recede and he found himself back in his dorm at Fort Briggs. With a heavy sigh, he squeezed his eyes shut and fell back onto his pillow, pressing his palms over his eyes as he begged his racing heart to slow.

It was just a dream, he told himself. Just a damn dream. The ruins of Xerxes provided absolutely nothing for him, and he had no reason to even be thinking about them. And the Lieutenant… She was, of course, in trouble, but… He slowly dragged his hands down his face before allowing them to slacken and fall onto either side of him. Edward opened his eyes, finding himself staring up at the gray ceiling above as he tried to slowly piece together its meaning, just as he always would after waking up in such a state.

Why would Lieutenant Hawkeye be there? As herself no less; or rather, mostly as herself. Edward narrowed his eyes, eyes flickering across the ceiling as he tried to recall why his thoughts had immediately turned to doubting what he had seen in his dream.

It had been like before when he first confronted 'Mustang' and 'Hawkeye' in the Colonel's office. The voice and desperation in her eyes had clearly been the Lieutenant's, but the color matched that of Lust's. He reached up and raked his fingers through his unkempt hair, trying to understand why he had even dreamt it in the first place. Why the earth continued to shake every time he ventured too far. Why he kept coming back to the ruins of that transmutation circle. And why the Lieutenant had appeared the way she did…

He groaned and fell back onto his mattress. His dreams had been nothing but night terrors until that point, but now that a different vision had popped into his head, he found that he couldn't even begin to make heads or tails of it. Something in his head was telling him that it was important, but he hadn't the faintest idea what it could be. Edward closed his eyes, resigning himself to another night of lost sleep where he would analyze what he had envisioned. But before he could get comfortable again, a soft wail originating outside his dorm room caught his attention.

He wrinkled his brow and strained to listen, only for it to grow louder. Determining that it must not have been an effect of the dream he had had, he sat up again and swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting them on the cold cement floor. Just as he had begun to make his way toward the light switch, the ground beneath him shook and he lost his footing. Stumbling forward, he slapped a hand against the wall and steadied himself as the rumble died. Before he moved another briefly followed and subsided, and he knew that it wasn't a natural occurrence.

The wail of another siren, this time much closer, confirmed it for him. Something was happening in the fort below, and from what he had gathered in those few moments he was awake, it was something devastating.

Edward had been right in believing that something major was happening outside of the fort, but what it was, he did not immediately know. Whenever he stopped to grab the attention of one of the frantic Briggs soldiers that rushed past him, he was swiftly shoved out of their way. He had readied himself to grab hold of one of them and demand a hurried explanation but stopped when he heard a familiar voice call out his title.

Edward whirled around and watched Major Miles push himself through the turmult throng of soldiers that separated them. As the latter hopped out from the bustling crowd, Edward yelled, "Where's Mustang?!"

"'Mustang,'" the Major called over the noise. "I haven't seen him. But he's not important right now. I need you to go back to your room until this is over-"

"What's happening," Edward demanded, ignoring the other Major's order. "What's going on?"

"Drachma," Miles answered loudly. "They attacked when we were changing shifts. They—" He stopped and jerked his head around as a soldier rushed over to him and began to beg for orders, exclaiming that Hakuro's were running them in circles. When he began to bark them back, Edward grasped the opportunity and dipped around them, ignoring his order to stop.

Though he had hardly spoken to the Major, he had heard enough to at least gather what was happening. He had mentioned that Drachma had carried out an attack when they were switching guards, and that was enough to set off alarm bells in Edward's mind. But the deciding factor for his rash decision was that soldier who was begging for orders. It was too convenient for Drachma to not only deliver a surprise blow to Briggs during a brief moment of weakness, and even more so for them to implement it the very day Briggs was placed under the command of a new General. It was too perfect, and Edward could not help but believe that it was planned.

It made sense after all, he theorized as he ducked beneath a tank shell being totted around by two soldiers and continued to run, as to how this could be happening. As to why, he was not sure, though he couldn't help but think that the Homunculus had some part in it. He dove behind a pile of crates when he saw Major Miles approaching, managing to avoid the soldier's frantic search for him.

Another blast shook the fort and Edward braced himself against the boxes, eyes scanning the part of the room he could see from behind them in search of the familiar navy uniform that Mustang usually wore. He was about to dip behind the boxes again when his first search proved unsuccessful, but he stopped midway through his second hunt, zeroing in on a flash of blue that disappeared down a flight of stairs he knew led down into the cement tunnels that ran along the bottom of the fort. Edward stole another glance around and saw that Miles had vanished and, deciding that he did not have another moment to waste, dashed out from behind the crates and sprinted toward the spot he had seen the vision of blue vanish.

He successfully wove himself through the myriad of soldiers that were delivering supplies and making their way to their stations and quickly found himself standing at the top of the steps, staring down into a vast expanse of black. Edward took a moment to steel himself and sucked in a deep breath, but just before he began to descend the stairs, he hesitated, realizing that the darkness had changed and had almost seemed to grow lighter. He squinted and confirmed that what he was seeing was what he had deduced. It had definitely grown brighter. But rather than a focal spot of light from a lantern or a flame, it seemed as though it were radiating from a much larger source.

Another tremble tore through the fort. He reached out and grabbed the railing to prevent himself from stumbling. By then his eyes had adjusted, making the light appear even brighter. And even stranger, he almost thought he could feel a light wisp of wind travel up through the tunnel, eliciting a shiver from him.

He knew that the longer he stood and speculated, the more of a chance there was that whoever, or whatever, had disappeared down there would be too far gone for him to pursue. With that in mind, he took a moment to look around to be sure that he would not be followed. When he confirmed that neither Miles nor Buccaneer were there, he turned back to the tunnel and exhaled before he bounded down the stairs.

It only took him a couple of turns down a few corridors before Edward came upon a room. From the looks of it, it appeared to be a storage room for an assortment of items for the men stationed there, though he wasn't sure. Because his focus immediately after his brief observation fell upon the massive hole that appeared to have been blown in the wall, allowing the brutal northern air from outside to pool into the room.

Edward rushed forward and stopped in front of it, peering out into the wintery darkness. It didn't take him long to make out a number of dark shapes in the distance; what he believed to be Drachman tanks and soldiers. He knew that if he didn't seal the hole, it was entirely possible that they would discover it and infiltrate the fort if things went south. With that thought in his mind, he leapt over to the side of the hole and clapped his hands together, preparing himself to use what remained of the cement to temporarily cover it before he would work to make it sturdier. He stopped, however, when he saw what clearly were transmutation markings along its edges. Edward reached out, about to brush his fingers over them when a blast of heat encompassed him and forced him to jump away from the wall. He whirled around and raised his fists to his face as the Homunculus stepped into the room, its hand elevated and poised to snap.

Edward stood his ground and narrowed his eyes, watching as the Homunculus paced forward and stopped on the other side of the flame wall it had constructed between them. "So it was you," he snarled as a smirk graced its face. "You're the one who started all of this."

The Homunculus arched a brow. "I'll admit that that handiwork over there was my doing, though I can't take credit for what is happening at this moment."

"Why is Drachma attacking Briggs," Edward demanded.

'Mustang' sneered. "Telling you would take all of the fun out of it, Fullmetal."

It crept closer and Edward backpedaled until he could feel the fire behind him licking at his back. Remembering that he had activated his alchemy, he pressed his flesh hand to his metal arm, produced a blade and took a fighting stance. "Then tell me," he snarled, "How is it that you're able to perform alchemy?"

The Homunculus's brows lifted, genuinely surprised. "I thought you had already figured it out, Edward. The Colonel has graciously decided to share his Gate and all of his secrets about alchemy with me. After that," he said as he snapped his fingers, producing a small flame, "It was a rather steep learning curve."

Edward's heart stalled. "So wait. You mean that the Colonel…" No. It had to be lying. The Colonel would never feebly hand over his Gate or secrets like that. It wasn't true… It couldn't be—

"I suppose you could say that it was forced from him if that will help you sleep at night. But that's enough about him," it declared as it took a step toward Edward. "What I want is for you to step aside. Interference will not be tolerated."

Edward defied his order and lifted his blade. "You're not going to take another step further. Not when I have anything to say about it," he snarled. "Not when the lives of everyone here are at stake!"

The Homunculus stopped its advance and lifted its brows. "I should have known that what you said yesterday was an act of defiance. But I suppose there's nothing I can do," it decreed as it drew its saber from its sheath and pointed it toward Edward. "But now, I won't make that same mistake again."

"I'm giving you one more chance to back down," Edward warned, taking a step back when it took one forward. "You can still stop this!"

Seeing his hesitance, the Homunculus continued its advance toward him. "It's too late for that, Fullmetal. What is happening here is something I can no longer control. Fort Briggs will fall and every soldier stationed here along with it. The only thing that I can change is the number of casualties. If you fight alongside me, your brother and your precious childhood friend will remain safe. But if you don't, they too will meet an untimely demise. That much I can guarantee. So what will it be, Fullmetal? The clock is ticking…"

Edward took another set of steps away and stopped when he felt the flames licking against his back. He would become a pawn for them one hundred times over, but when more lives were at stake he… He just couldn't. He stole a glance toward the demolished wall behind him, remembering its size. If he could seal it, then Drachma's chances for infiltrating the fort would be stalled, and countless lives would be saved.

But if he made a move to do so and the Homunculus won, then Alphonse and Winry…

Edward shook the thoughts from his head. He had faced Mustang's flames before. He knew to a certain extent what he was facing. If he could reduce the number of lives that would be lost and subdue the Homunculus like they had Gluttony, then he could reach out to his brother and Winry.

He would save them.

He would fight.

As though it understood his intentions, the Homunculus closed its eyes and tightened its grip on its blade. "Very well, Fullmetal. Your insubordination will be your ultimate downfall. So them," it growled, opening its eyes to reveal a red Ouroboros in its left, "Be prepared to answer to my wrath."

Next chapter (aka 'the second-to-worst' scene):

"You idiot! Why… Why didn't you move," Edward gasped as blood continued to pour from the wound that penetrated the Colonel's chest.

Mustang coughed up the blood and phlegm that had accumulated in his mouth and reached up, grasping the arm connected to the blade that had pierced his heart. And then, despite everything else, a frail smile formed on his lips. "I'm sorry, Fullmetal," he whispered as his eyes fluttered closed. "But... Thank you…"