Excuse my dark mind. I'm not actually this messed up, I'm just writing what I think he'd say.

Chapter 3 (Kimblee)

How I love pain.

Making others suffer.

Beauty is in death, after all. For without dissonance, there can be no beauty.

My actions are justified. The Greek's reasons for war are just following the law of Equivalent Exchange. They are getting what they deserve: death. For kidnapping the king's princess, the fairest woman in the world. They indeed deserve nothing less.

And truly, nothing is more gratifying than the rush of death. Dying, killing, even watching death make its grasp; it is perfect. Divine.

And second, nothing is truly more absolute than Death. Not life, though that can be argued. Not God, nor Hell.

Not even the passage of time. As we have seen, it has been breached, by some unfamiliar force. Perhaps the mysterious arts practiced on the Bottom of the world.

We know that Alchemy gets its power from the tectonic plates that compose the Earth's crust. These plates constantly grind back and forth past one another. When they get stuck, pressure builds up and is eventually released in the form of an earthquake: beautiful, brutal waves in rock that wipe the earth of human achievement. There is enormous power in these plates, power which remains untapped to its full potential. It is also bound by reality.

We also know that Xingese Alkahestry derives its power from what they call the Dragon's Pulse, a concept in which life-energy that flows through the Earth and everything. It is mainly used for medicinal purposes (increasing the life flow of the Earth through a singular human being), but is not limited to such purposes. It is difficult to convert for warfare, though. I believe that Scar's brother found a proper balance between the two known sciences. Too bad I killed him.

My theory is that the Sciences at the Bottom of the World take their power from below the crust. We as humans rarely are exposed to this but through the awesome force of volcanoes. They, I believe, are the Earth's cooling mechanisms. The energy they hold is infinitely greater than the tectonic plates. They possess the ability to melt rock.

That is why the third and final of the Metaphysical Science is the most powerful of all of them. It is a power incomprehensible.

For it has the ability to bend time and space.

I was walking through the streets, reminiscing Ishval. This was to a greater extent, though. It is… rapture. I am lifted from my mortal body and mind, my soul detached when I kill. This is my home, where I belong. I am a killer, nothing more. My soul purpose is to end others, I have decided.

And this was the best time I've ever had doing it.

I was not born a killer, mind you. I was born on a plantation, a long time ago. The plantation was in the very south of Amestris, where the great forests dominate and dirt paths meander through the mountains. Truly a beautiful country. When I finally die, I wish for my body to be buried there. I was taught my manners and my prayers from my parents, and was taught to respect our slaves but punish them if they did wrong. I would go and play on the cotton terraces in the mountains surrounding our manor after my daily lessons. Sundays we would go to church on the plantation.

I was an avid learner. Quick to proficiency, I've been told. Eventually my love for parents and respect for slaves transformed. I was disdainful of authority, religion. Soon, my beliefs were mainly nihilistic. I spent time alone, contemplating in the jungles. Occasionally, I would experiment on animals. The thrill of science. Seeing how much force should be exerted to rip a cat in two or better yet, how long must a bird starve before it dies.

This wicked thirst led me to the dank corners of vast wine cellars, where I discovered books about a mysterious new science that I hadn't heard of before: alchemy.

This book that I discovered led to a new, black world of discovery. Nearly infinite paths to make, now.

I was very quiet about nihil, alchemy, and potential insanity with my parents.

I left the house for university a few years later. Halfway through my third year, I decided to join the military as a State Alchemist. And the story from there is old news.

As I walked through the burning slums, I occasionally saw someone who I pitied, so I had to put them out of their misery before they could suffer any longer. To some people who prayed I would doff my hat and applaud their futile but stubborn attempts to prolong their life. It was laughable, so I would blow the book or tablet or whatever they were praying with to hell. I would laugh maniacally and walk away. It was a long while of this, along with crushing families with buildings, detonating containers of hot oil, the like.

I came across Ling jumping out of a crumbling building's second-story window. He was covered in blood and had a cut on his left arm.

"Kimblee." His voice was lower, more gruff.

I tipped my hat. "Greed."

It wasn't really a surprise that he was back. While Dwarf in the Flask-Father-had created Greed from his body, his soul was still its own entity, too weak to fuse with a body of its own. So when Greed had gone back to Father, he wasn't completely destroyed. A small part of his soul remained within Ling, whose subconscious was no longer a swirling turmoil as his Philosopher's Stone had been taken out. In the time it had been since Father's passing, Greed's original "body" had remained within Ling's, gathering strength. In Ling's weak mental state after all the stresses of being the emperor of Xing, coupled with his lack of thought due to the mindless destruction occurring, Greed was able to take over.

He took off in maniacal laughter. In a moment he was gone. So I went back to my hobby. And thought no more of him for the rest of the night.