"I discovered it only months ago, actually. A low-level alchemist joined my team, only to get caught in the energy field of one of our experiments. The resulting Stone was only able to last a few uses, but it proved far more powerful even with his measly ability. Since then I have only used a few ordinary people at a time in order to refine the creation of the stones themselves.

"The ability to control alchemic reactions carries over as one's life force is used in a Philosopher's Stone, it appears. Such use of alchemists was avoided until now because of the need for them to engineer the transmutation. No longer. Only a handful will be necessary, while the rest will fuel the most powerful substance in existence!"

"Just when I thought they couldn't come any crazier," Edward quipped to Angel. "Pull your dad back, out of the circle." He clapped his hands together and pushed a wall up out of the floor some distance back. Then he addressed the researcher. "How exactly do you plan on forcing us to be ingredients? We're not your captives now."

"I think you underestimate my capabilities."

"And you underestimate ours," countered Angel, reappearing next to Edward. She looked scared but determined.

"You know, these people you're so determined to impress already consider me a valuable resource," Edward taunted. "I wonder how happy they would really be to find out you used it up without their knowledge or permission."

So fast neither of them could catch it, the researcher drew a small transmutation circle and activated it. He pulled a whiplike iron form from the ground.

"Get back, Angel. You shouldn't be in this fight," growled Edward, bracing himself.

"We need everything we have," Angel protested. "Dad's safe back there."

"You're not prepared for a face-on battle, even with your abilities. I don't like unnecessary risk."

"That's what you'd call this?"

Before either could say any more, however, the iron whip snapped around Edward's neck. He transmuted his automail plating into a blade, but the iron was too strong.

A beam of light shot out, wrapping clumsily around the whip, and severed it. Edward yanked the lifeless metal end from his throat, coughing.

"Most impressive," congratulated the researcher. "I admire your ingenuity, girl. Pity it won't save you in the end." With a flick, he drove the end of the whip into the ground, and put his hand to the circle once more. When he pulled it back out, the whip had recovered its full length. This time the last foot or so had barbs on it. They flashed toward Angel.

CLANG—RIIP!

Edward blocked the blow, which left his entire right sleeve in tatters. Blood appeared where the barbs had nicked the skin at the edge of his automail.

"You can't keep this up forever!" crowed the researcher. Then the entire room went shimmery. "What?"

"Not so easy when your target is masked, huh?" Angel shouted so her voice echoed. Already, though, she felt the strain of manipulating all the light in the room. Furthermore, the researcher began to simply strike blindly into the giant mirage. The whip swung right over their heads. "We have to get out of here, now. Can you handle my dad until we don't need this cover anymore?"

Edward flexed his shoulder, wincing. "Yeah. Go in a zigzag pattern, to keep him from fixing on blocks of color."

"Right."

They split up to further mask their movements. Angel dodged this way and that while always heading for the door. To her right, Edward seemed to be making decent pace with Proctor. She just wanted this nightmare to be over.

CRASH!

"Ahh!"

Rubble rained down on them—the whip had broken through Edward's wall. Angel's hold on the light faltered as she tried to protect her head. A large stone skittered in front of her, and she tripped. The mirage disappeared.

Edward and Proctor had both been hit, but didn't look critically injured. The researcher bore down on them.

"I told you it wouldn't work in the end," he crowed again. When Edward slapped his hands together, the barbed whip shot out, pinning him to the ground through his right shoulder. He screamed.

"No!" Angel screamed with him. She scrambled up despite blood dripping into her own eyes from falling. Bolts of light flew wildly as she tried to sever the whip again. But once she succeeded, the remaining length came after her.

Chunk—chunk—chunk!

It took all the speed she could muster to stay ahead of the whip, which stabbed into the ground.

Vwooom.

A large, fisted protrusion suddenly tangled itself with the whip. Edward had still gotten his hands to the ground, teeth gritted in pain. Blood seeped around the piece of transmuted stone still in his shoulder.

"Don't—touch it," he commanded as Angel finally reached him. His right arm moved in odd jerks. "If we take it out now, I could bleed to death, and besides…I think it went right between my automail and the flesh it's mounted on. Winry's gonna kill me…" An agonized groan escaped him.

"Let's get out of here first, and then we'll worry about people killing you over automail repairs," said Angel.

SMASH!

Edward's stone arm collapsed in a heap of rubble, pulverized by the researcher's whip. They were showered a second time with jagged rocks.

Angel was stunned. "How could he…? I thought they were the same."

"Depends on how he reconstructed the carbon and iron," growled Edward. "That's the advantage of using the ground itself."

"I tire of this little game; it's time you gave in to your fate, young alchemists," the researcher called through the dust. The whip appeared, scooping all three of them back to the human transmutation circle in the center. Edward cried out as the end barbs of the piece in his shoulder dislodged from the floor. Taking a moment to gather her concentration this time, Angel methodically bent the light around them to cut the whip into pieces.

"Well, you're a stubborn one," quipped the researcher. "I suppose I'll have to incapacitate you as well, and hope you don't die before I'm finished. Such a shame for one so pretty." He scraped the broken end of his whip against the ground until it made a lethal point, and shot it toward Angel.

"No!" Shunk.

Proctor went rigid in front of her, stabbed through the chest by the attack meant for her.

"Noooooo!" Angel's shriek echoed. Her father was yanked forward a couple of feet as the researcher retrieved his weapon.

CRASH!

An explosion from behind took everyone by surprise. Alphonse charged through the mess, straight at the researcher, with his hands in position to fight. "Let them go!" his hollow voice thundered. He barreled right into the man, knocking him unconscious.

"Al!" Edward called hoarsely.

"Soldiers from Carnival are right behind me," the armor-bodied boy explained. Even now they could hear sharp voices from the hallways. "They'll take care of the situation until Colonel Mustang can get here. Are you okay?"

"Help him first."

Proctor was gasping and bleeding out in Angel's arms.

"Why? Why couldn't you have shown you cared earlier?" Angel yelled, but as if she were being strangled.

"Well," the frail man coughed," I was hoping it wouldn't have to be so dramatically cliché…but I didn't see much choice in the moment." He shuddered and hacked. Blood flecked on Angel's face, dribbled from the corner of Proctor's mouth. "Seeing the both of you fight…and more importantly, help people…what you have is truly a gift. After you left…it almost felt as if…your mother had left all over again. Please forgive…a dying old fool."

Angel's tears rolled across Proctor's spasming face. As his movements quieted, her sobs intensified. "Why though? Why couldn't this have happened sooner? I wanted, waited for acceptance for so long…"

"I'm sorry," whispered Edward, who had stumbled agonizingly to them to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Brother, you're hurt!" squeaked Alphonse, catching sight of the spiky, bloody stone protruding from Edward's own shoulder.

"Yeah, and it probably ruined my whole arm," Edward groaned. "He got me right where the base is attached. I don't know what to do this time. Can we even get to the wound if it's under the automail?"

"But we can't just leave you like this! You'll…you'll…!"

"I-I know a guy," stammered Angel. Both boys stared at her. "I mean, I know he's not your mechanic, you'll probably still need to call her. But he's a doctor who specializes in medicine concerning automail. He might be able to help."

"It's worth a shot, definitely," agreed Edward. He took one step and fell to his knees.

"Brother!" Alphonse exclaimed.

"Damn, I must be worse off than I thought—" His musings were cut off by a yowl of pain as Alphonse lifted him.

"I can carry you. Angel, how far is this guy?"

"Just on the edge of town. You can't miss the gaudy automail sign." She took a deep breath. "If…if it's okay, I'm going to stay here until the military has everything secured." Her grip on her father's lifeless body tightened.

"Sure. You'll meet us at this guy's place later?"

"Yeah."

"Come on, Brother. It sure does take a lot to keep you in one piece."

"You should talk…" Edward griped back at him until their voices faded away in the surrounding laboratory.