Selim was in the vortex again. Alright, it wasn't really a vortex, at least not like the one from his memories as Pride; not the one he knew. It was where the vortex of souls should be, but wasn't. It wasn't a void or some sort of empty space; no, everything still rushed around him in a jumble of strange colors and feelings, each impossible to separate from the next, but what made it strange was the fact that it was all his own emotions and visions, no one else's. He no longer had souls in his stone, he thought to himself, so of course the vortex would be different. Now it seemed so empty, and yet amazingly full in a completely different way than it had ever felt before. It also seemed just as confusing and unorganized as ever.

He almost wished that his personality was split into Selim and Pride again so he could at least have someone else to talk to about this mess. He didn't even know where to start to begin to sort through it all, and he found himself both confused and overwhelmed to realize that everything around him came from him. Even the human part of him almost longed for his days as a homunculus at that point. At least as Pride he hadn't ever had to worry about anything even remotely close to this. Stupid human emotions that he shouldn't even be feeling….

And that brought up another point. Why did he feel this way? According to everything he had learned and remembered, he hadn't physically changed all that much, so he technically shouldn't be able to have these kinds of feelings at all. So why could he? Was it because of how he had been raised this time around? He was sure that had something to do with him being able to recognize the different emotions but it didn't explain why he could feel all of this now when he'd never had such problems as Pride. Why could he experience such disgusting things as friendship and love and trust...? And even more, why did part of him enjoy them?

Was it adaptation? A sort of defense mechanism? Perhaps because he'd had to live like a human his mental state had changed to be more human-like? No, that didn't make sense. He couldn't affect changes like that without souls in his stone consciously or subconsciously. Then did it have something to do with the makeup of his true form? Could it be because his original form had been based off of a human body? If he couldn't live off of the energy of the philosopher's stone, would the normal human-like tendencies kick in as a backup function?

That sounded far more plausible. Having a backup plan, even one as annoying as this, sounded like something his father would do. He mentally sighed. If that were the case, then until he replenished his stone, he would be stuck like this—living and feeding and feeling like a human, indefinitely.

Part of him found that disgusting, but he was so used to living and acting and being a human that his acceptance of this state seemed to overrule any serious revulsion he felt. If this was something his father had built into him so he could survive, well he could live with that. And he would survive, not just because his father would want him to but because he wanted to. He finally had a life to live—a life all his own. That was something Pride had never had, and he liked the idea of having gained it. He was proud of the fact that he could do it—that he could live a life of his own that wasn't connected to Father. He was proud of this little bit of responsibility that he'd never really been jealous of before, but that he found he did not want to give up now. Perhaps this was one of the many aspects about humans that Envy had been so jealous of: the fact that while humans may be disgusting and horrible creatures, they had the freedom to be so.

And now, so did Selim.

It was a good feeling…and it was something he found he could treasure, human or not.

He'd finally admitted how he cared about those close to him. Yes, he had only done so to himself, but he'd actually faced the truth and while part of him still found it disgusting, if it were something that was a part of him—something that was supposed to be a part of him—he would make the best of it. He could accept it, albeit hesitantly and he certainly wouldn't be happy about being reduced to an inferior state of being, but he could do it because he was the homunculus Pride and nothing any human, even Edward Elric, could do to him would ever get him to admit defeat. He was also the human, Selim Baker, and he had people and dreams to live for and protect.

He was both—and for the first time, he found he could accept that.

No one else in the room noticed Selim's somewhat troubled face relax into a peaceful blankness that few had ever or would ever see on the homunculus' face—even in sleep—and the slightest smile touch his lips.

xXx

Brigadier General Roy Mustang loathed fighting rebellion and terrorist groups more than almost anything else. He always had, mainly because they always seemed to find new, desperate ways to be nasty. Especially alchemists. He'd hated the Ishvalan war, but at least he and his fellow soldiers hadn't had to go in and fight other alchemists that had invented new ways of causing pain.

Sure, the military attracted its own kind of crazy (Kimbly and Grande being two very obvious examples of that), but alchemy was such a broad science with so many undiscovered and forgotten branches that anyone with a little time on their hands, half a brain and some alchemic talent could be a potential threat.

As these FFO alchemists were proving.

Really, it was kind of mind-blowing as to what could be turned into a bomb under the right circumstances, and just how many types of bombs could be made. At least they weren't using humans like Kimbly used to. It was a small blessing, but at the moment, Roy would take what he could get.

He and the main group of his men crouched behind doors and corners as best they could, trying everything they could to reach the enemy at the other side. Where was the backup? He'd given orders for men to follow. Something had to have happened to stall them this long. Taking back the hotel with the number of men he had at the moment would be time-consuming and extremely dangerous. They'd come in here with the understanding that the rest of their forces would be on their way, otherwise he wouldn't have rushed in. (He mentally attributed his rash action to the fact that Fullmetal had come back and had somehow rubbed off onto him.)

With all of the stairwells, working elevators (and how had that happened when they'd cut off the power supply at least a day before?) and hallways, not to mention rooms to hide in, he simply didn't have enough men to entirely secure more than a single floor, let alone the entire building.

Despite knowing this, Roy did not give the order to back down. He refused to allow Clemin to get away again. The man was power-hungry, knowledgeable and crazy, not to mention he had a decent amount of charisma and knew where to look to find scarily dedicated followers. Allowing him to leave was simply too dangerous for anyone and everyone within the country (and perhaps even the surrounding countries). They had to finish this, and they had to win.

Ever since he'd lost his eyesight, Roy had really lost his enthusiasm for using alchemy. He'd finally seen and understood the consequences of misusing such a power, and he had done so before, even if only in small ways or under orders. It made him sick to think about so he avoided doing so, and thus avoided using his alchemy. That didn't mean he couldn't, nor did it mean that he allowed himself to fall out of practice. If his forces had somehow been cut off, then Roy knew he would have to stop holding back.

"Lieutenant," he said, just loud enough to be heard over the gun shots.

"Sir!" Hawkeye said, never taking her eyes off of her mark and continuing to shoot.

"We're changing to plan B. Clemin either leaves this building in custody or not at all."

"Sir!" she acknowledged then turned to instruct her men. Roy pulled out his gloves.

This would end today.

xXx

"Selim!"

Something was shaking him, pulling him back, very reluctantly, from the black void of sleep he'd fallen into what felt like just moments before.

"Selim!" Who was that? Mandy? "Selim, wake up!"

"They're just outside the door," Mrs. Browbeat said just loudly enough for everyone to hear as Marlin let out a string of cusswords from below. Selim forced himself to listen harder and realized that a lot of those shots from earlier were much louder than they had been before.

"Get down here!" Bonnie ordered from the room below. "The fight must have moved up there, because we're not hearing anyone down here."

"Johan, you first," Mrs. Browbeat said firmly. Selim was still having difficulty even opening his eyes. Just how badly did he need to rest still? He managed to pry his eyelids apart and looked up at Mandy's worried face.

"What's going on?" he asked, noting how slurred his voice had come out. His brain didn't seem to want to function correctly either. Everything felt slow and heavy. Was this a dream? Somehow he didn't think so, although it all felt that way.

"Come on," Mandy said urgently, pulling at his arm. "We have to go! This may be our only chance to get out of here for a while—or at all. Hurry!"

Selim forced his limbs to move. He'd only just managed to sit up when an explosion rocked the building. Johan, who had been about to sit at the edge of the hole, rocked forward with a yelp and fell through it instead. He managed to throw his arms over the opposite side of the hole as he went down (it wasn't a very large opening, after all), but either due to his lack of fitness or his state of mind, he couldn't even hold on long enough for his mother to reach him, and she had instantly rushed forward with a shriek.

Unfortunately, that shriek was loud enough for whoever was shooting just outside the door to notice.

"Did you hear that?" a muffled voice asked all too clearly.

"Yeah!" And then the door handle was seemingly under attack. Somehow, to Selim's still groggy mind, this all seemed familiar. Had he dreamed something like this? Or had something similar really happened in the recent past? He couldn't seem to figure it out.

"GO!" Mandy said to Mrs. Browbeat, rushing up behind the older woman who dropped through the hole and out of sight. Selim managed to stagger into an upright position, forcing his body to wake up. It was responding slowly, like an engine that had yet to heat up enough to really move. He frowned, realizing that he didn't normally have these kinds of problems waking up. Something was really wrong here…

The door burst open just as Selim stumbled towards the hole.

"FREEZE!" one of the men said and shot at Selim, who couldn't make his body react quickly enough to dodge. He felt hot agony shoot through his arm and cursed mentally. He'd only just healed his shoulders!

The pain caused him to stumble and he couldn't seem to keep his eyes open. The world was going black and he could only think that this wouldn't have happened if he hadn't allowed himself to fall asleep—if he hadn't trusted the humans.

"Selim!" he heard Mandy scream and saw her lunge towards him out of the corner of his eye.

The man from before yelling: "I said FREEZE!" was the last thing Selim heard before blackness took him.

xXx

Today was not a good day for the FFO, Clemin realized as he stared out the window to the suite that had become their base. It was his own fault, really. The idea of taking family members of Amestris' upper echelons hostage had not been his idea originally, but it had been one that had appealed to him, and thus he had allowed his small group of rebels to throw themselves into this.

In retrospect, he really should have realized that while having a strong hold in New Optain was an appealing idea, it really wasn't plausible with the resources at his command. What had he been thinking? Then again, it seemed harder to think things through lately. Briefly, he wondered why. Was it because of the betrayal of the homunculi so long ago, resulting in his soul being torn from his body when he should have been one of those who received the souls instead? Or perhaps it was because of the military's crushing defeat on that same day. Or perhaps the many years of seeing nothing but the inside of a cell, having nothing to think of except that he should be so much more than a prisoner—than a human even—had been the cause.

Whatever the reason, he'd found himself reduced to working outside of the law once he'd managed to escape; of bringing lowly rebels to his side and using them instead of the military. It was humiliating and demeaning and he hated it! But he would do whatever he had to do so as to get his revenge. And he would get revenge on the people who had caused his downfall! On the Armstrongs and Mustang and the Elrics and most of all, the back-stabbing homunculi! If he'd been able to bring the entire country under his command in the process, then so much the better!

He'd had so many plans…and now they vanished before his eyes and all of his hard work had gone to waste. He didn't see a way out of this that wouldn't lead to his death or imprisonment (of which he doubted he could escape the next time).

Really, what had he been thinking?

He didn't allow himself to sigh. Instead he continued to stare out the window at the city that had once been his for the taking.

Behind his back, his hands clenched more tightly into fists. It should be his! He deserved it! He had worked for it! The nation—no, the world should be his! And yet it wasn't… and now it didn't look like it ever would be thanks to too many of his careful plans going awry.

The hostages had escaped. All of them. That had been a large blow to this set-up, but what was worse was how they'd escaped. The men had described it as if the shadows had come alive. Which made absolutely no sense at all whatsoever. Why had the homunculus brat come and tried to rescue the humans? He hadn't even come after Clemin (and he would have expected revenge to be first on the monster's list), so what did he want? Had he somehow struck a deal with the military? He'd rescue the hostages and they'd allow him to live? He hadn't thought Mustang to be either that stupid or that naïve, but it was the only plausible explanation he could come up with. Surely the thing would not have acted on his own to rescue people? He could not seem to merge the idea of the monster he'd known and a caring human being together at all. It just wasn't conceivable that he would have feelings for even his supposed friend.

It was a conundrum that did not make Clemin feel comfortable at all. Still, he had little doubt the brat had fled. There would have been a confrontation otherwise because the boy had too much pride to actually finish Clemin off quietly, no matter how intelligent that would have been.

He had long ago tuned out the screaming and yelling over the radio as his forces were attacked and beaten back by one General Mustang. And how had they gotten into the hotel even? This may not have been the brightest idea ever, but at least he'd made sure to secure the building. It had been air tight! He did sigh this time. There had to be something his people had missed. If they got out of this alive, they would be punished. Severely.

That, of course, just reminded him of how he doubted they would get out of this alive. However, he still had some backup means for his revenge in place. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to lead and control Amestris, but he could at least take the lives of the people he hated. He still had a trick or two up his sleeve and if he could use them, they would make for acceptable consolation prizes.

The sound of the door opening behind him didn't draw his attention away from the window. If his forces were there then he had little to worry about. If the people belonged to Mustang than his fate was basically sealed and any actions he took would make little difference.

"Commander!" It was the breathy voice of one of his underlings. So the opposing forces had not reached him yet. How disappointing. He was looking forward to seeing the look on that upstart alchemist's face when he realized what the FFO leader had in store for him. Even if it meant Clemin's death, that expression would be so sweet. Now if only he could have somehow arranged something for Armstrong that would get past her defenses, or if he could have found that blasted homunculus…

"Don't you dare touch me!" the loud voice of an unfamiliar girl startled him out of his thoughts.

"Sir, you may want to look at this."

Trying to suppress his surprise and curiosity, he turned to face the small, ragged group of people who had just entered the room. A young, dark-haired woman in a blue military uniform was being led into the room with her hands on her head. She looked livid, glaring at the men around her and Clemin with equal animosity. She had several weapons turned on her, but judging from how she eyed the man holding a gun to the other hostage's head, the former General didn't think the firearms pointed at her were what had convinced her to go along with her captors.

It was the second hostage that really surprised Clemin. Two men held the limp body of an obviously unconscious teenager between them. His dead weight dragged them down and they seemed barely able to hold his body even partially up in their exhaustion. It was undoubtedly the reason why the one who had previously addressed their leader sounded so out of breath.

Clemin couldn't see his face, but he knew almost instantly who had been brought before him. The boy's chin fell down to rest on his chest, leaving the top of his head visible to the FFO leader. Through the short hair, he could just make out the markings of a tattoo he knew all too well.

At first he could only blink in surprise. Just what as the monster here again? And then he couldn't help the large, albeit somewhat insane grin that broke out on his face.

What luck! That was, if this wasn't some sort of trap…

"He's unconscious, sir. We couldn't wake him. I'm afraid we'll have to wait for him to regain consciousness if you wish to speak with him. I doubt it would be worth the effort, though. Should I just shoot him, sir?"

Clemin felt his grin grow wider as he approached them and put a hand on the boy's head, pushing it back so he could see the other's face. The little monster didn't so much as finch. Even he couldn't be that good of an actor. No, he was unconscious for some reason. But why? He would think on that later and not look a gift horse in the mouth right now.

"No."

A few of the men looked confused at his pronouncement. Waiting for him to awaken would make their situation more difficult. They had a hostage in the girl, they wouldn't need the unconscious boy (who may need medical attention) to bargain.

"With all due respect, sir, why?" A woman from the back spoke up. Clemin immediately committed her face to memory both as a courageous person who could speak her mind and as a possible future threat. Anyone willing to question their orders was a potential threat.

"Because," he said as he studied the young features on the relaxed face, "we will be overpowered today. We have failed, and I do not take failure lightly. However, while killing him would almost make this fact worth it, having him know it was my men who outwitted and captured him…that would make this day our victory."

"But why, sir?" the same woman asked. "He isn't even part of the government. How can he be that important?"

As patiently as ever, Clemin answered that question too.

"He may look young, but this boy had a very large hand in what happened before and during the coup." Clemin brought his hand up to grip the boy's jaw tightly. He either didn't see or didn't notice the disbelieving (some outright worried) looks his subordinates were shooting at him or each other.

"Leave him alone!" the girl's angry shout drew Clemin's attention away from his examination.

Dropping the monster's head and allowing it to fall back onto his chest, the former General approached the girl.

"And just who might you be?"

She glared up at him defiantly. "Major Mandy Redfern, serial number 113B429."

"Major? Aren't you a little young to be a major?" Clemin asked, studying her for a moment. Then he smiled. "You're an alchemist, aren't you?" She didn't answer, but he didn't need her to.

"Oh, this will make for the most perfect bait. Of course Flame will come to rescue his subordinate. Perhaps I am luckier today than I realized."

"The General will defeat you," Major Redfern said angrily.

Her eyes widened in surprise when Clemin laughed. "Oh, you are most definitely correct there. Now it's just a matter of who I take with me."

AN: So, I actually had most of this written a few months ago, but I didn't like that it was such a short chapter. Guess I'll just have to live with it. So, what happened? Well I found out that I have depression and anxiety and combined with my ADHD…well, it wasn't fun. I stuck with some of my other stories because they were more therapeutic for me in the state I was in. So I'm finally out of all of that, getting back into my game, and then I decided to go to Beauty School (I'm artistic, and I really like it—so much fun) and had to pick up a job on the side. My school is a good 45min-hour away from where I live (through awful traffic both there and back), it starts at 8, ends at 5 (most days, often I'm there later) and when I'm not working I'm delivering pizzas. I would RATHER be home writing, but that just isn't so plausible right now.

Don't get me wrong, I am not abandoning this or any other story. I've already started on the next chapter and I will be finishing this (before the end of the year is my goal).

So, that's why this is so late. ^^;

Thanks again to Shade40, who is ALWAYS amazing! :D