Alfons Heiderich

Ed had never believed that our world was real, I knew. He was always telling stories, talking nostalgically about his home...

But he thought that we were only a dream he had to escape from. Not real, only -

I coughed blood into my hand. I was going to die soon. I knew that. So why did Ed now tell me to stop working, to die without ever finishing my work?

I walked back to the factory.

Not much time left.

A Few Days Later

My rockets...

They were going to be used as weapons of war. Ed had been right. Damn it, what was my life for anymore? Everything I had believed in, everything I had worked for, was all terribly wrong. So wrong...

I watch as Ed collapsed to the ground, bullet undoubtedly in his heart.

... My purpose? Maybe he could have one. Maybe I could save him, and give him what he had longed after for so long... when I was blind to see it...

And suddenly I knew what to do.

I lurched towards him, slight hint of smeared blood on my cheek. Not much time left... I had to...

I reached him, dragged him to my rocket, my creation. There was only a slight tear in the shirt, where his prosthetic arm was. Nice, Ed, to save yourself like that.

"Wha -? What is this?" Ed glanced around, confused. I smiled at him, then told him.

"I set everything up so you can go home. You can take this second rocket while Eckhart isn't looking. You ready?" I could read his expression, his relief at finally going home. And then when he finally realized what it would mean.

"Wait a minute! I never said I wanted to go!"

"I'm not giving you a choice, Ed." You have to survive.

"Because I'm in the way?" Disbelief, then accusingly. "You're trying to get rid of me." I shook my head.

"We're real, Edward. We're not just part of your dreams like you thought." A sharp intake of breath. "I care, and I make mistakes. I may not live much longer, but I'll still be here." I put my hand on his, my last hope to him. "Just don't forget me."

And there it was. What I had to stay to him.

With a last reassuring smile, I pulled down the hood and activated the rocket. And watched him go, even as he called my name out.

And then... a gunshot, and it was all over. Not to sickness after all, but to a gun. And I had finally done something in my final moments...

For there I saw my rocket flying up into the sky...