A/N: Important author's note at end.
"He…he used a Philosopher's Stone."
Edward's widened eyes moved slowly back to the rune in the hopes that he had made a mistake. But the same trigonal, blood-caked symbol he saw was still there, mocking him with its existence. He could feel Mustang watching him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the man's ashen face was mixed with horror and confusion. He knew what the Stone was; he had seen it in action before. He has seen the good and the bad that resulted from it. But he didn't understand what it meant…
If Edward's hunch was correct, which he was positive it was, nothing good would come of that failed transmutation.
He should have known. The Law of Equivalent Exchange could never be broken.
"Edward… What does this mean?" He could hear the panic rising in Mustang's voice. When Edward didn't answer, the black-haired man gripped the lapels of Edward's jacket, jerking him toward himself. "Answer me!"
Without casting a second glance toward Mustang, his eyes still focused on the seemingly simple symbol etched onto the floor, Edward whispered numbly, "There was no change in mass."
"What," the Flame Alchemist growled in bewilderment, tightening his grip on the young man's jacket.
Edward's eyes slowly scanned over to Mustang's paled visage. "There was no change in mass, so… Where did the rest of the matter go?"
"Edward… You're not making any sense…"
But he was. He could feel Mustang's grip on his coat loosening as he began to realize the gravity of what Edward had said.
The Law of Equivalent Exchange could never be bypassed, even with the use of a Philosopher's Stone. The idea that one could is simply an illusion. Taking that and the Law of Conservation of Mass into consideration, one must realize that the "product" should have the amount of matter and mass of the reactants.*
He should have seen it before. Because Hawkeye did not fit into the law.
Mustang's arms fell limply back at his sides after releasing Edward's jacket. He too stared at the circle, at the damned symbol etched innocently into it. "What… what does this mean," he stammered detachedly.
"That bastard got away scot-free," Edward growled bitterly as he turned away from the circle. "He used the Stone to save his own hide. He knew there would be a rebound, so he mitigated the effect of the rebound on himself by dispersing it." Craning his head up and fixing his eyes on nothing in particular, Edward murmured, "The Truth took more than her humanity, Mustang… It took whatever the hell It wanted."
He slowly let his words sink in. Since the Truth could not punish the alchemist, it decided to claim its fair share from the next best thing… The "product." After taking her and playing a sick, sadistic game of mix and match, It decided what It would keep and what It would leave behind.
The heart beating in Hawkeye's chest may not be her own. Or her lungs. Or her insides. Or anything else.
The Truth was cruel…
"What do we do?" He could feel Mustang's distressed eyes on him again, desperately pleading for an answer.
But he didn't have an answer. There were too many crucial missing variables. What was lost? How can they possibly match the force of a Philosopher's Stone? Why did everything turn out the way it did? Without knowing any of the details, one miscalculation would be devastating.
All Edward felt was a sense of failure and uselessness. He had failed so many times before. Failed to help Nina. Failed to help all of the chimera that have since been. And now he would fail again.
"Edward…" Mustang's plea brought him back to his senses as the man gripped his shoulder. "Please… What do we do?"
Turning his gaze toward his hands in his lap, Edward dejectedly responded, "I don't know…"
After sitting in a silence plagued with shock and despondency, the young man muttered to Roy that he was going to jot down the circle, to examine once they returned back to Central headquarters. With a deadened sigh, Edward silently stood and walked around the circle, seating himself on the other side, his golden eyes staring blankly at it for a few minutes before pulling out a pad of paper from his pocket.
Roy remained where he was, his thoughts racing through his mind at incredible speeds. But no matter how long he stared at the circle, he couldn't make an iota of sense of what he was looking at. He wasn't the genius here. Turning his glazed look up at the blond-haired young man across from him, he watched as he scribbled down on his pad of paper, muttering to himself as he did so.
Tearing his eyes away from Edward, Roy was about to look back down at his lap in his hopeless stupor when something in the middle of the circle glistened, catching his gaze. After staring at it for a few seconds, he slowly got to his feet and staggered over to it, crouching down and picking the mysterious objects up in his hands. Raising his hands to his face, feelings of recognition flooded his mind.
In his palm were two simple, studded silver earrings, still covered in a fine layer of blood. As he held them closer, he easily identified them as the ones he had given to Riza so many years ago; their small, imperfect creased edges obvious despite the blood on them.
The same ones he had transmuted after saving up a decent amount of silver coins.
The same ones he gave her before leaving to join the academy.
The same ones she has worn since he saw her in Ishval.
And now here they were; a relic of a past that seemed so long ago. A time where he was just a boy with dreams that were too big for his own good, and she was just a girl that wanted to see those dreams come to life.
A simpler time.
Roy was snapped from his thoughts when Edward stood across from him. Weary, golden eyes found Roy's; silently signaling that he was done.
"I've got everything I need. Let's go back," the young man mumbled. "I'm going to call Al in Xing before he moves again," he stated, referring to the younger brother's wanderlust. As he turned toward the exit, he shot a glance over his shoulder at Roy, urging him to follow.
Slowly rising to his feet, Roy finally peeled his eyes away from the earrings in his hand and dropped them carefully into his pocket before starting after the young man.
As Roy and Edward slowly trudged toward the exit, they heard a chorus of cursing and yelling. Casting each other a confused glance, they raced through the door and into the crisp fall night.
The jeers were louder and more violent-sounding outside, echoing off of the concrete building the pair had emerged from. In front of them was a crowd of MPs, the source of the noise. Edward and Roy pushed their way through the crowd until they got to the center. Before them was a military officer, pointing his gun at an unfamiliar man that was on his knees, his massive arms wrapped behind him and restrained by two other officers.
"What is going on here," Roy blared.
Upon hearing his voice, the men within the General's immediate vicinity scrambled away, leaving only Roy and Edward anywhere near the man and his captors.
"Hello, General," the blond-haired officer with the gun smirked, his dark eyes still on his captive. "So nice of you to join us."
Roy's anger surged when he recognized the man. Lieutenant Colonel James Wilson, the subordinate of the very radical and extreme General David Thomas. Of all the people that would be involved, why did it have to be those two?
"Look at what we found slinking around," the Lieutenant Colonel gnarled as he cocked his weapon. "One of the monsters that killed our men."
Roy's eyes scanned over to the unknown man. At first glance, the man did not appear out of the ordinary. A full, dark beard and mane of equally dark hair covered most of his facial features, leaving only his brilliant green eyes as a defining feature. The longer he looked, however, the more Roy realized that this man was far from normal. Those bright green eyes he had observed contained slitted pupils, greatly contrasting any other normal appearance.
Feeling the General's eyes on him, the man turned and stared at the black-haired alchemist, his lips drawn back, revealing a set of large, prominent canines. His eyes narrowed to match his mocking accompanying grin, sending shivers down Roy's spine.
Tearing his eyes away from the captive's, Roy focused in on the Lieutenant Colonel. "Where's General Thomas?"
Eyes still focused on the monster of a man, the Lieutenant Colonel nonchalantly responded, "He's back at Central HQ, getting prepared to ask your men about the incident."
Roy suddenly broke into a cold sweat. The only ones that knew the "extent" of the incident were his men, Dr. Knox, and Edward. Trying desperately to cover his emotions, he growled, "Is it really necessary at this time? They are in no condition to be answering questions."
For the first time during their conversation, Wilson turned his gaze toward the General, his eyes hinting at his surprise. "Of course it is, General. The sooner we get their statements, the sooner we can track down their 'master' and make him pay for making these atrocities."
"I told you, that lunatic is not my 'master,'" the chimera growled, still on his knees. "I am not-"
"Quiet, monster," the Lieutenant Colonel replied coldly as he focused his attention once more on the bearded man, frowning in disgust. "You are not to speak unless spoken to." He nodded toward the two men that restrained the man's arms behind his back, signaling for them to lift him.
The two men dragged him to his feet and held him there, his green eyes blazing with anger.
"You may leave now, General," Wilson stated as he glanced at Roy from the corner of his eye. "We'll take it from here."
Dwelling for a few moments, the Flame Alchemist noted the waiting prison vehicle and the armed guards that stood by it. "Alright," he finally replied, ignoring the glare of a pair of green eyes, "But tell General Thomas that I would like to speak to this man at the earliest convenience."
"We'll see…" the Lieutenant Colonel replied tauntingly.
Turning slightly toward Edward, Roy nodded and muttered, "Let's go."
The former alchemist nodded in return and began following the General back to their vehicle. However, after taking a few steps past the crowd, they heard a loud crack resonate through the cold, still air.
Turning toward the source of the noise, Roy gaped in disbelief at what he saw.
The green-eyed man was now slouched forward and on his knees. A few moments after the sound ceased, he crumpled into a heap at the Lieutenant Colonel's feet. Dead.
In the Lieutenant Colonel's hand was the still smoking gun, fresh from firing the single shot.
Immediately Roy was in the military officer's face. "What the hell happened," he seethed as he narrowed his midnight eyes.
Wilson raised his hands defensively, trying, but failing, at hiding the smirk that spread across his thinned lips. "He resisted, so I had to take… personal measures."
"What," Roy snarled. "I didn't even see him flinch."
"Well, you did turn away. Besides, Council's orders," the man replied innocently. "'If any of them are to resist or pose an immediate threat, you may take personal measures in order to protect your safety and the safety of those around you,'" he rattled off, as if reading from a document.
"Council's orders," Roy echoed back in disbelief. That was impossible. He was on that council; the assembly devised by Grumman that would eventually become Parliament.
"From what I heard," the Lieutenant Colonel heckled, "The Council thought it best to remove you from the vote this time around. You know, too emotionally invested," he commented, referring to the General's team.
"From my understanding, anything that can lead us to their creator is to be kept alive until all information is extracted. And if there is no valuable information and they're being defiant," he shrugged, "We are to dispatch them immediately. As far as I'm concerned, that's an order to eliminate every last one of those monsters." Seeing the General's expression of disbelief, he went on, fully believing in and justifying his actions. "It must be done in order to protect our own. And if you were wise, you too would consider that order, lest you endanger your men again," a curt smile spread across his narrow face as he flicked the safety on his gun and holstered it.
"You bastard," Edward pushed past Roy and stood to face the man, anger radiating off his body. Fists clenched tightly at his sides, he growled, "The only monster here is you."
Unfazed by the young man's verbal assault, he Lieutenant Colonel shrugged, "I'm just doing what General Thomas and the Council ordered me to."
Edward was about to fire back when Roy put a hand on his shoulder. "Edward… We need to go," he muttered as a feeling of uneasiness washed over him.
Edward turned back toward Wilson and snarled, "But-"
"Now," Roy snapped, cutting the young man off.
With one final huff, the former alchemist reluctantly turned away, briskly following a nearly sprinting Mustang.
Once they made it into the car, Roy turned the key, the engine roaring to life. As he skidded away from the scene and sped off, Edward turned to him and glared. "What the hell was that about?"
"The Council is the prototype for the future Parliament. Along with the Fuhrer, they too have some say in military affairs."
"Where the hell is the Fuhrer in all of this," Edward clamored.
Roy was hit with a sudden realization. He had completely forgotten that the Fuhrer was doing one final tour of neighboring countries in order to strengthen their shaky, yet standing, peace treaties. "Out of the picture," he murmured in defeat. "Right now, it looks like the Council has the final say… And I no longer have any power."
Roy and Edward burst through the hospital doors, making a beeline toward Riza's room.
With twisted, radicalized orders from the Council, General Thomas would have no problem justifying dispatching another 'monster'; military status or not. He knew the man was extreme in his views, but it was a completely new notion to him that the man and his subordinates would be alright with killing for the sake of killing.
The two men froze when a Breda emerged from Riza's room, the color completely drained from his face.
"What's wrong," Mustang demanded, a feeling of dread flooding his gut.
"I-I was only gone for two minutes," Breda stammered as he looked down at his hands, "And-"
Roy pushed past the bumbling man and stopped dead in his tracks upon entering the room.
The bed was empty. The room was empty.
Riza was gone.
A/N: I hope I implied enough about the workings of the Philosopher's Stone. If I did not, here is a (hopefully) clearer description of what I meant:
*According to a few sources, the Philosopher's Stone does not allow you to defy the Laws of Equivalent Exchange; it merely amplifies your power. And since making a human-chimera hybrid is a form of Human Transmutation, something will still be lost.
Due to the Law of Conservation of Mass, if you were to have two objects, each at 1kg each, if combined, the resulting product will be 2kg (as long as no mass was converted into energy during the process). It can be a lot more complicated than this, so we'll leave it at that. Pretty much, Riza gained little or no mass, so the question is, where did the remaining mass from the system go?
So now, one of two things could have happened: 1) The matter that was "lost" could have been consumed in the reaction, converting it to energy. Or 2) Anything that was lost is stuck at the Gate. If they were to try and simply separate Riza and the wolf, they could end up with her having no heart, etc. because it may not be hers (and thus may be lost/at the Gate).
If you are still lost, feel free to PM me and I will try to clear things up.