"Are you absolutely positive?"

"Yes," Roy answered with a slight tinge of annoyance in his voice. It had been the fifth time the young man had asked that very question.

Edward scratched his chin in ponderance, escaping into deep thought once again, no doubt troubled by Riza's "dream."

Roy watched Edward for a few moments, studying him. The young man looked downright exhausted, the darkness under his eyes evident in the well-lit hallway. When Roy had asked him if he had slept at all, Edward had shrugged and noted that it had been late before he finally went to sleep. Having known the young man for nearly nine years now, Roy knew that that meant, at the earliest, four or five in the morning.

"Did she say anything else," Edward asked, breaking Roy's train of thought.

Roy shook his head despondently. "No… But if she had I would have told you. After that she excused herself to go and shower off." He felt that he didn't need to elaborate on the fact that the reason she wanted to was because she still felt as if she was covered in blood…

Edward reluctantly grunted and nodded, obviously not thrilled by Roy's recounting of their most recent development. After thinking for a few moments, he added slowly, "Well, I guess that doesn't necessarily change things too much." Looking Roy square in the eye, he continued, "I still want us to stop in Resembool. I have a few Xersian scripts that I've partially translated; I thinkthere could be something in them we could use. If not, I have another idea."

Roy raised his brow in response, expecting the young man to continue.

Edward shook his head slowly. "I can't say what I'm thinking yet until I talk to Al. I don't want to get your hopes up if it isn't plausible."

Roy couldn't help but frown in response. He wouldn't at least run it by him? Then again, he could have sworn that he saw a hint of defiance in the young man's eyes, as if taunting him and declaring that he also had a few secrets up his sleeve. He silently admitted that the tension between them was palpable ever since leaving the old alchemist's house…

However, Roy quickly pushed the thought away. He wouldn't allow himself to subconsciously wage war with the young man. He knew that Edward was their only valuable resource at this moment. To try and push him would be too risky.

…And Edward wouldn't keep that information to himself, right?

Finally, Roy nodded in reply. For the time being, he would follow Edward's lead.

Clearing his throat and awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot, Edward mumbled something about packing and getting ready to go.

Roy acknowledged him by agreeing, saying that he had to make one quick phone call to Central before they would leave.

"Alright," Edward stated. "Just be ready in about an hour." And with that the former alchemist turned on his heels and thrust his hands into his pockets, making his way down the hallway and toward his room.

Roy watched after him for a few moments before rotating back to his room's door and opening it, stepping inside. He could still hear the water running, signaling to him that Riza was still in the shower.

He quietly made his way over to and picked up the phone's receiver, collapsing heavily onto his bed as he began to dial. Holding the earpiece to his ear, he heard it ring a few times before a woman finally answered, asking for his name and the reason for his call.

After giving her his information, and noting that the nature of his call was urgent, the receptionist quickly transferred him to his own office.

By the second ring, he heard a familiar voice answer. "Heymans Breda."

"Lieutenant, it's Mustang," Roy answered authoritatively. "What's our status?"

Breda paused for a moment before slowly continuing, "Well, sir, Havoc is doing well. Still on oxygen, but has enough stamina to be speaking, or rather, asking.

"Fuery is out of the red, but is still out cold. They need an additional two liters of blood before they do anything else. Said the infection is under control too."

Roy couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least, for the time being, that was one last thing he needed to worry about. "Good. For now I think it's best to keep things between us. No need to stress them out," he added.

"Agreed," Breda said before pausing. After a few beats, he quietly asked, "How's she doing?"

Roy felt a slight twinge of pain in his chest. Even if he was going to be coding the remainder of this call, he still didn't feel the desire to talk about Riza's condition. Still, he knew that his Lieutenant was anxiously awaiting some form of news.

"She's…doing well," Roy began. "We're lucky to have contacted her great-aunt on such short notice. You remember the one; the one with the red coat?"

"Yeah," he heard Breda say, understanding that their conversation was now covert. "Good thing you thought of her on our way over to HQ. How long will she be staying?"

"Not sure," Roy answered shortly when he heard the shower suddenly stop running. "But I'll be there for a while as well."

No doubt hearing Roy's sudden change in tone, Breda ended by saying, "Well, tell her I say 'hello' and that Hayate and I are best buds now-" Roy couldn't help but smile slightly at that. "-And, sir?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"I wanted to let you know that I'm still trying to find that paperwork you asked for a few days ago. Fuery must have hidden it well."

His miniscule smile turned into a frown. "Understood. Just keep me updated."

"Roger," Breda replied before he hung up the line.

Staring down at the phone in his hand, Roy felt his frown grow. Breda had certainly made it clear. The files on this mysterious "Dr. Beller" were long gone, if there were any to begin with. Now they were left wondering just who this man was.

However, at that moment Roy didn't have too long to ponder, because he was abruptly pulled from his thoughts by a loud gasp that originated from the bathroom.

Reaching into the shower and holding her hand under the running water, Riza decided that it had warmed enough. Quickly disrobing and avoiding looking into the mirror entirely, she slipped inside and into the showerhead's spray. After silently willing her still quaking knees to stop, she straightened her legs and allowed her shoulders to relax. But despite standing under the direct flow of water, Riza knew that what she really wanted to wash away could not be by mere soap and water. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she bowed her head and sighed heavily.

She felt dirty.

Violated.

Defiled.

She awkwardly licked her lips, mixing a taste of bitterness and resent into the aftertaste of raw iron that was already present.

That "doctor" had done this; made her into this…abomination.

Saying that she hated him would be saying it too lightly. She loathed him, abhorred him, despised him… In the darkest corners of her mind, she secretly wanted and hoped for nothing more than to see that man dead… And if it were by her hand, it would be a plus.

Taking a ragged and deep breath, she buried her face in her hands and stood motionlessly, letting the water cascade over her head and shoulders. They responded by flattening themselves against her head in an effort to block out the spray of water. This caused her to shudder severely. She wanted nothing more than to scream and cry, anything to express the anger and resent she felt.

But that just wasn't who she was. Besides, Roy and Edward had been nothing but strong for her.

She couldn't give up if they wouldn't. Riza was feeling far too harshly now to quit.

Hah, if Roy could hear her thoughts now, he'd wonder just who she was. Hell, she surprised herself with the amount of animosity she felt. But still, she couldn't help but feel that it was slightly justified…

And in that thought she turned her attention to the General. She immediately chastised herself for her actions, taking out her frustrations on him with harsh words and looks. Riza knew that he was trying all that he could to help, but he was just as clueless as she was. She didn't blame him at all for his actions or mistakes.

Now that she had time to think about it, however, she found that she couldn't even remember why she had lashed out at him. She knew that he had made a few minor mistakes, because who didn't? But thinking back, she found that the little instances that had caused a tinge of anger or annoyance had blended together in the light haze that slowly seemed to be setting in on her mind. Maybe 'haze' wasn't the best word to describe it… Fog? Cloud? Regardless, she found that the longer she tried to piece together the events and actions of everyone involved in the last two days or so, the more that it became jumbled and misplaced, not too unlike Edward and Roy's words from the night before…

At the very least she remembered snapping at him when they had first found her at Central Headquarters. After everything she had witnessed and heard from General Thomas, Roy had immediately honed his concerns in on her, when she believed that he needed to be focused on himself and his own hide. Looking back at it, she realized how incredibly foolish that seemed. Looking back, she knew that he was only looking out for her. After all, he wasn't the one being hunted by the military… yet.

And then there was the fiasco that was her somehow making it across the room and into his bed. Embarrassing could not begin to describe it. For this "mission" they were subordinate and superior; she had no right to seek comfort in him like that, even if it was to fulfill a subconscious desire to feel the warmth his back against her own. Seeking comfort for something that she knew deep down was no nightmare…

By that time the water had grown cold and the thoughts swimming in her head had begun to jumble again, causing her head to throb and ache. So for now, she decided, she would take it one step at a time; keep moving forward.

Shutting the water off, she stepped briskly out of the shower and grabbed the towel nearest her, hugging it tightly around herself. But after a few moments, the cool air that began to set in began nipping at her fingertips and toes, forcing her to seek out her neatly stacked pile of clothing. After finding her pants and slipping them on, she froze. Surely it had been a figment of her imagination…

A moment later, however, it happened again; something ever-so-lightly brushed against the back of her knee. It took every ounce of self-discipline to not become nauseas with realization.

From what Dr. Knox had said the nerves had migrated, which would explain her painful overreaction to the accidental placement of Edward's knee on her hospital bed; it seemed to him that the muscles had not moved along with the nerve fibers. But from the looks of it, he had been sorely mistaken, because that time it had moved on its own.

Indeed, it took every bit of her willpower to not react. But she needed to keep reminding herself of her resolve: keep moving forward, don't stop…

With that in mind, she quickly grabbed her balled up shirt and began smoothing it out when something red that had reflected in the mirror caught her eye. She knew that it was the deep red ink of the tattoo that adorned her back. This time, however, it seemed different.

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes widened in realization, forcing an audible gasp to escape her lips.

Within moments she heard a set of heavy footsteps making their way toward the bathroom door. She instinctively held her shirt against her body, covering whatever she hadn't clothed. A heartbeat later the door flew open, revealing a disheveled and worried Roy Mustang.

For a split second she felt at ease, silently thanking him for making an appearance. However, that ease quickly dispersed, giving way to a feeling of anxiousness as she watched his eyes drift from her to the reflection of her back in the mirror.

She too looked back over her shoulder, as if to verify again what they were seeing. And indeed it was as she first had seen it.

The large, disfiguring tattoo was no longer an elaborate array of alchemical formulas and ancient words. Instead, the once, dare she say "beautiful?" array had become greatly distorted, the writings, letters, and columns rippled like waves across the skin on her back. The circle itself no longer had a shape that could be described simply, becoming a configuration of jagged and curved lines that now seemed to consume the remainder of available space. And finally, the small salamander that completed the array seemed to have grown, its small body becoming narrow and slender like a serpent's, snaking its way up from the center of her lower back to her left shoulder and replacing the burn scars that were now absent.

Slowly turning back to face the General, Riza found that his eyes were still on the array, drinking in its now mangled appearance. She watched him for a few additional moments until he blinked, focusing his attention on her once more.

Since the incident, she had tried to think of one good thing that could possibly come of it. And now, ironically, she has: the array was completely destroyed, unreadable. Trying her best to smile at and ease him, she murmured, "At least something good has come of this…"

"I have given you everything that you requested, "Doctor," and this is how you repay me?!"

Dr. Beller held the phone receiver away from his ear in order to quiet the other man's tirade. After a few moments, the line was silent. Pressing it back against his ear, he nervously stated, "I-I know, sir. But you saw the result, the Stone didn't-"

"I know what I saw and there was no indication that the Stone worked. If this was anyone other than the Hawk's Eye, I would have drawn my gun and killed her on the spot. Do you know how long it took me to get my hands on it; only for you to 'use it up' in one go?!"

"Sir-"

"There will be no excuses," the low, gravelly voice spat, cutting the doctor off. "I will give you once last chance, Beller. I just contacted Arcadia's station and there were indeed three adults, two men and one woman, that boarded the train bound for Resembool. Their descriptions perfectly match those of the Flame Alchemist, Captain Riza Hawkeye, and the Fullmetal Alchemist. No doubt they are bound for the Fullmetal Alchemist's hometown.

"Now, your task is simple… I want you to simply go and retrieve Number Eighty-eight and bring her back alive. Kill anyone else you need to, except for the Flame Alchemist. He is still of use to me."

"But sir, Fullmetal-"

"-Is an alchemist no more," the man on the other end of the line shot back agitatedly. "Just bring her back, spare the Flame Alchemist, and slaughter the rest; I don't care!" Before hanging up, the man added darkly, "You have three days, Beller; and if you should fail, I will personally guarantee that your end will not be pleasant."

Click.

Slowly pulling the receiver from his ear and staring down at it, the crazed doctor blinked a few times, taking in his employer's words. After letting them sink in for a moment, he turned to the two large figures that stood over his shoulder. "Well," he growled deeply, "You heard the man. We've three days… And there are to be no mistakes."

General Thomas slowly hung up the phone's receiver, leaving his hand on it in the hopes that it would calm his trembling hand. But the constant reminder of the sheer incompetence that seemed to surround him only enraged him more.

Upon hearing a knock at his door, he pulled his hand away and balled it into a fist, resting it atop his desk. Clearing his throat, he addressed his visitor, beckoning them to come in.

The door to his office slowly creaked open, revealing Lieutenant Colonel Wilson. Raising his right hand in salute, he noted, "Sorry sir, but I couldn't help but overhear your displeasure. I wanted to come and offer any assistance you may need."

Relaxing his shoulders slightly, the General shook his head. "At ease, Lieutenant Colonel." Leaning forward and lacing his fingers together, he challenged, "What did you overhear?"

Dropping his salute, Wilson stated, "Nothing really, sir. I simply overheard the tone of your voice, and thus came to investigate. But there is nothing for me to do; I can be on my way."

General Thomas chuckled lightly. "I appreciate the gesture, Lieutenant Colonel, but there is no need. I was simply demonstrating my dissatisfaction with one of our suppliers. You see, he was supposed to deliver eighty-eight goods to me, but has failed to produce a single order. But," he added cryptically, "I think that number eighty-eight is the charm, if you know what I mean."

"Yes… of course, sir," Wilson agreed unsurely as he dipped his head toward his superior officer. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to finish up the remainder of this paperwork."

Thomas nodded slightly. "Alright, thank you Lieutenant Colonel."

"No problem, sir," the dark-eyed man responded before he saluted again and left, closing the door behind him.

The General waited for a few moments as he listened to his subordinate's fading footsteps before finally allowing the self-satisfied smirk he had been hiding to shine through.

A/N: Wow! It's been a month since I last updated! So here is the new chapter. Hope you enjoyed.

Quick note: Ah! General Thomas?! But I-, he-, what?! …Exactly ;)

To be honest in the month I didn't update, I had considered abandoning the story. But then I had an idea and very slightly tweaked the path that it is on. So, while the possibility is still there, I am at least going to give it a few more chapters before deciding if I am going to drop it or not.

But for now, thank you to all that have favorited, reviewed, and followed Humanity! I'm quite surprised and flattered to note that it is on the same track as Pressure Point in terms of number of follows by the ninth chapter. However, I know the two stories are completely different, so I don't necessarily expect the track to be the same. Regardless, thank you!

Finally, next chapter will have Royai, Edwin, and some action. If I post the next three chapters, they will pick up the pace immensely in order to go into the final two arcs, so I'm expecting this fic to be no longer than 20-25 chapters, depending on how I split it up. But we shall see…