"Tell me... What is your name?"
General Thomas watched as the chimera looked down at the photograph in her hands.
A smile crept onto his face. "Do you know him?" He paused for a moment. "General Roy Mustang?"
No reaction. Not even a twitch or hesitation.
He let the name sit and simmer for a moment just in case. But still nothing...
"The Hero of Ishval," he sneered as a surge of anger began to rise within him. "The future 'Fuhrer' of Amestris?"
Nothing.
"How about... The Hawk's Eye?"
He watched as she ran her thumb over the photograph, completely oblivious to what he was saying.
"Riza," he said with another drawn out pause. "Riza Hawkeye?"
The lack of a reaction brought back his sinister smile. "Then how about... Eighty-Eight?"
With that she looked up, yellow eyes flitting about in an attempt to read his face.
His smile broadening, Thomas lowered his voice, "Yes, that's right; Eighty-Eight is your name."
Upon hearing the set of words again, her brows raised and ears twitched in recognition.
Reaching forward, he yanked the picture from her grasp and stood.
Feeling her eyes on him, he grinned as he began ripping the paper to bits and pieces. When he deemed them small enough, he collected them in one hand and crushed them. "And he is no longer your commanding officer."
"Sir, may I asked where we are going," Lieutenant Colonel Wilson asked as he obediently followed General Thomas through the winding tunnels beneath Central Command. When the General invited him to a "private" meeting, he did not expect it to be there. He had thought that the tunnels had been sealed after what many referred to as "the Promised Day."
The General did not respond, instead quickening his pace. Despite having a cane, the General was still surprisingly spry.
"Sir," Wilson began again as he attempted to catch up with his superior officer, "Again, if you don't mind me asking, where are we-"
"It's best that I show you," the General snapped, cutting his subordinate off.
Surprised by the General's harsh tone, Wilson opted to remain silent. After a few minutes, however, he heard a peculiar noise. Straining to listen as they neared it, he realized that the "noise" was actually a mixture of noises.
Pulling two pairs of headphones from his pocket, the General handed some to his subordinate, then stopped to place them in his ears.
"Sir, why-"
Thomas raised his hand, silencing the Colonel.
Frustrated by the lack of information, Wilson reluctantly placed them in his ears as he watched the General pull open a steel door at the end of the corridor and motioned for him to follow.
As soon as he entered the hallway, he was hit with a barrage of strange odors and noises, despite having the ear protection in place. Turning to the sources of the noises, he was horrified by what he saw.
Lining the hallway to the left of him were a series of prison-like cells. Within each one was a "beast" of sorts; some humanoid in shape, while others were less so. Every single one of them took notice of the two men and immediately stopped their pacing or howling and launched themselves at the bars, clawing frantically at them.
Shocked and disturbed, Wilson rushed forward, nearly running into the General, whom had already gotten to the next door and opened it. Pushing his way through it, he slammed it behind him and the General. Turning to the General, his mouth agape, he exclaimed, "Sir, you... You caught the-"
"I wouldn't say 'caught,' Lieutenant Colonel," Thomas responded as he pulled the earplugs from his ears and turned to his subordinate, a cryptic smile on his face. "It's more like I 'have' them."
"General, I don't-"
"Follow me and I will explain," Thomas murmured as he began to continue down the second corridor they had entered.
"Tell me, Lieutenant Colonel; how are Amestris's relationships with our surrounding countries?"
"N-not good, sir," Wilson replied confusedly.
"And do you think our current Fuhrer's last tour will do anything about our relations?"
Wilson paused for a moment. Fuhrer Grumman had a way with words, but tensions had grown between their nation and Drachma and Aerugo in the past two years. Despite his silver tongue, there was still a lot of work that needed to be done...
"No, sir," Wilson responded truthfully.
"Exactly," Thomas agreed as he trudged on. "And, unfortunately, our next leader is too much like our current one: soft. He may have seen the Ishvalan war and had been deemed a 'hero,' but he has not the experience nor what it takes to rule.
"War is imminent, Colonel, and with either one at the helm, Amestris will fall. So, I have taken it upon myself to ensure that this nation thrives... One way or another." Stopping at another steel door, the General turned to his subordinate. "Will you continue to follow me, Lieutenant Colonel?"
The younger man paused for a moment. Why would he ask such a thing? Of course he would follow him. After knowing him for so many years, he discovered that everything the General did was for the good of this nation, even if it may seem radical or extreme to others.
He himself joined the military to protect this nation and its citizens from any threat that presented itself, domestic or international. If the General saw something in the current government's structure that would cause the fall of Amestris, then it must be true.
"Yes, sir," the Lieutenant Colonel answered.
The General's face softened as he smiled genuinely at his subordinate. "Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel. I always knew that I could trust you. And that is why I am filling you in on my solution for this nation."
"Solution, sir?" Wilson wondered aloud.
With a grunt and shove, the General pushed the steel door open with great effort. Once it was ajar, he motioned for the Colonel to follow. After limping along for a while, the General finally spoke. "Do you remember after the Promised Day when our office was flooded with extremely sensitive files from the years that Bradley ruled?"
"Yes, sir..." Wilson replied in agreement.
"And among those files were reports on alchemic soldiers?"
"...Yes. Chimeras, sir?"
"Correct; they are the solution."
Wilson stared at his commander as he followed behind him, genuinely lost. "But, sir, you and the Council ordered for them to be-"
"Exterminated, yes. But are the ones trapped down here dead, Lieutenant Colonel?"
"...No, sir."
"Exactly," the General began. "The ones on the surface are rogues, destined to die.
"You see, Lieutenant Colonel, under the former Bradley rule, many human-based chimera were created and deemed 'perfect soldiers.' However, they were far from perfect, because do you know what they possessed?"
Wilson did not respond, finding himself at a loss.
"Their humanity," Thomas answered for him in annoyance. "Their thoughts, their emotions, their wills... Everything that still made them human... To an extent.
"Many of them defected from the military after the war, switching sides or disappearing altogether. A waste of military funding and are thus targeted for elimination," he spat.
"But," Thomas continued, "What if you could take that away? Their emotional connection to their own species? Their resistance to slaughtering their own kind? If you take that away, you have a new breed of soldier. And that," he finally stopped and motioned to the cell in front of him, "is my ultimate goal."
Turning to see what he had gestured to, Wilson's eyes widened in shock. Sitting in the back in a small bench, knees pulled to her chest and blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, was a familiar form. "Is-is that-"
"Yes," Thomas answered as he stepped forward and clapped a hand on his subordinate's shoulder.
Doing his best to hide his horror, The Lieutenant Colonel muttered, "And she agreed to the program. Just like that?" Captain Hawkeye was 110% devoted to General Mustang. She would never-
"Partially," Thomas admitted as he squeezed the Colonel's shoulder. "She volunteered to go first when her comrades were threatened. Noble, yet foolish.
"Although, she isn't Captain Hawkeye anymore..."
"I-I don't-"
"Captain," the General called out in a sickeningly sweet tone, causing Wilson to flinch. Out of blatant curiosity, however, he turned to watch the Captain.
She was looking away from them, so they only saw a profile of her face. However, he saw her eye flick over to them and quickly return to staring back at the wall. Though the gesture was more acknowledgement than recognition.
"Riza Hawkeye," the General called next.
She didn't even flinch, failing to show any sign of recognition.
"... Eighty-eight," the General resounded next, a hint of a smile in his voice.
Wilson stared in shock when she turned her head fully to glare at the pair, saffron-colored eyes narrowed in dislike. That's when he noticed...
"Her...ears?"
The General chuckled lightly. "The process didn't work completely. Our goal was to create a blend that removed any signs of a transmutation. However, we at least got rid of what we were aiming to."
Still staring in shock and disbelief, Wilson murmured, "How would... How would anyone say this was okay? The Fuhrer-"
"Will be dead in a matter of time," the General cut him off nonchalantly.
Turning wide-eyed to his leader, Wilson gaped at him. "Dead, sir? Why-"
"Like I told you, Lieutenant Colonel, he is not fit to rule. Now is the opportune time to eliminate the string of command in this country; between the passing of the torch."
"But Mustang-"
"General Mustang will never see his position of power, Colonel Wilson. You need to remember that the power is not immediately handed over to the predecessor, according to our newly drafted government documents. Rather, it is handed to the Council until the new leader is ready to take it on. A fault in our policies? Perhaps. But it works in our benefit this time."
"'Our,' sir?" Wilson asked as he tried to push down his feelings of disgust and shame. This was not the man he had sworn his life to.
"The Council, of course," Thomas said with a smile. "It makes conquest much easier when you have nearly 75% of them on your side..."
It was all beginning to sink in...
The General was planning to eliminate the Fuhrer... He wanted war.
And he was going to get it... And use soldiers designed to win...
"Will you still follow me," the General asked again. This time, however, his voice was laced with skepticism.
Slowly turning his attention from the Captain to his commander, Wilson raised his head and muttered, "Yes, sir."
"How are you feeling?"
Turning his head to look at his commanding officer, Fuery murmured, "Alright, sir... Still tired though..."
Casting his subordinate a weary smile, Roy said, "I don't doubt it, Sargent. You've only woken up a few days ago..."
"Yeah," the young man muttered as he clenched his bedsheets in his fists and stared ahead of him.
Seeing his Sargent's change in demeanor, Roy asked, "Is everything alright?"
"I guess," Kain murmured as he looked away from his superior officer. "It's just that... I miss everyone, you know?"
Roy paused for a moment, knowing exactly where this was going. "You did see Lieutenant Havoc just yesterday, remember? And Lieutenant Breda will be by later today..." He knew that the young man wanted to know Riza's condition, but he didn't know what to say...
What was there to say? That she was taken and gone for a month? That their efforts in finding her had proved fruitless? That they didn't actually know what her condition was...?
Every day Roy woke up was a nightmare upon realizing that she wasn't there.
Every. Single. Day...
Nodding, Fuery wearily said, "I know, sir. I just wish I could see everyone in one place. Why-"
Suddenly someone burst into the hospital room in a fit of panic. Turning toward the door, Roy identified the man as none other than Lieutenant Colonel Wilson.
"I'll be right back," he growled as he stood, his eyes never leaving the officer's.
Stepping into the hallway and closing the door loudly behind him, Roy sneered, "What is the meaning of this, Lieutenant Colonel," hoping to make his displeasure and dislike obvious to the man.
Seemingly oblivious to the General's distaste for him, the panting and wide-eyed Colonel gasped, "Sir, I-I can lead you to your Captain."