Hi guys! I strongly suggest listening to the FMA soundtrack while reading this. That's what I did while writing it, and it made me feel so dramatic I almost cried, haha.

o-0-o

Tim Marcoh sighed. "You are an alchemist, correct?"

Ed nodded.

"Then maybe you could help me. You see…I returned to finish my work."

The very temperature of the room seemed to drop dramatically as the last syllable of Marcoh's intent fell from his lips, and the boy froze, golden eyes widening at the implications.

Marcoh, perhaps seeing the expression on Edward's face and sensing the sudden frigid atmosphere, hastened to explain himself.

"No, no, it's not what you think!" He held his hands up defensively to the suddenly horrified alchemist.

"Then what do you mean," Edward said aggressively. "Last time I checked, your work involved mass genocide!" He leaned forward, as if contemplating whether or not to tackle Marcoh to the floor before he could do any damage.

Marcoh backed up a step, intimidated, but then he seemed to slump into himself, as if he deserved such a reaction. "How much do you know?"

"Enough," Edward spat. "You created weapons for the military during the Ishvalan Rebellion before deserting out of guilt. I read your research. I read about the experiments. So tell me, how exactly is your finishing your research not what I think?"

The older alchemist looked down in the face of Edward's ire. "Guilt. Yes. I am guilty of many things." He pinched his nose, hiding his black eyes behind a grizzled hand. "Experimenting on humans, creating weapons of mass destruction, following orders blindly without regards to my conscience…but don't you see? That's why I had to return."

Edward remained silent, clearly not seeing. His golden eyes were intense, though his expression had softened from outright aggression to a deep seated suspicion and wariness.

Marcoh sighed, dropping his hand. "Come with me. I think it would be easier to show you than to explain." Without waiting for a response, the old man turned and walked out the door, slumped shoulders appearing to carry the weight of the world upon them.

After a pause of indecision, Edward followed, his uneven footsteps the only indication that he was there. As they boy shut the door behind him, the lab went dark.

o-0-o

Ed just didn't know what to make of this.

He limped along behind the Doctor, trying to make sense of what he had just discovered. This was the man they had been chasing across the country, ever since they heard a rumor about him in Xenotime. Whenever they thought they had gotten close to a clue, he would seem to slip away, like a phantom. And yet, here he was now, walking before him, as real as any man. It just didn't seem possible.

But maybe he was overthinking this. Maybe he should just be thanking this uncharacteristic luck that led him directly to the very man he had been searching for. There was just one little problem with that.

Edward didn't believe in luck.

His eyes narrowed at the back of the older man, his thoughts running as fast as they were able, only hindered by the pain in his side, a dull throbbing always in his peripheral.

How much do you know?

What did he know?

Marcoh once worked for the military. According to Armstrong, he left when his conscience could no longer support the work he was being asked to do. He fled with his research, traveling around Amestris as a doctor. He settled in a small town and became its primary physician for two years. Then he was attacked and supposedly abducted by a homunculus, the same homunculus who he had been told was powerful enough to cut through trees with a flick of her bare hand.

This was where things just didn't add up. How did he escape? Just how powerful was this alchemist to get away from someone many times stronger than him?

Unless…unless he didn't.

Ed quickly looked down, hiding his eyes with his bangs. Furtively, he glanced about them, looking for some kind of clue that pointed to…something. They were walking in another nondescript hallway though, so there was very little he could glean from that. He couldn't say for certain with only half formed ideas in his mind, but he felt that there was more to this, he just couldn't put his finger on it.

His side suddenly gave a fierce throb, burning hot, and Edward held back a gasp of pain. Quickly making sure Marcoh wasn't paying attention, he lifted his flesh hand under his shirt and gently prodded the wound. He grit his teeth. Not good. It was soaked through. But there was nothing he could do about it right now…

Marcoh's voice interrupted his thoughts and Edward looked up, fighting off a slight wave of dizziness.

"You're the Fullmetal Alchemist, aren't you," Marcoh said softly over the padding of their feet.

After a pause of surprise, Edward answered. "Yes, I am. How did you know?"

The man snorted, as if that was a ludicrous thing to ask. "Everyone knows about you, Edward Elric. You are the youngest alchemist to ever pass the state exam. Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People, you have built up quite the reputation."

His voice sounded more than a little interested in this fact, and Edward shifted uncomfortably. Silence fell between them once more, and he began to feel a bit of trepidation. Where were they going? To distract himself, he asked a question that had been bothering him for quite some time.

"Why did you leave a note?"

The man's shoulders seemed to tense slightly, and Edward wished he could see his face. This reaction again…

After a delay, Marcoh began to speak once more. "…I left it because…I hoped it would lead a talented alchemist like you here."

"Why? That was a dangerous risk. What if I hadn't connected your research to this place?" Edward replied quickly.

"But it did." Marcoh replied, just as fast. His voice was sharper now, and Edward didn't push him further, though there were many more things he could add. There wasn't any more time, in any case. They had come to their destination.

Marcoh stopped and placed his hands on the door. "This is why I had to come back." With a slight heave, the old man pushed the doors open, flooding the dim hallway with bright red light.

Edward squinted at the change, arm thrown up to block the too bright light after hours in almost complete darkness. At first all he could see was Marcoh's silhouette against the ominous glow. Marcoh glanced over his shoulder, black eyes glinting.

"The incomplete philosopher's stone."

Marcoh stepped to the side…and Edward's heart slammed into his throat. He took on shaking step forward, then another, then his legs surged forward until he was practically sprinting into the room, head whipping back in forth in wide eyed shock.

His chest heaved in adrenaline and horror as he came to a dead stop in the center of the room, stumbling badly because of his injury but too preoccupied to pay the pain any attention. Golden eyes darted around him, seeing but not quite comprehending what he saw.

It was a huge tank, surrounding him, making the walls. And it was filled to the brim with red water.

The vile, blood-like substance was thick and opaque, making it almost impossible to determine its depth. Several more tanks sat around the center of the room, circular tubes filled with at least four hundred gallons more, each. Below his feet, a huge transmutation circle lay painted on the smooth floor, the black strokes menacing in design. The sick red glow reflected off of Edward's skin, making him feel filthy, as if covered in the blood of others, and he shuddered deeply.

Edward gaped, rapid fire calculations going off in his mind at light speed. "How many thousands–" he choked, "how many thousands of people had to die for this?!" He whipped his head back around to stare accusingly at Marcoh, nausea pooling in his gut.

The man was still standing in the doorway, framed by the darkness in the hall behind him. Edward could not read his expression, but he was looking directly at the boy, black eyes reflecting the red in the room around him, the glowing light making him look demonic.

"Do you really want to know?" When Edward could not respond, he slowly began walking towards him, his footsteps echoing loudly off the smooth, glass walls in the cavernous room. The young man was half tempted to take a step back. Marcoh seemed…different somehow than he had even a second ago. But as he got closer, he seemed to school his expression back to one of intense guilt. The change was so subtle that Edward almost thought he had imagined it.

Marcoh stopped just outside of the large transmutation circle that Edward was standing in the middle of. He looked down, a frown deepening his wrinkles. "I admit, many of these lives were destroyed by me. But this was going on long before I ever showed up." He looked Edward straight in the eye. "I am only responsible for about fifteen percent of the material here. This room was already created by the time I arrived twenty years ago."

Edward scanned the room once more, a new horror filling him. Just how long had this been going on? This was much much more material than only the prison could provide. Who had died; what towns, what cities, had died to make all of this?

As Edward remained silent, Marcoh continued. "I came here to finish my work. I came back here to make sure that these materials could not be used by the military anymore. I would make the philosopher's stone and then steal it, taking the rest of my work with me."

"You think that by doing this," Ed said in a strangled voice, "that somehow all of your guilt, all of what you did, would disappear?"

"Edward…surely you must understand a man's need to try and undo what he has done." Ed snapped his eyes around in shock at the words. "Your brother…he was put in that body by you, wasn't he?"

"How–"

"How do I know? Because I have seen it before. Did you think you were the only one to have the idea to bond a soul to a suit of armor?" He began to walk along the perimeter of the transmutation circle slowly, and Edward tracked his progress with his eyes, the rest of him seized by Marcoh's words. "You tried to something beyond your means, and you lost his body as a result. You saved his soul…and are even now trying to restore him to his original form." He stopped. "I knew you were searching for the philosopher's stone. The fact that you found my research and came here…it must be fate." He tilted his head. "Will you help me, Edward?"

Alphonse…

"Why don't you just do it yourself," Edward asked, his voice low, as if hypnotized, body throbbing with every painful heartbeat.

Marcoh began pacing once more. "There's still something missing. That research was everything I had, everything that was accumulated through years of research and testing, and still, the military has never come close to making the real stone. That was why this place was abandoned. Without me and my research, they could not possibly continue this work."

"So what do you think I can do about it?"

"You found my research. You are a prodigy. What I need is a new perspective. I think you know. Think! Use my research and finally find the answer that has alluded me for years…"

Edward looked down, thinking. It was here. All of the answers were here. This was his chance to finally set things right. Alphonse…Alex…he could save them, save them both…

But…

"But these are humans," he whispered staring into the red. "I can't…"

"Edward…" Marcoh was only a voice to him now, as if Ed was arguing with himself. "Do you really think that their lives have any value in this disembodied state? Even if in fact they were made using human beings, are you capable of restoring them back to life…? Using what's left of them to create the philosopher's stone is the only way to give their sacrifices meaning…"

The young alchemist suddenly felt very tired, and old way beyond his years. He walked slowly to one of the large canisters, limping heavily, and gazed at his own reflection in the smooth glass. "I can't believe that…" he whispered. "Just because they don't have bodies doesn't make them any less human…If I believed that, then I would have to admit that my little brother isn't human either…and that's not something I could do."

"Who is more important to you then…these strangers, who cannot ever be released from this form, or your brothers…who can yet be saved…" By now, the voice had changed completely, going from forlorn to laced with malice, but Edward could no longer notice such a detail. He was too far gone within himself to notice…

He placed a trembling hand against the smooth surface, and a reflection of Alphonse as he was before the tragic events of that night stared back at him forlornly. He stroked the face of his younger brother. His vision blurred, and then it was the face of Alex as he was when they found out the truth only that day, his face bathed in the waning sunlight, a vision of despair. I am going to die…

No. These strangers were not more important than his family.

Edward's hand clenched into a fist, and with a shuddering breath, he climbed to the top of the canister with a moan of pain and a lot of effort. Standing atop it, he clapped his hands together and placed them on the ceiling, watching as a new transmutation circle was formed in the white glow of his alchemy, marking the smooth tiles with an image identical to the one on the floor.

It went against his conscience. It went against every fiber of his being that made him Edward Elric. But he would do this. For all the pain and suffering he caused in his arrogance to do something he knew was wrong and dangerous. For losing his baby brother's body and trapping him in a suit of amor, depriving him of the joys of life; depriving him of growing up, feeling pleasure and pain. For the family Alex lost, for the life he was taken from, for bringing him to this dangerous world and then cruelly leaving him to die. Edward would do this.

For his brothers.

Next chapter: Can he do this…? Can Ed really set aside his beliefs to save his brothers? Does he have it in him…?

Sighs…Oh Ed. Ed, Ed, Ed. We are so close to the finish line guys. I really don't have time to be writing, but here I am, ignoring my responsibilities and doing it anyway. I can't help it. The ending is so near, and this is the most massive self driven project I've ever gotten close to completing! And the great thing is, this is only the first book. Nice. I never thought I would get so passionate about this story, but here we are.

Anyway, Ed! Wake up! Stop being manipulated, you puny alchemist! And what the heck is up with Marcoh...strange...