"We received some very interesting information this morning."

Envy looked up from the head in his lap, eyes wandering over the collection of soldiers and alchemists that were gathered in front of Mustang's desk.

"All four of the individuals we apprehended at the lab where Raiden was made have killed themselves." Mustang leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk and interlacing his fingers. "We know it was some kind of poison, though the autopsies haven't been completed yet. We don't know how they did it."

Envy pursed his lips, thinking back to the researchers they had turned into Philosopher's Stones. It had been the most logical way to keep them silent, but he couldn't remember if they had ever had researchers so dedicated to them that they would kill themselves.

"We have to ask the question—" Hawkeye started, contemplative eyes focused on Mustang, "—did they kill themselves because they didn't want to give information, or did they kill themselves because they feared the consequences?"

"Or both," Breda muttered, giving the ground a scrutinous look.

Envy looked down at Raiden, who was coherent for the first time since his creation—other than the half-conscious slurring of his name when asked—and flicked him in the temple. "Looks like you're our best bet for figuring out what they were up to."

Raiden looked up at Envy, blue eyes wide, and then he let out a giggle. "I don't know what they were up to!" He reached up, grabbing Envy's ear and tugging on it. "I don't even know who you're talking about!"

Envy glared, grabbing the hand on his ear and jerking it away. "Don't do that." He kept his eyes narrowed, and as Raiden shrank back in fear, he heard the conversation next to him continue.

"If the scientists or researchers or whatever they were have killed themselves, can we assume they aren't very high up on the chain of command?" That sounded like Havoc.

"If there even is a chain of command. Maybe they were operating all on their own." That sounded like Breda.

"Hey, Raiden." That was Alphonse, who had broken away from the group and was approaching the sofa with a sickeningly kind smile. "Why don't you and I go for a walk and leave Envy alone for a little while?"

"Don't tell us what to do." There was no gap between the last word of Alphonse's sentence and the first word of Envy's. "I can handle my own brother." He almost growled, baring his teeth and feeling the vibration rising in his throat, but he stopped himself.

Alphonse blinked, seeming a little surprised by the response, but he recovered quickly. "Okay. Well… tell me if you change your mind."

"I won't." Envy pushed Raiden's hand aside but let it go, trusting his brother wouldn't try to grab his ear again. He gave a bit of his attention to the soldiers, who hadn't stopped talking, but half of his focus was still on Raiden and his odd behavior.

"Could the type of poison used give us some clues as to who is running things?" That sounded like Falman.

"Maybe we need to take a closer look at their personal lives. We could interview their families and try to find out how and when they got involved in this." That sounded like Fuery.

"Brother, are you ticklish? Because I am!" Raiden dug his fingers into Envy's sides, laughing to himself.

Envy froze, and while the contact aggravated his still healing burns, he didn't try to get Raiden to stop. Instead, he took in the sparkling blue eyes, wide with innocence despite the horrors his tiny lifespan had already put in his path. He heard the tittering laughter and cheerful but broken sentences, undimmed by the hours spent writhing on a hospital bed. He felt the joy—the complete and unadulterated elation—that had been in no particular way earned either by life circumstances or the person that blinding smile was currently directed at. It was pure, and honest, and warm, and soft, and heart-wrenchingly precious, and it was everything a homunculus was not supposed to be.

"You're a child." Envy muttered the words under his breath, his revelation pushing the gears in his head just enough to get them turning on their own.

Raiden blinked. "Huh?"

Envy took the boy's face in his hands, shaking him softly. "You're a child. That's why you're acting like this. You don't have one of the new Stones at your core, you have an older one, one made mostly or entirely out of children."

Raiden blinked twice.

"Envy, what are you going on about?" Mustang questioned, cutting off his subordinates in favor of listening to his captive.

Envy let go of Raiden's face, looking over at Mustang. "We went to investigate in the West because people were being killed, right?" He didn't wait for Mustang to confirm. "But nothing in the report mentioned a specific demographic. There's no way the military could have missed the fact that most if not all of the victims were children, and yet I'm certain Raiden is made of them."

Raiden tensed uncomfortably, his fingers curling through the fabric of Envy's shirt, but the older homunculus paid him no mind and continued to speak.

"Think about the way he's talking and acting. He's almost like Gluttony, but there's something more… innocent and naïve about it. Think about how completely he trusts us even though he barely knows us." Envy glanced down and then looked up again, meeting Mustang's gaze. "It makes sense tactically, too. Children are small and weak and easy to lure away from safety, making them easy to kidnap. Once you've made the Stone from them, there's even more advantages. Their minds are like sponges. They can be taught any number of things, and the traits their creator didn't like could be rewritten."

Edward's voice came from the far end of the room, where he was leaning back against a wall. "So, you're saying his actual Stone is… made up of little kids?"

"That's horrible," Alphonse muttered, a sickened expression on his face.

Envy waved it off. "Sure, sure, but that's not the important part."

"It's not important?" Edward exploded, that typical righteous anger flaring in his eyes.

"Of course not." Envy replied without hesitation, irritation slipping into his tone at the sentimentality, the sheer humanity of the outburst. "What is important is what that information means. We know Raiden's Stone wasn't made recently because children haven't been going missing or turning up dead, but we also know that at least one Stone was made recently."

Mustang seemed confused, but Hawkeye quickly caught on, following the statement to its obvious conclusion. "If Raiden's core was made from the old Stone, and it only takes five or six souls to make a body, then they made another Stone."

Edward growled to himself, glaring at the floor with a quiver in his fists. "Which means there's probably a lot more Stones than just those three. For all we know, neither of the most recent Stones were used to make Raiden."

Envy grinned. "You got it, Pipsqueak. Plus, it would explain how this guy managed to get from occasionally kidnapping easy targets to rapid-fire abduction of difficult targets."

"Practice," Edward muttered, disgust clear on his face.

Alphonse continued to chew on his lip, staring at the floor with his hands on his hips and a deep crease in his brow. "We have no idea how many they made, and with all of the wars the homunculi caused, it's going to be hard to tell which disappearances and deaths are a result of those conflicts or our suspects."

Havoc pulled his toothpick out of his mouth. "But we didn't find any additional Stones at the location, meaning someone took them."

"Exactly." Envy looked down at Raiden, and it was clear from the look on his face that he had no idea what they were talking about. "While we sit here discussing what we should do next, that someone already on his next move."

"Which is what?" Alphonse drummed his fingers on his hips. "He lost Raiden and his scientists."

"Did he?" Envy smirked. "He lost his lab rat and some scientists." He startled at the sound of Edward's boot striking a desk, and he couldn't help but tense up a bit until he knew the anger wasn't directed at him.

"You mean to tell me after all he went through, Raiden was just a test run?" Edward's fists shook at his sides, fury flashing in his eyes. "What was the point of making him then? Wouldn't that be a waste of the Stones?"

Confidence immediately regained, Envy held up two fingers and wiggled them. "First of all, depending on how many Stones he has, he might not have considered it a waste. Second of all, I don't know for certain Raiden was a test run. Maybe the guy in charge wanted him to be childlike because it would make him easy to manipulate. Father did the same thing with Gluttony. It doesn't mean this is the first time he's done this. But again, you're focusing on all the stuff that doesn't matter."

Edward opened his mouth, probably to scream, veins nearly popping out of his forehead.

"Because what you should have gotten from the information I just gave you is not that poor Raiden got used and thrown away like trash." Envy gave them all a grin. "No, what you should have gotten out of that information is that, if he was a test run, he was a successful test run. In other words, while you're busy throwing a childish tantrum over the notion of justice and human rights, someone out there is hard at working making another homunculus."

"Envy." Mustang glared from his place behind his desk, a dark look going into his eyes. "Don't get cocky."

Envy's gut reaction was to fight back, but he could still feel the burns on his body from the last time he had pushed Mustang too far. He opened his mouth to utter something resembling compliance, but he was cut off by Raiden struggling into an upright position. Raiden wrapped his arms around Envy and looked at Mustang with wide, confused, upset eyes.

"Don't do that," Envy muttered, trying to put some space between him and his brother. "It's not your fight. Just lay back down."

Raiden stared for a moment more, and then he reluctantly dissolved back onto the surface of the couch, his head resting on Envy's thighs.

"So," Mustang continued as though nothing had happened, "you said whoever our suspects were working for is making another homunculus right now?"

Envy offered a faint nod, absentmindedly running his fingers through Raiden's hair. "It makes the most sense. I don't know why he wants a new homunculus, but the one he tried to make is with us. I can only assume he's going to gather his resources and try again."

Breda put his hands on his hips. "If this group has more Stones than the ones we know about, how are we going to find out where they're making this new homunculus? They might not abduct any more victims beforehand."

"But they might," Havoc said. "They did when they made Raiden, even though it's possible they had enough Stones before they made him, so they might do the same thing when they create the next one." He put the toothpick back in his mouth, chewing on it in between words. "Maybe someone they're working with wants them to be caught. Maybe they're manipulating things to get a message out."

Edward spread his arms slightly. "Well, if that is the case, then we—"

Everyone stopped, turning towards the door as the handle began to turn, the wooden panel swinging in to reveal a decorated general with a chip on each shoulder and a mustachioed scowl beneath his nose.

"Colonel Mustang, we need a word with you and the homunculus."

Mustang arched a brow, rising from his chair. "Which one?"

"Envy," was the cold, detached response.

Envy narrowed his eyes, suspicious, but he didn't try to fight it. He eased Raiden off his lap and got to his feet, taking cautious steps toward the door and looking over his shoulder to ensure Mustang was coming.

"Havoc, Hawkeye, and Breda—" Mustang walked around his desk, moving toward the exit, "—I want you to look into murders with no discernable cause of death. Start with the West and move outward from there. Falman and Fuery I want you to investigate scientific establishments and see what their research has been centered around. Again, start with the West and move outward. Elrics, brush up on your knowledge of human transmutation, and keep an eye on Raiden."

There were responses from everyone in the room except Raiden, who simply sat on the couch and stared at Envy, and then it was Mustang and Envy trailing behind General Shoulder Chips, who led them down a long corridor.

Envy looked at Mustang, meeting his gaze and then faltering before making contact again. Where are we going? He spoke only with his eyes, hoping the colonel could offer him some sort of silent reassurance.

But Mustang only stared back, his expression clearly stating, I don't know.

Envy swallowed and looked the other way, nodding to himself and biting on his lip in an attempt to sate the anxiety swelling in his stomach. Of course not. That would be way too easy. He jumped ever-so-slightly when he felt a hand brush against his shoulder, violet eyes wandering back to the man he knew he had aggravated with his behavior not ten minutes earlier.

Mustang gave him a faint smile, tilting his head as if to say, Don't you trust me?

Envy thought about that for a moment, and he quickly decided that, as much as he hated it, he did trust Mustang to a certain extent. He trusted in that baffling concept of mercy, which had come from Mustang more than once. So, he turned to look at the general's back and then looked at Mustang again. It's not you I don't trust. He folded his arms over his midsection, as if protecting himself from an invisible assailant.

Mustang reached over and placed a hand on the small of Envy's back, applying just enough pressure to indicate he was the one leading them down the hall, not General Shoulder Chips. It's going to be alright.

Envy dropped his gaze to the floor. I hope so.

He really, really did.

"So, are we going to talk about this, or are you just going to sit there and stare vacantly into the middle distance?"

Envy hummed half-heartedly, shrugging his shoulders and continuing his endless observation of the kitchen wall. What is there to talk about? He wet his lips, fingers idly drumming against the tabletop as he stared at the tan paint. More importantly, what's the point of talking when it doesn't make a difference?

"Refusing to talk about it isn't going to make you feel any better." Mustang responded to the unspoken thought, his hands automatically going through the motions of washing the dishes from dinner.

Envy propped an elbow on the table and dropped his chin into his palm, sparing a glance at the colonel before looking at the wall again. Why on Earth would I want to talk to you? He thought it was a valid question, but his brain took the liberty of turning it over. He helped you when you had nightmares. Not that he wanted to think about that humiliating experience. But he practically cremated you for something you didn't do. But at the time, Mustang believed he had a good reason. Maybe—

"Envy?"

Sighing, the homunculus looked over and uttered a quiet, "I'm never going to be free again, am I?"

Mustang arched a brow, turning a plate over in his hands. "Were you under the impression that you would be?"

Snorting in lieu of an answer, Envy put his gaze back on the wall, staring for a few seconds before opening his mouth again. "Really, if you think about it, I've never been free." He tapped his chin. "I was jealous of Greed when he left. I wanted to know what it would feel like to be independent of Father's plan." He heaved a sigh and shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Silence settled over the kitchen, broken only by the sound of Mustang washing the dishes. Envy slipped back into his thoughts, going over what he considered to be the worst part of the conversation with General Shoulder Chips.

"You understand that you are property of the Amestrian Military, and that you shall henceforth obey any and all orders issued to you by the State without—"

"—through me."

"...yes, of course. Orders issued to you by the State through Colonel Mustang without objection or resistance?"

"Envy, we talked about this." There was a pause, but Envy was still staring at the wall, so he couldn't say what was on Mustang's face. "People like you and I don't get forgiveness. There are consequences that cannot be avoided, no matter how sorry we are or what we promise we'll do to make things right."

"So?" Envy felt his fingers curling, wanting to make a fist but being stopped by the fact that his chin was still in his hand, and he looked over at the colonel. "Does that mean I have to like it?" He almost pointed out that he had never said he was sorry, and he had never made a promise to make things right. He just… hadn't been as difficult as he could have been.

"No, I suppose it doesn't," was what Mustang said after about thirty seconds, his tone laced with something resembling sympathy. He put the last dish out to dry and turned away from the sink, leaning back against the counter and drying his hands on a towel. "What would you do with your freedom?"

Envy blinked. "Uh…" He blinked again, slowly dropping his hand. "I… don't know." He frowned slightly, mulling over the concept for a minute. "It'd be nice to travel. It's been a century or so since Father sent me out of the country." He wet his lips, debating how honest he wanted to be. "I, uh… I would kind of like to… find a secluded place somewhere where I can set up a… memorial of sorts… for my family. Nothing fancy. Just a… thing. Somewhere I can go when I…"

Miss them. But he didn't want to say that out loud. He probably shouldn't have said any of it out loud, and he blamed the display of weakness on the sudden presence of a new brother. It was messing with his head, making him think of his old siblings.

Envy stiffened, noticing a dark look on Mustang's face, and he quickly held his hands up in surrender. "Hey, don't get mad at me. You asked."

Mustang stared him down for a moment, anger battling with a cool, level-headedness on his face. "If you go to Hughes' grave and pay your proper respects, I will help you find a place to put your memorial."

Surprised and suspicious, Envy gave the colonel a scrutinizing look. "Really?"

Mustang nodded once, sharp and decisive.

"Hmm…" Envy considered the notion—considered why he even cared so much about something as sentimental and pointless as a memorial—and then he leaned back in his chair. "Okay. When do you want me to go?"

"Sometime after we sort out this homunculus business." Mustang wore that dangerous look on his face for a few more seconds, no doubt still thinking of his slaughtered friend, but then the expression faded. "Speaking of the homunculus business, do you have any thoughts on that?"

"I don't think I can give you much more than I already have until we hear what the others found out. I think our best bet is looking at the unsolved child abduction or murder case files. If we can find out where they began, maybe we can find out where they went from there." Envy ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I guess we should talk to Raiden, too. His brain might be child-like, but I'm sure all those kids remember where they grew up." He paused. "Hopefully. If not, our next best bet would be showing Raiden pictures of famous landmarks and seeing which ones invoke an emotional response."

Mustang nodded once. "I was thinking along similar lines." He pushed off the counter and let out a sigh, hanging the towel on the oven handle. "Well, it's time for both of us to get to bed."

Envy groaned and dragged himself to his feet, walking out of the kitchen and knowing Mustang would follow. His mind barely controlled his legs, immediately sinking into a contemplation of the conversation that had just happened.

What is wrong with me? I shouldn't be feeling any of these things. Is this—is this just because of my jealousy? I said I would like to travel, which would have been a good lie, but it wasn't a lie. But I shouldn't want that. I should want to go out and create chaos and destruction and suffering. I should want to start a war, like I did in Ishval. I should be out for blood. What is wrong with me?

He didn't know, but he got a sick, sinking feeling that it wasn't going to be getting better any time soon.

It took about a week, but their attention was drawn to some riots in the South centered around the events of the Promised Day. Several bodies had been recovered with no outward cause of death, and while the military hadn't determined if they died of something internal, it was suspicious enough that Mustang's team traveled down to investigate. They arrived, started searching, and… well…

"I can't tell. Is this worse than before?"

Envy combed his fingers through the long, black hair, pushing it out of the boy's face. "I don't know." He scowled, looking over the form on the hospital bed, taking in all the tape and gauze. "He's much more vocal, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's doing worse than Raiden."

Mustang nodded, his ungloved hand hovering above the boy's forehead. "I don't remember Raiden having a fever like this." He opened his mouth to continue but stopped short when the boy let out a wail. "Should we get him something to drink?"

Honestly, Envy wasn't sure, but he figured it couldn't hurt to try, so he shrugged and looked across the bed at the colonel. "Might as well give it a go."

Mustang grabbed a pitcher and a glass from beside the bed, pouring out a small amount. He put a hand on the boy's shoulder, Envy did the same on his side, and then they worked together to get him into a sitting position. It was a task that was only completed with the addition of bloodcurdling screams, and Envy had to wonder if a drink was worth it.

"Here. Try this."

Envy watched as the boy latched onto the glass, lapping up whatever fluid he could get onto his tongue. "So, how many scientists did we apprehend this time?"

"Only two. There was one more, but she escaped the building and had a vehicle waiting outside." Mustang emptied that little bit of water into the boy's mouth and then set the glass aside. "Hawkeye followed her in one of our cars, and the woman crashed into a building and was killed."

Pursing his lips, Envy helped Mustang ease the newly created creature back onto the bed. "Was it intentional?"

"We don't know." Mustang put his hands on his hips, still speaking with Envy but keeping his gaze on the homunculus. "He's not healing."

Envy leaned back in the bedside chair and folded his arms over his chest. "We don't know for sure that he isn't healing. It could be happening very slowly." He shrugged.

"We should have been more discreet." Mustang slipped his hand into his pocket. "They interrupted the process and threw him in that cage because they heard us coming. Now…"

Envy gave Mustang a look, opening his mouth to ask exactly where he thought he was going with that 'now.'

"Am I…?" Gasping, the boy turned blue eyes to Envy—blazing, bright blue eyes so intense they would have been frightening if they weren't so afraid—and then his body shuddered uncontrollably. "Am I gonna be okay?"

Envy smirked faintly. "You'll be fine. You aren't healing quickly, but you still have a Philosopher's Stone inside you." He reached out and brushed the boy's hair back again.

"That's… that's good…"

"Envy." Mustang nodded toward the door. "A word?"

Envy squinted, giving the colonel a suspicious look. "Sure," he said, sounding less than sure, and then he looked at the boy. "Get some sleep if you can. It'll help."

Nodding, the boy closed his eyes, his body still jolting and shaking from the amount of pain he was in. Envy slid onto his feet and followed Mustang out of the room, making a note of Havoc standing in the hall. Mustang turned around once they were out, facing Envy but waiting until the door swung shut to speak.

"I think it's unusually kind of you to give him hope, but you do understand how things are looking, don't you?"

Envy frowned, brow furrowing as he examined the other's countenance. "He has a Philosopher's Stone. Even if it doesn't adhere to him right away, an alchemist can use it to save him."

Mustang wet his lips and carefully continued, speaking as though the words were going to fall from his tongue and land on a thin sheet of glass. "That is certainly a possibility. But we've never seen a body like this, so it's also a possibility that we won't be able to do anything for him. He's conscious, not just an empty body, so we know the Stone must have fused somewhat, and we don't know how to sustain a body with that many conscious beings vying for control."

"It doesn't work that way." Envy was arguing before he even realized he was feeling angry. "Philosopher's Stones are above the laws of normal alchemy. That's how I'm still alive after everything."

"Envy, he is something that has never been seen before." Mustang opened his mouth to continue, paused, and then spoke again. "We can't guarantee that our medical efforts will be enough. We're doing everything we can, and his body is making some improvements, but—"

"He's a homunculus. He's going to be fine." Envy clenched his fists at his sides, eyes narrowing. "His body just needs time."

Mustang once again looked like he was going to talk and then stopped himself. He shook his head. "Alright."

Envy glared at him for a moment more, knowing the colonel had just ended the conversation because of its futility, and then he stormed back into the hospital room. He could tell from the stillness of the form on the bed that the boy had passed out, but honestly, that was probably the best thing for him. It was as close to sleep as the pain would let him get, and sleep was what he needed.

He's still a homunculus. Envy sat down in the bedside chair and stared at the boy, watching his chest slowly rise and fall. He's still one of us—one of me. He's gonna be okay. He clenched his jaw, pushing down any notions of worry or fear that Mustang's words had managed to create. You're one of us now. Welcome to the family, little brother.

"Envy?"

Eyes stared at the white linoleum, irises that were once a vibrant purple now muted by a thin haze of gray. Shadows moved across the floor, dancing around his shoes and the chair legs before coming to a stop in front of him. On the wall, the clock continued to tick, its ruckus being the only sound in the room for several moments.

"Envy."

Unmoving, the eyes continued to bore a hole into the floor—which he hadn't realized was so desperately in need of a mop—and the cloudy film grew thicker as the seconds passed. Hands dangled limply between two legs, fingers somewhat bent, connected to arms that were braced against motionless thighs.

"Envy."

For a second, there was nothing, but then he heard the creaking of the bed and realized Mustang must have sat down on it. Because it was empty. Because it wasn't needed anymore.

"Is this…" Envy barely got his mouth open, the words scraping their way up his throat. "Is this what it feels like?"

Mustang moved, but there was no answer. If it hadn't been for the creaking bedframe, Mustang could have shifted, and Envy would have been none the wiser.

"Is this…" Envy swallowed, watching as the stains on the white floor blurred. "When you… when you humans watch, and… you can't…" Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to continue, throwing out whatever words struck the front of his brain whether or not they were going to make sense. "You sit and watch… and you know what's coming, but you just… watch… because there's nothing you can do… so you just…" He reached up, tangling his fingers in his hair and gripping the black strands. "Is this what it feels like?"

Mustang didn't say anything for a moment, but when he did speak, his voice was soft and filled with a kind of compassion that made Envy's stomach turn. He had never heard the colonel speak that way—not with anybody, not ever—and he hated the fact that he needed that kind of coddling, but he couldn't do anything to stop it.

"Yes. This is what death feels like."

Envy felt his eyes water, and he quickly reigned himself in, still gripping his hair and focusing on the pinpricks of pain in the hope that he might keep himself from dissolving. "He just… faded."

They sat in silence for a moment, Envy struggling to keep his breathing steady while Mustang imitated a statue. More ticking from that irritating clock was the only thing to break up the stillness, and the lack of distraction wasn't doing Envy any good.

"I didn't know him." Envy dropped his hand from his head, letting it fall next to its twin between his legs. "I shouldn't care." He shook his head. "Even if I did know him, I shouldn't care. It doesn't make any sense. Why is this—?"

"You're mourning the death of your ignorance, not the boy." It stung, but there was no malice in Mustang's words. "It's like you said. He faded. You've killed, you've been killed, you've fought killers—your entire life has been strewn with violence—but that is not this. This is someone slowly succumbing to their own humanity, and you have never experienced that."

"It shouldn't matter." Envy lifted his head, eyes narrowed at the colonel who seemed to be at the root of all his problems. "This is your fault."

Mustang arched a brow. "How, exactly, is this my fault?"

"You're making me like you." Gritting his teeth, Envy rose from the chair and just barely managed to keep himself from grabbing Mustang by the jacket. "You're making me human!"

If the arched brow moved, it only got higher. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is a bad thing!" Envy walked to the right and stopped, pivoting on his heel and heading back the other way. "I'm a homunculus. I'm a superior being. I'm not supposed to care!" He continued pacing, reaching up and grabbing his hair. "I've spent so much time with you—so much time with this useless, weakened Philosopher's Stone—that it's going to my head and twisting everything around!"

Folding his arms over his chest, Mustang gave Envy an unimpressed look. "You do realize I can see right through you, correct?"

Envy whirled on the spot. "What's that supposed to mean?" he snarled.

"You're jealousy." Mustang tapped his index finger on his bicep, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone that really got under Envy's skin. "You love to talk about how superior you were and how you're nothing like us, but that doesn't leave you with a lot to be jealous of, does it?"

Taking a step back, Envy felt the sensation of dread start to coil through his chest. "So? Just because I wasn't—"

"You couldn't be jealous for power because you already had power. You couldn't have been jealous for money because you had more than money could ever buy. You couldn't be jealous for health or looks or strength because you had unlimited access to all those things." Mustang closed his eyes, finger still tapping against his arm. "But what didn't you have?"

"Shut up." Envy clenched his fists at his sides, knowing where Mustang was going and wanting to do everything in his power to keep from being faced with what he—loathingly, disgustedly, repulsively—knew to be true. "Shut up!"

"You didn't have humanity." Mustang shrugged, opening his eyes. "You didn't have the community and the family and the caring. You didn't have the connections that we do. You didn't have the ability to overcome things no mortal creature should be able to overcome."

"That's enough!" Envy reached out to grab Mustang by the throat, but he pulled his hands back at the last second. I can't attack him. I'll lose.

Mustang snorted, laughing as if he were dealing with the height of irrationality. "It's a logical progression, and I know how much you like logic. You wanted what you didn't have."

"I never wanted that!" Growling, Envy stared the colonel down, heart hammering in his chest. "I shot an Ishvalan child in the head to start a war. I disguised myself as Father Cornello to instigate riots in Liore. I killed Hughes, and you think I'm jealous of you?"

Mustang spread his arms, incredulous. "Why are you so insistent that you're not?" He rose to his feet, considerably calmer than his opponent. "Why does it bother you so much to—?"

"Because you're beneath me!"

"Are we?" Mustang put a hand on his hip. "We beat you. We beat your creator. We won, even though we had a severe disadvantage, and you still can't admit that there's benefits to humanity?"

Envy froze, swallowing hard. He trembled, heart still burning, and the sensation of being cornered was starting to spread through his body. He took a half step back, eyes wide, and he shook his head. "It's not—you're not—" He sucked in a breath, overwhelmed by the urge to look away. "You are nothing compared to me."

"I could incinerate you without a second thought." Mustang reached out and grabbed Envy's chin, pulling it up and meeting his gaze with a level stare. "You're the one who's nothing, Envy. You're a half-dead homunculus who can't regenerate, or shapeshift, or change into a towering monster. All you can do is follow basic orders and try to function day in and day out."

Glaring, Envy struggled to breathe, shoulders heaving. "I'm not—" He reached up and shoved Mustang's hand away. "You're—" He clenched his jaw, eyes stinging. "It's not—" He reached out and grabbed Mustang's jacket, trying to drag him down so they were on the same level. "You can't—"

Everything shifted, colors blurring as he was thrown onto the bed, Mustang's hand clenched tightly around his throat. He gripped the blue jacket tighter, watching Mustang lift a gloved hand in preparation to snap.

"Do it!" Envy twisted the fabric in his hands. "Kill me! Just kill me already!"

Mustang stared him down for at least a minute, coal black eyes not telling the homunculus anything about his intentions. He lightened his hold slightly, but his fingers were still in position, and then a faint smirk pulled on the corner of his mouth.

"I can't kill you now. You haven't learned your lesson." He slid his hand from Envy's throat, peering down. "You know the truth. You're going to concede to it eventually."

Envy growled.

"Until then, I'll keep you alive." Mustang grabbed Envy's wrists and pulled his hands off his jacket. "But before I lock you up and let you think about what your core is made of, we need to figure out our next move."

Fisting the bedsheets, Envy slowly sat up. He never stopped glaring, but he didn't say or do anything. He just slid to his feet and moved toward the door to the hospital room.

"Don't do anything you'll regret, Envy."

Envy walked out and slammed the door. Immediately, he was followed by Mustang, who of course couldn't leave him alone. He ignored the footsteps trailing behind him, sinking into his thoughts, trying not to shake from the sheer rage and pain coursing through him.

Just think, a few weeks ago, you were jealous and wanted Mustang's attention. He pushed the thoughts down bitterly, but shoving the conversation out of his mind led him to the facts that had brought the conversation on in the first place.

They killed him. They gave him a body that didn't work. His fists trembled at his sides. Humans lose to death. I don't. He glared at nothing, daring anyone he passed to ask him what was wrong. I'm going to find them. I'm going to find them, and I'm going to make them rue the day they ever thought of making a homunculus.

He thought back to the fury that had run through his veins when Lust was killed. He thought of the words he had screamed at Wrath. He thought of the insatiable desire to get Mustang's blood on his hands for the act of murdering his sister.

No more games. I'm going to find this group, and I'm going to annihilate them. And, no matter what Mustang said, he wasn't going to feel an ounce of humanity while he did it.

"So, what's our next move?"

Envy glanced up from the piece of cake in front of him, eyes drawn to the shortest of the team gathered around the table. "We repeat the step we just did. We got the right location using that method, we just didn't find them in time. Now we repeat ourselves and fix the problem."

Edward shoved a forkful of pie into his mouth. "Okay, but how do we do that?" Another forkful, muffled words working their way around a wad of food. "We talk to Raiden again—"

"I talk to Raiden again."

"Yeah, whatever." Edward waved it off. "Raiden goes through the missing persons reports from cities in the west and points out people he recognizes—or, I guess, the souls inside him recognize—and then we find a point where a lot of those reports converge. We do that, we've got our city, but then what?"

Envy shoved the remainder of his dessert into his mouth, staring Edward down as he chewed. "Easy. We bring Raiden with us this time and see if he recognizes any landmarks or buildings. We'll split into groups this time to cover more ground. Once we know what location we're approaching, we go full stealth mode and get on the inside somehow."

Drumming his fingers on the rim of his teacup, Alphonse stared at the center of the table and whispered, "He didn't even have a name…"

There was silence around the table, distorted by the bustling sounds of the other café patrons and broken up by the occasional scraping of a utensil or sip of a drink.

"I went to school with a Luther," Havoc murmured. "Nice kid. Looked kinda like our boy. He grew up to be a… a doctor, I think."

Every set of eyes wandered over to look at the lieutenant, and then Mustang raised his coffee mug. "To Luther."

Edward, Hawkeye, Havoc, Falman, Fuery, Breda, and Alphonse copied the gesture, though in Edward's case he had to raise a plate. "To Luther!"

Envy glanced around the table, hesitated, and then lifted his own glass. "To Luther."

To Lust, to Greed, to Raiden, and most importantly, to the utter destruction of the scumbags who thought they could do this and get away with it.

Author's Note: If you like my writing style, you should check out my website! I post updates about the different things I'm working on, including fanfiction and original works. does not allow links in profiles or stories, but if you message me, I can tell you how to get there. Or you can go to my other fanfiction pages, like AO3 and Wattpad, and follow the link from there! I hope to see you on the site!