December 6th, 1996

Anika had not been called upon to testify, but that did not stop her from attending the day of trial and sentencing for Marjorie Volkhart and Vera Kollan. She wanted to see it through, and to support her husband as he testified once again regarding Vera's history and her actions during the battle, and the information uncovered by Clarina Harper, as well as Clarina's death.

Sitting in the tiered seats, watching from beside Charisa Closson, a couple of rows behind the world leaders present, Anika hoped it would all be over soon. She was not sure what outcome to hope for, but she could not imagine that either would be found innocent, or come out any less harshly than if they had only been tried in the Amestrian courts.

Volkhart was first. The woman, looking dignified despite prison uniform, came into the room and took the stand. The information from the previous trial was gone over in fairly short order, and she was permitted to speak for herself.

Anika had witnessed many of the trials that had occurred in Drachma since the Civil War, if only because sections of them had been televised, and Niki had sent her recorded tapes of several of the major ones of interest, more than had been re-aired and covered in the Amestrian news broadcasts.

Volkhart did not look defeated, nor did she look arrogant. There was an air of dignity around the woman despite her circumstances. "I know what you all must think of me," she began when given the stand to speak freely, after the line of questioning, during which no new surprises came out. "And I know it is perhaps, too late to change your minds and to convince you that the actions on which I followed through were according to a code of ethics of many who hoped to repair what is wrong with this country and improve the lives of all citizens who still suffer under inadequate current systems. I do regret that the actions were necessary, but I will not beg. I will not plead. I will not pretend I did not feel them necessary for the betterment of our society. I do not seek forgiveness, though I do regret any who were unnecessarily harmed by my actions." Her eyes, very briefly, flicked to Tore Closson, then around the room again. "None of the violence that followed in my failure was ever in the plans of which I was apprised. I trust, by now, you have unrooted all the data you need yourselves to confirm that statement. I can only hope, now, that in having all of the facts of the situation brought to light on the international stage, the concerns that I and many others have long had will finally be addressed in Amestris, and across the continent."

Volkhart was returned to her seat, while the judges went to deliberate. The room was quiet in the way that a waiting crowd is quiet, yet not, with the soft murmur of whispered conversations filling the space, until it was not possible to fully distinguish enough of any particular phrases to follow other conversations except those in the immediate vicinity.

Anika considered asking what Charisa thought might happen, but it would only be conjecture. They would know the results in fairly short order. So far, the longest deliberations had been over those with the least amount of evidence in either direction. There was little chance the original verdict would be overturned, but always the possibility of more severe sentencing. At the least, the original sentence would most likely stand.

And so it turned out to be, as they returned. It was the judge from Xing who stood to find Volkhart guilty of being a traitor to Amestris for her attempted murder of Jerome Anastas and Tore Closson—the first being pre-meditated—and years of plotting to destabilize and take over the military, and the overall government. The decision of the court to make an example of such heinous treachery, so that others who might be tempted to attempt such actions in any other country would see that the continental accord nations would not put up with it. Terrorists and traitors would be dealt with according to the severity of their crimes.

Marjorie Volkhart's final sentence was execution. She would join a short but notable list of others. Then it was time for the final hearings, regarding Vera Kollan, formerly the Ultraviolet Alchemist. First to the stand, was General Felix Tringham, who was there on behalf of Clarina who, having been killed, could not report on her own findings as a spy. Tringham summed up the points brought up at previous points in the hearings regarding information that had come to light about her involvement in pushing for the attacks on the trains, and Resembool, before covering what Clarina had reported on Vera's mental state, and what plans had been uncovered regarding the attack on Central, where he confirmed how information had passed between them, and how they had been able to prepare countermeasures for the locations that had been divulged to Clarina. It had been critical. He ended it with Clarina's attempts to stop Vera and sacrificing herself which, rather painfully, included the autopsy report and an alchemical analysis of the poison.

Anika's insides twisted and wriggled as she watched Ted step up to the stand next. Some of it was tension and nerves, and other movements were surely the baby. A life that Clarina had sacrificed herself for; that Ted and Tore had risked theirs to save. That Anika had been willing to kill to protect.

For all the anxiety she knew Ted had about today, and the entire situation, he looked calm and professional, if far more serious than usual, as he spoke about helping Twilight and General Heimler with the fight at the park before hearing about Vera's appearance at the zoo and running the distance to come save her. He spoke about arriving in time to hear Vera's reveal of her powers, and see Clarina take the hit for Anika. Then he spoke about the fight itself, up until Closson's arrival.

When he stepped down, he was followed by Closson himself, coming down from his seat. It was the only time during the entire proceedings the President of the Military had been called on to testify. For Volkhart they had used the written statements from the original trial. Tore covered several points regarding information about Vera and how it had been acted upon, ending with his own arrival on the scene and how he had managed to vanquish her, without killing her, by holding back the full force of his attack to only wear her down. The explanation given of how to deal with a homunculus was very possibly the first time many people in the room had heard it. Anika only knew because she had watched, and then Ted had explained it later in more detail.

When he returned to his seat, it was the defense's turn. Vera appeared; hands bound behind her back. Without the tail, she looked normal enough. The assigned defense made Vera's case, before she was called upon to take the stand, discussing her grievances against the State, and the State Alchemist's program, as well as the reasons behind her actions as she had put them so far.

Vera did not look like a woman facing the executioners. That was the first thing Anika noticed. Vera looked unnaturally calm, and even smiled slightly at some of the crowd. With what Ted had said last night about his attempt to talk to her, Anika would believe that the woman had long ago lost whatever true moral compass she had. Except that she had done everything consciously, and it had all been thought out. She was not incompetent, just horrifically dangerous.

There was also the question of whether or not she still qualified as human, but the trial seemed to be choosing to go forward on the presumption she was still human enough to be treated as such.

When she finally got the opportunity to speak, Vera looked uncomfortably triumphant as she looked around the room. Her eyes caught on Ted for several long seconds, then looked up at her. Anika met them back with a firm, hard gaze, refusing to look away. Vera answered all of the questions asked with the same forthrightness and lack of sympathy or tact Anika had come to expect.

Yes, she wanted justice against the state for the misrepresentation and misuse of State Alchemists, the death of Larry Pullman and the lack of military action in that regard in not disciplining those who slacked in their duties and led to death and damages that had been avoidable. She admitted to getting involved with the group publicly now known as Arsenic to further those ends, and to having been the mastermind behind all of the attacks, and the majority of the new alchemical weapons used to pull them off. She admitted to having picked targets directly because of who they were and their family. The Drachman train, because it held Elrics. Resembool, for the obvious reasons. Creta had been part of the plot to convince the other Arsenic leadership that those attacks were the best way to make their point and bring the Amestrian government under control more quickly. She admitted to having planned the attack on Central, and purposefully not telling anyone about her plan to go to the zoo. The attack on the rugby field had been planned, but she hadn't given those fighters that command until the morning of, to avoid having it leaked. It was all distraction, all targeted revenge. Even turning herself into a human-based homunculus, risking her own death. There was not a note of apology or contrition in her voice. There was plenty of egotistical confidence that her alchemy would succeed.

"If I've proved nothing else, it's that your State Alchemy program is a sham. You will never be able to brainwash young alchemists into believing your propaganda again."

When the questioning ended, they led her back to her place and the judges once again stepped out to make their decisions, and the room buzzed until they returned.

This time one of the Aerugean judges stood to announce the verdict. "This Court finds Vera Kollan guilty on all charges of premeditated murder, destruction of persons and property of Amestris, Creta, and the G.R.I.D., treason against the governments of Amestris, Creta, and the G.R.I.D., collusion with known terrorists, and breaking several alchemical laws also crossing international lines, as outlined in the charges, including the creation of a homunculus, human transmutation, and use of illegal and unsafe alchemical substances in the creation of weapons. The unanimous decision of this court is that the appropriate punishment for these offenses is execution. Due to the altered biological nature of the defendant and her unique physiology, the precise method of execution will be determined through consultation with experts to find the most efficient and human option, and it will be carried out with expedience."

Anika could not help watching Vera as she sat there, accepting her fate without a word of complaint. It probably just reinforced her world view, Anika thought, that she was being put to death for her actions and beliefs.

As the proceedings finished, people began to stand up and leave. Anika moved to the edge of the room, and waited for Ted to join her. She watched Charisa make her way to where her husband and the other leaders were gathering. Her father had promised to join them again this evening, but only when his responsibilities as a representative of the G.R.I.D. were over.

"Well, that's it," Ted said as he took her hand in his. "I need to report in to Tringham's office, but after that I am under orders to be out of sight and away from the press for a while. Want to get out of here?"

"I was going to ask you that," Anika admitted, squeezing his hand. "It's been an emotional day, and Eurion and Nikolai would be thrilled to spend some time with us that isn't bedtime. Maybe we can play a game."

"That sounds like a great idea." Ted looked like he wanted to kiss her, but it wouldn't do here, essentially in public, on duty. "We can pick up a snack on the way home."

The day wasn't over, though Tore wished it could be. All of this left him so very tired and wrung out, but he still had responsibilities. One item coming up imminently was a selective meeting to discuss the appropriate execution method for Vera. Tore was dreading that one because, deep down, he already knew their options were incredibly slim. That meeting would involve his international colleagues, the judges, and representatives of the State Alchemists and the Assembly. The second would be the promised press conference over the outcome of the cases.

Charisa reached him almost at the same moment that Caroline Flynn nodded and said, "It's time to head to the meeting, General. Are we ready?"

Tore looked at Flynn first. "Yes. Let's get this done." He held out his arm to his wife. She was not only his wife, but a senior member of the Assembly. There was no reason to not include her, and her presence was a comfort.

Charisa took his arm as if it were just a chivalrous gesture, and not a desperate reach for a life raft in a sea of emotions he was fighting to keep tightly under wraps until this was over. Finally, it was almost done. The rest of the dismantling of Arsenic would be handled by his subordinates. "You don't look pleased," Charisa commented softly as they walked, the others in the hall around them chatting quietly and paying little attention.

"There was no outcome in this situation that would make me feel any pleasure," Tore admitted just as quietly. "It had to happen this way. We knew it would likely come out like this, but that does not make the reality any easier to stomach. We're about to execute someone who was once under my command. She was one of us: an alchemist, a colleague, a friend. And I don't know where the system failed her, but we lost her. The Ultraviolet I knew was not this person. She was tough, and vibrant, and passionate, and she cared about other people, but she hated killing unnecessarily." This person was lost, broken, mentally unstable. Even if what she claimed was partially true, this had not been a rational way to go about fixing things. She had been losing herself for a very long time. He wished it had not come to this.

Especially given the most probable solutions. As the meeting reconvened in his private conference room that was normally reserved for the Senior Staff, or war counsels that he thankfully had not yet had to convene in his own tenure, he presented the unpleasant truth before them.

"I will come right out and start this by getting to the point," he said without preamble. "We have sentenced a woman to execution who chose to use alchemy to modify herself so dramatically that her biology, however human seeming, is no longer entirely so. As our previous notes have stated, a homunculus is not a normal mortal. They have what you might call a mostly, or partially, immortal body. Which is to say that they have incredible healing powers, resistance to many things that would kill a normal person, and will continue to regenerate no matter how thoroughly they are destroyed until you can use up the entire power source. In this case, a philosopher's stone in some form."

The phrase elicited several small gasps throughout the room, mostly from the judges. Only the few alchemists in the room, and the Senior Speaker of the Assembly, did not look shocked. Even Charisa, who knew, looked pinched. It had been decades since anyone had seen a philosopher's stone. The fact that Vera had managed to recreate the red elixir needed to inject herself was astounding as a feat of alchemy in itself. Only a very small number of living people knew how it was done.
"Then how do you propose to execute her humanely?" Thrakos Argyros asked the question everyone needed answered.

Tore swallowed. "With the analysis of the poison from her own body, we know that injection won't work. She can't be hung, or shot. Drowning would take far too long. The only way to take out a homunculus is to burn them out until they can't regenerate anymore. That's how I weakened her enough for us to take her captive in the first place. If we wait too long, she will begin to regain strength, and it will just be worse. We need to hit her with the most powerful alchemical strike, or strikes, that we can, to minimize cruelty. Ideally one very long, sustained burst of very powerful energy should do it."

There were some realizations coming on several faces.

Gavril Mihalov looked at him sharply. "Like electrocution? But on a much stronger level than would be needed for a regular person."

"Electrocution is an option." Tore nodded, his mouth a little dry. "A lightning strength blast or several would certainly do it. Fire has been used to great effect in the past, but would likely be more painful."

"A combination of both is also an option," Tringham suggested from his spot at the table next to the Xingese judges.

Tore wondered at that suggestion. Tringham seemed determined to push a solution that did not end up placing the execution of Vera squarely on Tore's shoulders. Which was, of course, because the Genesis alchemist knew that Tore would never put it on another alchemist with a similar focus. Live Wire was a healer. It would break her to have to execute someone. Besides, he had just heard that she was very newly pregnant. None of the others had the strength for killing strikes like Tore did.

In fact, as far as destructive force went, there was only one other alchemist in the State Alchemist department who could match Tore for this, and that was Firestorm. A man who had just lost his father. Who was trying to take care of his family on top of duty, who—in Tore's opinion—did not need this on top of everything else.

One of the Cretan judges looked contemplative. "So, am I right in understanding that, based on this assessment, there are only a small number of alchemists capable of performing this execution to international standards, and you are one of them?"

"That is correct." Tore nodded. "Much as it pains me to consider having to perform this act, I am willing to be your executioner should it be the best course of action as decided by the court. My only request is that we do not publicize who the executioner is, or the final method. It does not serve any of us for that to be widely known." With most executions, the executioner was not known either. People would certainly suspect, but he would rather not have the entire country thinking about the fact that the leader of their military was an executioner. To take someone out in cold—or hot—blood with alchemy; perhaps Roy Mustang had been willing to let people believe it of him, but Tore wanted a more… stable reputation. A lot had changed since Flame's time.

Thankfully, his statement brought nods of agreement around the room. "We will make the final determination," one of the Drachman judges assured him. "General Tringham has provided us the list of options, and alchemists he believes could perform the needed transmutations in a variety of options. Do we need to have more discussion, or have we come to a determination?" he looked around the room.

When did you do that? Tore looked at Tringham, who gave a small shrug.

The nods and voices of consent around the room made it clear that this had been discussed in its pre-decided stages too, if only then as a possibility so they would not have to deliberate over-long about the appropriate forms of execution for a homunculus.

The senior most Amestrian judge nodded. "With all respect, General Closson, we concur that the most appropriate skills for the task, belong to you. It is a nasty business to have to execute someone in any fashion that is as violent as this one must be, but you will give her a quick and dignified death."

At least it was decided. Tore nodded. "When will it be?"

"Three days from now. It will give us the time to prepare and handle formalities."

"All right. Three days it is."

Charisa had not been prepared for the speed with which it was determined that her husband would be responsible for killing a former colleague. The fact that he had pushed for it did not surprise her. Tore would want to spare anyone else the heartache and agony of having to look Vera in the fact and then carry out her sentence.

It would tear Tore apart inside just as much, but he would take that on himself. She ached for him, but she had not tried to talk him out of it, even though she had suspected it would come to this. The next couple of days would be difficult, but the ones immediately after would be worse.

Still, she could not help but be incredibly proud of him every time he stood up and handled the situations that had been thrown at him his entire life, not even just in his career. When he wasn't President of the Military, when he wasn't a General, when he was hardly a State Alchemist; he had fought when he had to, fled when he had to, struggled to survive when he had to. Tore might bend, he might get battered, but he rarely broke. Even then, it was temporary.

And she would be here, beside him, to comfort and support her husband through what would be a very difficult day. The decision to offer himself had already plagued him for days.

When the meeting ended, there was still the press conference, and Charisa followed along again, still on Tore's arm until they reached the press room. He clearly wanted her there; despite the loose and casual way he held his arm out for her. He had long ago learned the behaviors needed to be a convincing General, but he had taken up the mantle of President of the Military with incredible speed, mastering a lot in a functionally short amount of time. He looked natural in the position now, as if he had been born and raised for it.

Of course, given what had just happened on his watch, and the fact that Central still stood, perhaps he had earned a little of that swagger.

Roy had not said a word to Trisha about his plans. He knew, if he did, she would try to stop him. The same of his mother, sisters, and children. They would call it reckless, or foolish, or an act of grief.

Perhaps it was all those things, but it was also something Roy had to do.

He was waiting at the President's office when Shock returned from giving his press conference to the media. He didn't know what had been said, but everyone inside Headquarters already knew the outcome. It had been inevitable really.

He hadn't expected Charisa to be with Shock, though perhaps he should have today. From the entirely unsurprised look on Shock's face, he, at least, seemed to have been expecting Roy.

"Excuse me, Sir. Can I have a moment of your time?"

Shock nodded. "Of course, Firestorm. In my office." He entered, and Roy followed. The door closed behind them. At which point Closson's shoulders dropped just a little, the formal stance releasing. He turned and looked at Roy. "Permission to speak freely, Roy. You're here about the execution, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir. I wanted to volunteer my skills for the execution. I know what's needed to kill a homunculus."

"You realize what you're asking." The tone was firm, but not skeptical. It was also not a question. "This is killing in cold blood. Not self-defense. Not the battlefield. Without the official orders it's just murder itself."

"I know that, Sir, but it's also justice." Roy swallowed. This sounded very much like the prelude to a firm no. "And it requires specifically applied, tightly controlled, high amounts of alchemical energy. This isn't a regular enemy, and regular methods are useless. Who else would you get? I'm the strongest alchemist you've got."

"They've already chosen someone else to carry out the sentence. It's not you."

Already? Roy refrained from letting his hands clench. They remained open. He wanted to ask who it was, but within the Shock Alchemist's expression, Roy read the truth. "You? They're going to let you do it?"

"Let is an inaccurate word, but yes, it's my assignment." Shock sighed. "I get why you want this, Roy, but I won't put it on anyone else, and I'm who they chose. Though that won't be advertised publicly. No one else needs to be the executioner in this case. I don't want to do it, but she was my responsibility, and the safety of the country is my responsibility. Better on my hands than anyone else's soul. Though I admit, I was expecting you to show up."

Roy frowned. "I don't agree. You're the highest-ranking officer in the military. This isn't a job for a President."

"A matter of opinion." Shock shook his head. "A leader does not foist off the hard jobs o subordinates. I would not order someone else to do this."

"It's not an order if someone else wants the job."

Shock's expression lowered. "Does Trisha even know you're here?"

"No, she doesn't."

"I see." He shook his head. "We're all grieving, Roy, but taking her out won't heal wounds, or fill the holes of what we've lost."

"Why do you assume this is about revenge?" Roy didn't mean to snap, but the words came out sharply. "Or healing? I'm here to do my duty. Use me."

"I did." Shock pointed out. "You did your mission admirably. You always do."

"Then, let me do it with you," Roy suggested, trying to keep Shock from just ending it and sending him on his way. "Both of us, together. It would be faster, more power, and less chance of her suffering."

Shock paused for a moment, at least thinking over those truths. "I'm not sure the Court would approve it. Though nothing we do can be considered overkill when it comes to homunculi. Still, they chose me out of the entire list of options Genesis provided." He went silent again for a minute. "You're really sure you can do this? You're ready to live with the truth and guilt of killing a woman in cold blood? Because no matter what you might think now, you will find it will change you. You will never be the same. It's not like killing on the battlefield."

"As if you're one to talk." Roy couldn't help scoffing. "You've never been ordered to murder someone helpless…. Have you?" A small niggling dread stirred in him. The military of his grandfather's time had given those orders. His grandfather, as he understood it, had never forgiven himself for the atrocities he had committed on orders from his superiors. It was what had driven him to attempt a coup against this very country.

Was Vera so different? Of course, she is, his mind insisted. Vera didn't care who got hurt as long as she got her revenge. The Flame Alchemist had done everything he could not to kill anyone he didn't have to. Homunculi had been an exception. He had killed them with extreme prejudice.

Vera was the reason Roy's father was dead. He knew that being part of this would not erase his pain. It would not make him feel better. It was just something he felt, in his gut, he needed to do.

"I am prepared." Roy replied, meeting Shock's gaze. "Don't make yourself do this alone, Shock. At least, have someone to share the burden with."

"I'll speak with the Court." Tore finally agreed. "I can't make any promises, but I do need a guard with me tomorrow—a second—and the only people watching the execution will be representatives of the Court to see that it's carried out, and the prison administrator. They're aware that, with a homunculus, there almost certainly won't be enough of anything left to make a post-death identification, so the witnesses are needed. That said, I want your word that you will tell no one that you are involved. Neither to confirm or deny."

Roy's first thought was that it was a perfectly logical condition, until he realized a moment later what Shock meant. "Not even Trisha?"

"Not even Trisha." Shock nodded. "Not before, because the exact time of the execution is not being advertised, to help keep it vague as to who performed the execution. After… well, maybe a few days after. For the same reasons. I trust Whisper not to let out state secrets, but the more people who know, the worse it will get."

Nothing was going to make him change his mind now. "Understood, Sir."

"They might say no," Shock pointed out. "In which case, I expect you to act as if we never had this conversation at all and go about your life."

"Understood." It would be difficult, but if the courts refused to add him then there was nothing, he could do outside of breaking in there and scorching her himself and that crossed all sorts of lines he wasn't willing to step over, no matter what. "When will I know?"

"You'll know if Tringham assigns you to my security detail tomorrow morning."

"I'll be ready."

Edward returned from his walk to the smell of a hot mutton stew wafting through the house. Shaking the light snow off his coat, and trying not to shiver, he took off his coat and hung it up, before sitting down at the bench by the door to remove his boots. The dogs, coming in right behind him, headed straight for the fireplace to lay in front of and dry off. "Dinner smells great," he said when he saw Winry sitting at the table, looking over a magazine.

"It will be ready soon." Winry looked up, and smiled. "How was your walk?"

"Brisk." Edward chuckled. In truth, winter walks were the hardest. His ports ached, though not as bad as they had thanks to his son's years of developing medication designed to help with pains like his. "I look forward to getting warm."

"There's tea on if you need something immediate," Winry offered. She stood up and joined him. "Though I'm a little surprised you wanted to walk on a day like today. You were out for quite a while. How far did you go?"

"We did five miles." The snow wasn't deep, in fact there was barely an inch on the ground. Most of it had just been blowing lightly around in the air, which made a festive scene. The very light breeze had meant it didn't feel as cold as it could have. "Most of that was just in to town and back." He didn't tell her that had included a couple of stops for secret pre-winter holiday shopping. The dogs were always willing to sit patiently outside stores. Everyone in Resembool recognized them and left them alone except to pet them. "It's too bad Alphonse only made it three," he spoke up louder, so his brother on the couch could hear him. "The mountain trail was really beautiful."

"We can't all be crazy, Ed!" Alphonse quipped back with a laugh. He looked over the couch. "You should come join me. The evening news is about to start."

"I'm coming." Edward slipped his house slippers on over dry socks, and went into the kitchen to pour tea. He was actually very interested in the outcome of today's final day of deliberations and sentencing. The whole idea of an international court fascinated him, and he was impressed with how well it had come together. As much as he would have loved to have been in Central, seeing it in person, it was good to be home, safe, and not feeling like they might get attacked at any moment.

When he joined Alphonse, his brother was still on the couch, his long legs up on an ottoman, and covered in a green fuzzy throw blanket. In turn, the blanket was weighted down by nearly every cat in the house. If anyone was happy to be home, it was the cats. Alphonse had his own cup of tea, and a small plate of cheese and crackers. While his brother was, in fact, doing much better after his near-death experience, it had definitely taken its toll, and as much as the brothers teased each other, Edward was just relieved that Alphonse was doing better and continuing to regain his stamina and energy. He wasn't back up to sparring yet, but they could at least work through forms at partial speed, and take longer walks.
Edward sat down next to him, and pulled over the red fleece throw from the back of the couch to throw over his own legs. "Have I missed anything important?"

"So far commercials for products we don't need, an ad for Ian's next movie, and a regional weather report that says that we should expect it to be cold and that there will be a little more snow probably this month."

"I'm shocked. Snow and cold in December?" Edward snorted, and stole a piece of cheese off Alphonse's plate. "Amazing how we need someone on the television to tell us what my ports will tell me without having to look at a thing. Or, you know, just watching what nature's doing." Resembool farmers could tell the weather up to days in advance, and sometimes what to expect in a season, just from watching the wildlife and the plants. Besides, weather came in patterns. It might vary from year to year, but it had cycles. December was cold, and generally wet. Everyone prepared for it and just expected it. Then there was, of course, the aches and pains he'd had even since he was a teen, thanks to his own poor life choices.

"What do your ports say about our snow accumulation?" Alphonse asked with a chuckle.

"Maybe two inches by morning, then nothing but flurries for the rest of the week," Edward replied without hesitation. Of course, he could be wrong, but the air wasn't all that wet, and the accumulation was slow. He'd watched it for several hours today.

The warmth of the blanket began to thaw him, and Edward sighed as he leaned back and sipped his tea. It was a dark, fruity flavor today, mixed with local honey. Winry or Elicia generally chose whatever was in the tea pot on any given day. Edward had learned to like most of them.

The news report finally came on, and Edward focused his attention on the screen as the national coverage first discussed more regular matters before getting to the main story of the evening. Both Marjorie Volkhart and Vera Kollan had been found guilty of treason and given death sentences. This was followed by a clip covering the press conference Tore had apparently given earlier, with Gavril Mihalov, Vichel Marskaya, and Thrakos Argyros also in attendance. A unified international front.

"These court proceedings have been a first in the history of all of our nations," Tore's words came across the screen as he stood at the podium, looking out at the crowd. "All nations coming together, with a common goal of justice and peace. It has been a successful demonstration of our ability to work together, and support each other. We would particularly like to thank the governments of Aerugo, Xing, and Kartos for sending us some of their finest legal minds to assist in the matter, as well as those from our own countries. All of the expertise in these proceedings has impressed me. Justice has been served, and while the outcomes are those more for somber reflection than celebration, we can all rest a little easier knowing that one major threat has been laid to rest. Anyone else who may think that this is the best way to make changes, will now hopefully think twice, and likely more than that, before taking on the unified governments of our Continental Accord."

"He sounds so…. Presidential." Winry's comment came from somewhere above and behind Edward. He realized she had come to stand just to his left.

"He ought to." Elicia chuckled from somewhere to the right. "That's his job."

"I just mean he's really grown into it," Winry clarified. When Edward looked up, she was beaming proudly. "You'd think he'd been doing this far longer than he has."

"Or angling for the job," Edward added. He knew Tore had never considered himself top-brass material. All he had aspired to be was a good State Alchemist, and then a good father and husband. He had met all of those goals years ago. "How many Presidents of the Military does this make in the family?"

"Are we counting through in-laws?" Alphonse asked, grinning. "If we are, then it's four of six."

Tore, Franz, Breda as Tore's father-in-law, and Roy Mustang as Trisha's grandfather-in-law. Edward couldn't help feeling a little smug. "Yeah, I'd count them. Though if we want to expand that world-leader list it gets longer. We can claim Thrakos thanks to Minxia, and Marskaya there is Ted's father-in-law."

"Then there's the entire royal line of Xing," Elicia added. "All in all, I'd say we're fairly well connected as a family."

Connections that could only be helping Tore and the entire continent move forward. Looking at the screen, it was obvious that he was taking advantage of what life had thrown his way to make the most of it. Though he looked serious, and not at all like someone who had won a great victory. Edward understood that. This kind of win came only at the acknowledgement that enough people had been unhappy with the system that they had wanted to overthrow it. They were countrymen lost, colleagues, sometimes even former friends.

It still stunned him that Ultraviolet had been in such a state that she'd been willing to turn herself into a homunculus. The fact that she had successfully made a philosopher's stone and survived injecting herself with it only spoke to her brilliance, as well as her insanity. Edward's goal in transforming the State Alchemy program had been to create alchemists who would not go down those dark paths.

There was something more though in that expression, and Edward had an inkling he knew why Tore looked grim. He knew what it took to execute a homunculus. So did Tore. They had specifically not said how the executions were being performed, because there would likely be an outcry if the public knew the violence needed to kill a homunculus. The list of who could even manage such a feat was exceedingly short. Though Edward did not know all the State Alchemists currently serving, he didn't need to. It was all over his son's face. I'm sorry, Tore. If I still had it in me…I'd do it for you.