Music: Kuon (FMA, OST 2), Hisô, Kenja no ishi, Shinkô, Ishiba et Kinki (FMA, OST 1)

Note: Damn, it took me so long to translate that chapter! But I was so busy in January I couldn't find a moment to finish it sooner ToT Hope there will still be a few of you guys around to read it. Anyway, for this chapter2, we radically change the setting and embark on a journey with the main heroine of our story! Enjoy ~

Chapter 2: Bad Omen

Dull eyes, with deep circles etched beneath them. Furrowed brows trying in vain to block out the overly bright morning light, which burst with all its strength into the noisy and crowded mess hall. Unkempt hair that spoke of a persistent lack of care. And finally, a grimacing mouth, disgusted by the tasteless coffee swirling in a worn cup, stirred lazily by a spoon with no conviction.

This was the reflection Riza saw of herself in that bland mixture.

The young woman sighed deeply, then chewed on a piece of dry bread that the butter had failed to give any flavor. All around her, lively conversations buzzed between soldiers who were far too energetic for her, enjoying a hearty breakfast together before starting another day of work. Well, "hearty"… it seemed to be for everyone but her. The thing was, Riza simply found no joy in reliving, every morning, this same endless ritual with that same tray she was used to sharing with… with…

Riza clenched her teeth and abruptly set down her barely touched piece of toast. Her coffee cup wobbled and nearly spilled, but only a few drops escaped. The scalding liquid landed on her skin, but she paid no attention. She was too drained to even waste energy hissing in pain.

Such trivialities meant nothing to her.

The soldier drew her hand back and pressed it against her chest. Her heart lurched at the mere sight of the food. No, there was no way she could force down another bite without it getting stuck in her throat, still tight from the sobs stifled during the night.

Riza, feeling nauseous, pushed her tray away with a trembling hand, ready to leave the table.

"Lieutenant!" a voice suddenly called.

Riza looked up.

"Second Lieutenant Havoc? What is it?"

She followed him with her eyes as he weaved his way between the soldiers gathered on either side of the long table where Riza had taken her seat. He sat down clumsily in front of her, setting his overflowing tray on the table, and answered as he settled in:

"Nothing. Just wanted to stop you from leaving. You looked ready to make a run for it without even finishing your meal."

"Indeed." Riza admitted, making another move to excuse herself.

She had no desire to eat, nor to chat. Of course, it had nothing to do with Havoc, but right now, she simply didn't have the strength to…

"Don't even think about it! I didn't sprint through this damn mess hall just for you to ditch me alone with my tray like that. You're going to eat this, and this, and this, and this!" Her friend ordered, while piling a ridiculous amount of pastries onto her tray. Enough to feed at least three men, and brawny ones at that.

"But I'm not…" Riza began, thrown off by these sudden orders.

"You need to keep your strength up if you want to continue your investigation properly. Come on… Don't make me beg, just eat. You're exhausted, I can tell. You won't last long like this." Havoc cut her off in a whisper, before taking a hearty bite of a roll that crunched loudly from the enthusiasm of it.

The soldier shot such an insistent look at Riza that she eventually gave in. After all, he made a good point. If she didn't eat, there would come a point when she wouldn't even be able to stand, given all the sleepless nights she had strung together these past few weeks.

"Thank you…" Riza murmured with a sad smile.

She took one of the croissants Havoc had placed in front of her. Strangely, it seemed less bland than the food she'd tried earlier.

"Where are you with that, by the way?" The second lieutenant asked quietly, keeping an eye out for any eavesdroppers. Better safe than sorry.

"Still stuck on the same thing. No leads whatsoever." Riza clarified, taking another half-hearted bite of her pastry. "Since the east wing was condemned alongside with the Führer's office, it was already difficult to investigate, but now that they officially closed the case this week, it's gone from bad to worse. It's impossible to question the teams who were on duty the night of the attack, to search the building, and, as always, to inspect the Elric brothers' house."

The blonde squeezed her croissant tightly, and, realizing she was crushing it, set it aside before continuing:

"It's absurd to forbid access under the pretext that the house is still relevant to a case they've already closed! It feels like they're trying to stall us."

Riza nearly slammed her clenched fist against the table, but restrained herself at the very last moment. She had to stay calm if she didn't want to draw the attention of the entire mess hall.

After taking a deep breath, the lieutenant regained her composure and resumed her train of thought:

"I'm sure that the house holds clues, or they have some specific use for it. Otherwise, they wouldn't move heaven and earth to keep people away. That would also explain why it's guarded day and night. I couldn't even get close without being immediately turned away."

"Yeah, that's suspicious." Havoc confirmed, listening intently though trying to appear nonchalant. The walls could have ears, after all.

"What's even stranger…" Riza whispered, pretending to engage in small talk, just like before. "… is the Führer's attitude about it. In the first few days, a large team was sent in to help with the investigation, only to be gradually reduced. Now, it's down to those who've always genuinely cared about the real losses from that cursed night."

The lieutenant cast a hard look at one of the banners framing the mess hall's main door. For a moment, she could have sworn the dragons emblazoned on them were mocking her with their small, flat, lifeless eyes.

"The Führer's initial interest in the attack didn't last long, really. Nor did his so-called preoccupation." Riza said bitterly, laughing humorlessly. "And now, as if that weren't enough, he's closed the case without a second thought, as if nothing ever happened. And that's not the only problem…"

"What do you mean?"

Riza rested her chin in her crossed hands.

"I requested that the investigation be reopened. Naturally, it wasn't successful, but when I ran into the Führer the other day, while passing him in the corridor, and brought it up again, he… I knew I was likely to face a refusal, but the Führer… he… how can I put this? He completely lost control of himself, I'd say."

Havoc raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"It's not a secret that he has a temper, but the rumors are more about a cold anger, when he's irritated." He said. "So, the idea of him losing his cool? That's hard to imagine."

"Indeed. I'd never seen him like that before either. He's usually so… composed." The blonde's fingers tightened together. "Believe it or not, but he even slammed me against the wall, yelling at me like a madman."

Havoc nearly choked on his orange juice.

Riza ignored it and continued:

"His eyes…" The blonde's breath trembled involuntarily, though she tried to hide it from her friend. "His gaze chilled me to the bone. I wish I could say 'as usual', since you can't really say that man has ever been… let's say, 'warm', but I felt like if I pressed the issue any further, I would have ended up six feet under. It was like he was possessed. Like… like he was someone else."

"That's certainly unheard of." Havoc replied, astonished. "I wonder what's gotten into him."

"No idea, but I can tell you I won't forget our encounter any time soon. Anyway…" Riza absentmindedly picked up her spoon and traced a few patterns on her tray, as if trying to solve a puzzle by connecting scattered dots. "For him to be on edge like that, something must be wrong."

"I agree, but… just so I know, you haven't had any trouble lately, have you?" Havoc asked, nervous. He had to be sure.

"You mean… because of that altercation? No… The Führer hasn't mentioned it since. Strange, though." Riza paused. "But the point is, he seemed… different. I think something is weighing on him, and it's connected to the attack."

"It's surprising that he would close the case, then. Especially since in these kinds of situations, they usually wait longer before declaring the missing as dead, even if…"

"They're not dead." Riza interrupted, her gaze turning steely.

"I didn't say that." Havoc companion replies cautiously. "However, you have to admit that given the circumstances, the chances of finding them all alive are slim."

That terrible truth shook the blonde, leaving her at a loss for words. Worst thing being, Riza knew Havoc wasn't wrong. Who could have survived such a collapse? Roy, Edward and Alphonse were likely trapped beneath the rubble. The explosion had been so violent that the shock was felt for miles around, and the rescue team Riza had joined immediately afterward only managed to recover some documents – papers no one cared about anymore – and a few injured soldiers. Most of the other unfortunate souls caught in the collapse had perished. And even if that small group survived the blast itself, how could they have stayed alive for two months without food, water, or light in a confined space? It was unthinkable.

Yet, since that fateful day, no one had shown up. Whether it was Scar – who was blamed for everything, though Riza didn't believe it for a moment – or the missing ones… no one.

No one had surfaced.

Neither Edward, nor Alphonse, nor Roy had contacted her. Riza had been living in a distressing world of uncertainty ever since. It pained her to admit it, but she would have preferred proof that there was no longer any point in continuing the search than having to wait like that. Not knowing what had happened to the three of them for whom she had sacrificed everything was even more painful. Now, only one thing kept her from sinking into despair, from giving in to the suicidal thoughts that sometimes crossed her mind and the depression hovering over her like a sword of Damocles: the image indelibly etched into her retina on that cursed day; when, exhausted from worry and worn out by the search, she had lifted her head and seen…

Two figures, standing back in the distance, at the golden hour.

Their faces were hidden, but one had radiant hair, glowing in the light.

Blond hair.

Riza had turned the thought over and over in her mind, and she was certain of it:

It was Edward.

He was alive. Somewhere. Unfortunately, Riza had been so focused on the rubble that damn day, so intent on rescuing those she believed trapped beneath it, that she hadn't investigated further into that fleeting, uncertain vision when she saw it. Her mind almost immediately dismissed the information as quickly as it'd processed it. Besides, she was the only one who'd seen what she initially thought was a mirage. Everyone else aiding in the rescue efforts had been too focused on their work at that moment. It was pure chance that her gaze had been drawn to the strange apparition. Even Havoc, who'd been there too, swore he didn't notice anything. Riza believed him, because by the time she'd turned to share her surprise with him, the two figures had already vanished.

But now, Riza was convinced that what had once seemed like an insignificant detail was actually the key to the mystery surrounding the group's disappearance. With that thought in mind, she'd clung to the fragile hope that Edward had survived, using it as the motivation to continue her search. Of course, she still believed that the rubble held many secrets, but she'd placed her hopes on that mysterious figure she would have sworn was one of her missing friends.

Alas, whenever she tried to bring up the subject, Havoc's judgment was swift. He would gently shake his head – the first weeks, to indicate that Riza was charging headlong down a false lead; then, to remind her that, even if her theory was correct, she had no way of tracing those two people; and finally, now, to outright disapprove of what he saw as a misleading obsession.

Riza couldn't blame Havoc for that. She had no proof to back up her claims, and watching her waste away – staying up late, malnourished, and losing her will to live – could hardly encourage him to support her pursuit of fantasies.

Even so, Riza wasn't blind nor foolish. She was well aware of her own state. It was reassuring to know that someone cared, especially if that someone was a friend. But deep down, she would have preferred to be believed rather than needlessly protected. Perhaps Havoc, after long personal reflection, had resigned himself to the worst, but as for her… No. She couldn't believe it. It was something she just couldn't bring herself to accept.

"Edward is alive. I'm certain of it." The lieutenant retorted finally, in a tone that left no room for argument. "We just need to find him. He can answer our questions. All of them."

"Maybe, but how can we find him anyway? Are you still basing your search on that faint intuition since the case was closed?"

"Precisely." Riza shot back, standing firm. "I was actually thinking of speaking with Corporal Stevens again about it. He was on duty the day Edward disappeared and the day of the attack. I've only been able to talk to him a few times since, as he's been overloaded with work lately, but I'd like to know if he saw someone who looked like…"

CLANG

The metallic clink of the spoon Havoc had just dropped rang so loudly that Riza's ears were buzzing. She fell silent immediately and stared at her colleague, puzzled.
In the span of a second, the second lieutenant had become as pale as a ghost.

"Wait." Havoc whispered, his voice trembling, which was unlike him. "I thought… I thought you…"

"Thought what?"

"That you knew. That it was the reason why you were so… Oh, shit…"

Riza blinked twice. It was rare to see Havoc lose his composure like this around her. She didn't even have time to wonder about it, though.

"You're talking about Corporal Cole Stevens, right?" Havoc asked, clumsily wiping with a paper napkin the splashes caused when his spoon hit the table. His movements were hasty, erratic, more out of stress than any real concern for cleanliness. He seemed unusually agitated. "The one who was on guard last night at the HQ entrance?"

"Yes. Why?"

A terrible expression took over Havoc's face, frozen in horror. After swallowing more loudly than he intended, he declared gravely:

"They found him dead last night, in the courtyard. He was buried this morning. I… I thought you knew."

Riza's eyes widened. The noise around her faded into a distant murmur. Her entire body shook, and before she even realized what she was doing, she stood up abruptly, knocking her chair over, and slammed both hands on the table, shouting:

"What?! You're joking, right?! He's… He's?!"

That man – so upright and kind, who always took the time to greet her and the general at the start of their workday… That dedicated, honest man who never complained about any task, who took his duty seriously, and had helped her dig late into the night, hoping to free the missing from their stone prison…

Dead?

Several heads turned toward them, intrigued by the commotion and the lieutenant's sudden outburst. Riza, tense, stared intently at Havoc. She couldn't believe it, and more than the man's death itself, it was the circumstances surrounding it that made her heart pound violently against her ribs.

"He was found dead."

Corporal Stevens had been "found dead" in the courtyard while he was on duty. Added to the meaningful look in Havoc's eyes, it meant that his death wasn't natural. In other words, the poor man had been murdered. And this hasty burial suggested that conclusions had been drawn quickly regarding his death.

Either because the culprit had been identified and convicted at record speed – yet no rumors of either the homicide or any court-martial had spread, making that theory highly improbable…
Or because someone wanted the investigation to be cut short. This was usually the case when someone wanted to suppress an affair or didn't want the perpetrator to be caught and judged. In fact, Havoc mentioned a burial but had not spoken of any culprit, which spoke volumes about how this murder had been handled. What was even worse was that Riza could guess from the second lieutenant's eyes that the entire matter had already been swept under the rug.

Just like the case she was investigating on.

Riza started to tremble.

Could it be that the man had been killed because he held information she might have been interested in? Because she had recently tried to get in touch with him? What could have driven this crime?

So many questions burned on her dry lips that Riza didn't know which one to ask first, and even if she could have decided, her vocal cords wouldn't have obeyed. She suddenly noticed a wave of murmurs rising around her; some soldiers were paying too much attention to the scene. She also heard Havoc urging her to sit down before too many people became aware of her unusual behavior. Yet Riza couldn't move. This revelation had paralyzed her.

"Lieutenant!" Havoc called out once more, grabbing her wrist.

However, the touch that snapped Riza out of her stupor wasn't his. Instead, it was the firm grip of a strong hand clamping down on her shoulder, like a vulture's claw, at the exact same time. Riza startled and turned around quickly. She found herself face-to-face with two men, their expressions sinister. Both stared at her with cold, viper-like blue eyes, devoid of any kindness. Their stances, as well as their impassive faces, screamed that they had taken the lives of countless soldiers on the battlefield. Obviously, Riza was in no position to judge them for that, but the complete absence of any sympathy in these newcomers indicated that the blood they had shed without remorse was likely the reason they now wore pristine uniforms decorated with outrageously visible medals.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye?" The man crushing her shoulder asked.

Riza vaguely recognized him from somewhere, but no time to recall where. She barely held back a hiss of pain and saluted her interlocutors according to their rank, despite the furious urge she had to make that brute remove his dirty paw from her shoulder. In any case, the sudden and perfectly controlled gesture she made by raising her hand was enough to make him let go.

"Yes?" Riza answered soberly, her voice still troubled by emotion, while throwing an anxious and questioning glance at Havoc.

Her colleague returned the same glance. Apparently, Havoc had no idea who these people were either, but they didn't sit well with him either; so much so that he shrank into himself like a dog ready to bite and made a move toward his service weapon. Riza stopped him from doing anything more with a discreet frown and turned her attention back to the two hulking men, who waited for silence to resume speaking. Once the tables around them had gone perfectly quiet – even though the soldiers, pretending to focus on their plates, were secretly observing the scene with great interest – the more taciturn of the two men announced:

"Lieutenant Hawkeye, the President requests your presence. Follow us."

The statement fell like a guillotine. This time, it was Havoc who abruptly stood up. He stared long and hard at the colossus – who only gave him a contemptuous look –, before his eyes widened. Riza realized at the same time who the two unpleasant individuals were exactly.

This pair belonged to King Bradley's close guard, responsible for administering important military affairs. Their specialty? Promotions, especially when they involved high ranks and originated from the Führer's will. However, in this time of crisis, they were also handling certain internal matters… like homicides. How many men had they recently led before the firing squad on trumped-up charges of treason, having delivered them to the Führer himself to decide their fate? Many, no doubt.

Riza felt her blood run cold at the thought. Her heart pounded against her ribs with such force that it might have shattered them. Nevertheless, she made a tremendous effort to hide the fear that, little by little, gripped every single muscle in her body. She gave Havoc a reassuring look to stop him from protesting, asked him to return her tray once he finished his own meal, then followed the two men escorting her to the exit. She quickly fell into step with their clockwork pace. Their heels clicked on the ground in perfect harmony, but the young woman's heart was far from beating in sync with the two watchdogs beside her.

Pull yourself together, Riza… It's not the time to falter. Get a grip!

As the blonde passed through the large cafeteria doors, under the intrigued gazes of several soldiers who exchanged whispers as she approached, she found it increasingly difficult to keep her shoulders and back straight, as if a weight far heavier than herself was crushing her more with each step.

Riza trembled.

She felt like she was walking down the corridor of death.

To be continued…

I admit, it wasn't easy at first to slip into the skin of Riza, who isn't a character I'm really used to using for the narration. In my other stories, she's often relegated to the rank of extra. Here, it's quite the opposite! It's a difficult exercise, I must say…

Anyway, hope you liked this chapter, even if, as I said before, there's a lot of info to integrate for those who haven't played the game. By the way, the character of Cole Stevens is the guard that we see several times in the game, in front of the military HQ. As the poor man is only ever presented as a "soldier", I did my best to find a name for him that would fit the tone of the others. I hope it does the trick u.u'

Don't forget to comment and see you soon (I hope)! ~

Redaction: White Assassin

English beta proofing: StrawberryKiuwi