Chapter 20: Smackdown in the Sewers

He was a Scar on the World, for the World had scarred him.

Slowly, Scar slunked along the sewer's small walkway. Likely these had been designed to allow cleaning crews to lower themselves into the mire and waste of East City, and remove whatever blockages or detritus that had somehow flowed into the waterways that were meant to clean away the filth of the city. They were wider than necessary, but it allowed for safe passage through the underground of the city, and it also served as a place for vagabonds and criminals to retreat during the night. Despite the smell, Scar felt comfortable down in the sewers.

'And why wouldn't I,' he thought, hands in his pockets, shades still on so some random passerby didn't catch sight of his identity, 'Am I also not a man who cleans the filth of the world away,' he thought back to the weaselly man he tore apart not a week earlier, 'Do I not clean God's world of the waste and the excrement of the people that so defy him. This is my proper place,' he looked up, and stared at a nearby manhole cover, 'Until the coward's guards relax, and I may bring the judgement of Ishvala upon the arrogant who believe they have the right to God's domain.'

Scar had never understood his brother. Perhaps it had been his own early entrance into the priesthood, or perhaps it had just been a trick of God, but he had never been able to connect with his brother while the young man had been alive. They had been born into the holiest people on the planet, and yet, instead of devoting himself to communing with Ishvala, he had pursued alchemy.

Alchemy!

'Work of the Devil,' Scar growled.

Alchemy, the art of creation from God's matter, was a sin. It was the height of pride to suggest that mere humans could warp and create using matter with such ease and arrogance. And Alchemy did not just do so, but did so in ways that lead to nothing but death and destruction. Bullets, blades, flames, all manner of monstrous alchemy did nothing but slaughter the people of Ishvala. Even his brother's compatriots were only studying alchemy in order to turn it into a weapon to kill the Amestrians. It was just more proof of the arrogance of human beings.

'And yet,' Scar looked down at his right arm, and saw the massive tattoo that spiraled up from his hand to his shoulder, 'My brother's sins were passed down to me with his sacrifice,' Scar remembered seeing his brother, his little brother, blocking the blast in front of him, as the alchemist from Amestris rained fire down on his family, 'Now, it is only through his knowledge, and his arm that I am able to bring judgement down on the sinners of the world.'

Clip-Clip

Scar twisted on his heal to the new sound, and looked down the dark sewer corridor. The darkness that came with being in an underground tunnel cut off his vision of what might be coming, so he forced himself against the wall, and readied his hand.

Clip-Clip

The sound was certainly getting closer, he tried to figure out why it sounded so strange. Whenever there were workers down here, most of them wore large, metal bottomed boots, all to allow them to retain traction on the often wet and slick walkways. He tried to place where he had ever heard shoes that seemed both less heavy, but more pointed...

Clip-Clip

'Wait,' Scar remembered the few times he had snuck through the upper crust of Amestrian society, and in particular the sound of many of the women walking in those circles, 'Are those heels?'

And suddenly, a woman appeared out of the darkness. She was, at least from Scar's admittedly less than experienced opinion, beautiful. She had long black hair that framed a pale face, with red lips and well done makeup. She wore a long black dress, that flowed along her body, and eventually off her legs right before the ankles. And yes, Scar noticed, looking down at the woman's feet, this woman was, in fact, wearing a pair of black, high heeled shoes, ones with sharp enough backs to make the distinctive clipping sound he had heard before.

'Why would a woman this well dressed be down in a sewer?' he then looked over at the woman, who was looking at him with a blank expression, 'Haven't I seen her before?'

He pushed that thought from his mind, while shaking his head. He then stopped, and looked directly at the woman, "Are you lost?" he asked, his eyes watching her. He pushed his mind beyond the initial shock, and readied his body, his eyes waiting for the first sign of movement.

"Scar," the woman said, and Scar further readied himself. Anyone using his name was obviously looking for him, and if they were looking for him, that could mean nothing good. And he knew this was the correct move, when suddenly he saw a long metal instrument shoot out into her hand, and her eyes seem to flash.

"May I have the honor of taking your life tonight."

SWISH

Scar had long known he had been blessed by God, if for no other reason than the instincts Ishvala had delivered to him in combat. What at times people had called paranoia had saved him more times than he could count, and once again, it saved him here. That he had readied himself for battle against this woman was the only reason he had missed her slash, as she had managed to close the nearly ten meters of distance between them in the blink of an eye. He managed to sweep to his right, as the needle was in the attackers own right, and that would allow him to be on the opposite side of her weapon. Recognizing this woman was his enemy, he then readied to shoot his right arm to deal with her.

'Almighty Ishvala, may y-'

SWPLACH

'What?'

Only to feel a pain along his chest. His eyes refocused, and he saw a needle had come up, and there was a trail of blood droplets following the upper arc. He pushed his feet back further, and fell into the sewer water. Just as he recognized that he was under water, he threw down his feet, and bounced up, pushing himself out of the water, and further away from the walkway that the assailant was still on.

SPLASH

And as he did so, he realized that that had been the best decision that he could have made. Right where he had been floating after the wound, the woman had dived down with her needles. She then turned her red eyes up, and was glaring at him, and again, Scar kicked down, pushing himself out of the water, and onto the walkway on the other side of the sewer, regaining his footing. The woman stared at him, seemingly readying herself for another push.

'However,' Scar thought quickly, glad as he readied himself for the next attack, activating his right arm's destruction, and feeling the lighting of his brother's soul course along his arm, 'She was too aggressive,' staring at her as she stood in the middle of the water of the sewer, 'She jumped in, and gave me a more solid footing. That water will hamper he-'

And then she jumped out of the water, tossing one of her needles at Scar. Scar's instincts barely pulled him out of his thoughts with enough time to dodge the toss, and then, on instinct, he shot his right arm towards the needle, and the metal disintegrated in a second. However, the dodge had given enough time for the woman to suddenly land a few short feet on the causeway from Scar, and allowed her to turn back towards him, her one remaining needle in her left hand.

'She's at leas-'

And then, reaching back into her hair, her right hand returned to view with another needle.

'Shit,' Scar inwardly groaned. This woman was pushing him around. If he continued to allow her to dictate the flow of the battle, she'd likely manage to catch him in a mistake. She'd already managed to wound him, and Scar was likely lucky that it was only a glancing wound to the chest. He looked as she began to methodically began to advance towards him, needles directly pointed at his heart.

He then slammed his right hand of destruction into the walkway they were both standing on-

CROSSUSHSH

-and then the brick and the mortar burst apart, filling the air with flying debris. The woman's eyes widened, her clear path towards Scar suddenly filled with dozens of rocks. And Scar, lighting up his arm of destruction pushed forward, cutting through the debris field, the rocks and pebbles dissipating beneath his strike. He aimed directly at the woman's head, and shot his right arm towards it. The woman pulled her left needle up between the strike and her face, but the metal disintegrated from his destruction, and his strike nearly connected.

But it didn't, as she kicked out, and threw herself all the way across the sewer, and her back soon collided with the wall on the other side of the sewer. She coughed, for a second, but didn't fall down, landing on her feet, and turning with her right handed needle still pointed at Scar, but slightly off balance. And then he saw why, as the woman's done up bun was gone, and her long black hair was splayed out over her body, some of the hair covering her face. He then looked down, and saw that he had managed to catch one of the long shocks of hair that had been resting over her ears and framing her face, likely meaning her had undone her bun with his strike.

'Wait, wasn't her hair where she was hiding her other needles?'

And the woman seemed to confirm that, as she glared at him, with only a single solitary needle remaining in her grasp. She seemed to twist it slightly, and then ready herself for another strike. He readied his arm again, and prepared to deal with that last weapon. If he could destroy that, then he would have a full advantage of his assailant no longer having anything to attack him.

TWACK

A pain came over his head, as for a second his sight left him. When it returned, he saw a pebble falling away from his forehead. He looked at it, and then saw that the woman was jumping at him again. He also saw that the woman's high-heeled shoes were gone, and that she was bear-footed, no socks or anything else. And then, he remembered that she hadn't moved any part of her upper body while he had been looking at her, and he asked himself.

'Did she throw that at me with her foot?'

That question disappeared quickly, as he then felt a sharp pain along his lower right arm, and a sudden gust of energy that threw him back against the wall of the sewer. His eyes turned for a second to his right arm after he regained his composure, and then widened. Sticking out of his right tricep, was the last needle. She had thrown the needle with such power and precision as to use it to impale his arm of destruction to the wall of the sewer!

CRACK

"AAAGHH!" Scar could not help but scream, as he felt his left shoulder nearly break inward. He looked back over, and saw that the woman had struck it with her bare hands. He could not believe such a petite woman could have such strength in her body. While remaining on his left side, she readied another strike, and this time, he could tell she was aiming for his head.

'If she hits my head,' he thought, his mind racing to keep up with the flow of the battle, 'My skull could cave in,' his right arm erupted into destruction, and he could begin to feel the metal needle disintegrate from the energy, but it wouldn't be enough time before she would get at least one debilitating strike into his head, and end his ability to fight, 'Then there is only one thing I can do.'

And he slammed his right hand into the wall behind him, and pushed out as much destruction as he could muster.

CRREOAOUDUOGGHHHHSHSHSHHSHSHSHSHSHHSHSHBOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM

Scar didn't know what was happening. The pain in both his arms and his chest was still there, but he couldn't open his eyes. He felt like he was being carried away, by something strange. Perhaps he had failed, perhaps he had died, and he was being carried by the waters of Ishvala to the next life.

His mission a failure.

'I'm sorry,' he thought, as he drifted, both with the waters around him and from consciousness.

'I'm so sorry, my brother.'

"I'm sorry," Yor looked down at the ground, the sounds of the garden filling the background as she sat in the small steel chair that the Shopkeer liked to use as a place to read. She then winced, and looked over at McMahon, who was applying a cotton swab with hydrogen peroxide to her arm, washing it over the cuts and bruises she had sustained.

Scar had gotten away. It had been a tremendously difficult fight, like the Shopkeeper had warned her. It was almost certainly the closest she had come to death on a mission, especially during Scar's attack through the rubble that had ruined her hair. But it she had been close. Achingly close, in fact. But the serial killer had slammed his destruction into a wall of the sewer, and doing so, managed to catch a gas line. The resulting explosion had forced Yor to jump away before she could finish him off. Scar had then disappeared beneath the resulting smoke cloud and the spray of water, and by the time Yor had regained her bearings, she had been forced to retreat from the sewers to avoid detection from the arriving police.

No matter what, the Garden could not afford to become common knowledge of the public. It would bring too much instability to have anyone know there was a massive organization of assassins.

"Are you sure he escaped," the Shopkeeper was rubbing his chin, a small frown on his face.

"I'm not sure," Yor shook her head. She'd never failed a mission, and the thought of letting Shopkeeper down like this was distressing her. The man had been like a father to her, and she had just let him down, "But, I can't guarantee he is dead. I wasn't able to strike a killing blow, and he more than likely fell into the water, and was washed away."

"Well, then perhaps the mission was handled anyway," McMahon offered, his voice trying to be as soothing as possible, "He was heavily wounded from his fight with you correct. Floating in sewage and waste water would almost certainly lead to infections. Mixed with the damage you caused him already-"

"That's not good enough," Yor shook her head, and felt her frown deepen when she heard McMahon sigh. She couldn't let excuses become part of her work, that would only lead to more failure, and more instability in the future, "Our duty as the Garden is to prove that we have completed our jobs, and without a corpse, how can we prove that Scar is dead."

"We can't," the Shopkeeper sighed. His red eyes didn't really resemble Scar's at all, after getting a full look at them, but she couldn't quite describe it. And then he jumped, as he looked down at his watch, and seemed to curse underneath his breath, "And, unfortunately, we have another issue."

"What's that," McMahon asked.

"The client has just arrived to ask about this missions completion."

The door to the Chateau opened, and out into the Garden walked one of the most beautiful women that Yor had ever seen. She had long, silky black hair, which seemed to float like a cloud over her head. She had red lips, that highlighted a soft and pleasant face. She was tall, even a few inches than Yor, who was unusually tall herself. She wore an elegant, black dress, with a purple coat on the outside, that covered her all the way up to her neck. And her smile was pleasant, though her eyes were looking at the three hitmen with calculation.

"Hello there," the woman walked up, with a voice that caused Yor to blush. She then reached out her hand to Yor, who then took it up, ignoring the pain as they shook hands, "My name is Solaris, and I was the one who hired you to kill Scar."

"Ah!" Yor's mind finally caught up to what was happening, and she gasped out, "I'm so sorry. I didn't kill Scar."

Solaris blinked for a second, "But you are alive?"

"Well, yes," Yor admitted, looking down, "I did wound Scar, and I almost had him, but he managed to slip away at the last second after he blew up that sewer in East City," the woman's shock seemed to dissipate for a moment, and then her smile returned. She let go of Yor's hand, and then rested her back up against one of the trees of the Garden.

"So how badly wounded was he?" she asked.

"I impaled his right arm, smashed his left shoulder," she repeated, "And also sliced up his chest."

"Sounds like he took a beating," Solaris laughed, and Yor blinked, "And you say, he was washed away by the sewer most likely, right?"

"Yes," Yor nodded, and then she looked over at the Shopkeeper, who blinked back, looking as confused as she was. The woman across from her continued to smile, placing one finger on her chin, and then looking up at the sky for a moment in contemplation.

"So, I guess he's likely out of commission for a while then," she then clapped her hands together, "Okay then, here's the deal," she pointed at the Shopkeeper, "I know our agreement was originally for you to deliver me a corpse, but I think you've done enough work for at least half the payment, wouldn't you say?"

"I...believe so," the Shopkeeper was trying to maintain his composure, still not sure about how to exactly handle what this woman was getting at. The woman smiled, and nodded. She then walked over, and began to play with a rose bush that was sitting in the middle of the garden, feeling at the petals of the flower, and then breathing in.

"We'll just say, you managed to kill Scar, but since you didn't bring me the body, you can't prove it, and we'll have to accept I might never get proof of it," she continued, continuing to play with the flower as she talked, "He's likely dead anyway, so what I wanted probably has happened, even if we can't be sure."

"But what if Scar returns?" Yor asked, and then the woman burst out laughing. She let go of the flower, and walked over to Yor. She smiled, leaned down so she was looking at Yor directly in her eyes, and placed her hand on Yor's cheek, just like she had done for the flower a moment earlier. Yor's felt her face heat up considerably, but was too worried about insulting the client to pull away.

"You're very honest," Solaris laughed, pulling her hand away from Yor's cheek, "Not really a trait you'd expect in an assassin," she then leaned forward next to Yor's ear, "But I like it."

"I'M MARRIED!" Yor shouted suddenly, and then placed her hand over her mouth. Solaris just laughed as she back, throwing her head back as she did so.

"I see I still have the touch," her head then leaned down, and she looked Yor directly in the eyes once more, "Back to business though," Yor heard a couple of coughs, and looked back and saw McMahon resting his face in his hand, "I needed Scar removed from active hunting, and you seem to have accomplished this," she then looked back, "If Scar does come back, I'll just call you up, and then you can earn the second half of the contract that way," she then looked over to Shopkeeper, who was still eyeing her wearily, his face having not moved from contemplation, "Deal?"

"...," The Shopkeeper took a second to stare at Solaris, clearly trying to size her up, before nodding, "I believe that is a fair payment for the services provided, and services that might need to be provided," and yet, despite his acceptance, he didn't seem to be getting less tense. He kept his eyes on Solaris, and Yor could see his hands getting stiff.

"Perfect," Solaris stood up, and then turned around towards the house, before looking back over her shoulder, "I'll be in touch if Scar reappears, okay?"
"Of course," The Shopkeeper said.

The woman's smile finally fully set, and then she waved at Yor, "Maybe I'll see you again dear," and Yor felt herself blush once more, before turning back, and walked back into the chateau. When she closed the door, suddenly, the Shopkeeper fell over, barely catching himself on the table, his shoulders shaking as he looked at the door.

"Sho-"

"Shush," he put his lips to his mouth, and then they all stayed quiet, as the house remained still. For about five minutes, the only thing Yor could hear were the background sounds of nature. Finally, Yor could hear the distant sound of an engine start, and then it slowly disappear, as the car that Solaris must have taken to arrive drove away. Even once the sound of the car was gone, however, they still stayed quiet for a moment longer, before the Shopkeeper finally spoke up, "We are lucky she likes you, Yor."

"I suppose getting half payment is an acceptable result for only the idea of a completed job," McMahon began, before suddenly the Shopkeeper slammed his hand down on the table, causing both Yor and the older man to jump, as the looked up at his shaking eyes.

"I don't care about the payment!" the Shopkeeper yelled, barely containing his emotions as he screamed, "I care about the fact that she could have killed all of us if she had wanted."

"Shopkeeper?" Yor looked at her mentor for a second.

"Didn't you feel it," Shopkeeper said, his hands still shaking, "That overwhelming sense of death. That woman's killed more people than all of us combined," he brought them together, and began to sit down in one of the chairs next to Yor, "If she had wanted to, she could have killed us for our failure, and we would be dead before she tried."

"But," Yor spoke up, "I didn't see a weapon on her," she remembered the woman being completely unarmed, and that her stance was more relaxed than anyone planning on killing a person could possibly be, "How could she have killed us?"

"I don't know."

And that was that. For the next few moments, they just sat there in silence. McMahon went back to treating the light wounds that Yor had, all the while, the Shopkeeper just sat there thinking about what had just happened. Occasionally, he'd rub a hand through his long white hair, before shaking his head. Finally, he looked back at Yor.

"Well, prepare to be on call if she needs you," he offered, some relief finally in his voice, "We will let you know as soon as we can if we hear from her," he then pointed at her again, "Also, if you hear about Scar, find him, and bring me his head," Yor nodded at the seriousness of this order. Then the Shopkeeper sat back, and let out a long sigh, before adding, "I'm glad you are alive Yor."

"I'm glad to be alive too," Yor agreed, and she heard the Shopkeeper bark a small laugh. He placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to wince and pull away.

"Sorry," he said, before shaking his head, "You'll have to stay overnight. We should have a replacement dress and replacement needles for you to return tomorrow. Your wounds are light enough that you should be able to explain them away easily," Yor nodded at that, "Just say you fell down in some gravel, and wanted to stay overnight to get cleaned up."

"I think that will work," the shopkeeper smiled.

"So tell me," her mentor said, "How goes family life."

"You're beautiful, you know that?"

"Well...ummmm..."

Twilight looked out over the platforms, smoke emerging from the mighty engines as they were offloading their passengers from East City. Yor had called the previous night to let him know she wouldn't make it back until this afternoon, and he had appreciated the thought. Anya was holding onto his hand, as he looked over the dozens of people getting off from the trains.

"Where's Mama?" Anya asked again, and Lloyd sighed. Dealing with his daughter's shot attention span had been perhaps one of the greatest challenges he had encountered while running Operation STRIX.

Besides Maes Hughes of course.

'Little children just have less patience,' he thought to himself, 'Besides, Yor should be here-'

"Look!" Anya shouted, pointing at a familiar tall woman with long black hair, "It's Mama!"

And indeed, it was Yor. And as Anya rushed over towards the woman, Twilight began to take stock of his "wife". Her hands were covered in bandages, and it looked like something had happened to her hair, as part of it was missing, though one would have to look carefully to notice with it having been rearranged into the same hairstyle as before. His eyes widened as he took in her appearance, and rushed over as Yor snatched up Anya into her arms.

"Anya," Lloyd warned, his voice even as he approached, "You shouldn't be having your mother pick you up like that, her arms are hurt," he pointed down to the bandages, though Yor just waved her hand slightly."

"It's no problem Lloyd," Yor said, smiling as she held Anya with her arms, "I was just working in the yard with my employer, and I took a tumble with some gravel," Lloyd remembered Yor's explanation on her late return, "My cuts are mostly healed," she then held up Anya closer to herself, "Honestly, it feels good to hold Anya like this. Makes me feel like I'm back on my feet."

'Ah,' Twilight considered her words, 'I suppose she has become closer to Anya than I initially thought,' he looked at the two, both smiling at one another as Anya burst out about how cool her mother was. He ignored her as she seemed to talk about explosions or whatever, and continued to consider the woman that was Yor Forger, 'It's good that she has become so motherly so quickly. There is something inherently attractive about a woman who acts such a way around children.'

"Are you gonna kiss Mama, Papa?" Anya asked outloud, and then Lloyd felt himself jump, though part of him was exceedingly glad when he saw Yor jump a bit too.

"You can't just reach out and kiss someone, Anya," Twilight said.

'Not that it'd be wrong. I've kissed much lesser women than Yor.'

"That's right," Yor suddenly looked at Lloyd for a moment, "It'd be rude to something like that now."

Anya looked back between Twilight and Yor for a moment, before her face settled into a strange look.

"Don't you look at your parents like that," Twilight warned, though Anya's face didn't change. For a moment, they just stood there as other people walked by, and Twilight had to be glad at all the background noise saving him from any kind of embarrassment. Finally, he sighed, and placed a hand on Yor's shoulder. When she winced for a second, and pulled away, Twilight's eyes widened, "Are yo-"

"I'm okay," Yor nodded, "Just a place where I fell," she nodded, and then Twilight nodded back. Twilight, trying to find the right way to help with this, shook his head, and then just sighed.

"What do you sa-"

"Hurry up Al!"

"Wait for us Brother!" Twilight turned on his heels, and suddenly, from the back of the train, saw a familiar trio of individuals. Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, and Major Armstrong were all waltzing onto the platform. On Ed's back was a large Suitcase, and he was pushing forward, clearly determined to get a move on to his desired location.

"We're finally in Central," Ed seemed to giggle, eyes still focused, "Now we just have to get to the libra-"

"Edward?" Lloyd said aloud, and suddenly, the young man came to a stop. His feet were planted in the same place, and he then looked back, and then stared at Lloyd. He then pointed a finger accusingly at him. Before turning around, and waving. At the rather immature display, Twilight felt some sweat develop on the back of his head.

"Come on," Ed said, "Let's ge-"

"Edward Elric," Major Armstrong declared, and the young man stopped. Both Alphonse and Armstrong were standing where they had been, looking at Edward expectantly. The young man seemed to glare at them for a moment, before sighing, and turning on his heels, and walking back up to Lloyd. He groaned, and then looked Lloyd directly in the eye.

"Do you have another time for an appointment for me?"

"Don't be rude Edward," Alphonse said, but Twilight held up a hand. The metal suit of armor fell back slightly as Lloyd nodded at the younger man, who was still clearly uncomfortable talking with him again.

"Of course Ed," Lloyd smiled, "I'd be glad to have another session with you. How about this Thursday?"

"Four days from now," Edward thought for a moment, then smiled, "Yeah, that should be perfect," Lloyd smiled to himself, glad to see he would have a chance to see if he couldn't help this young man a bit more so he didn't have too many problems, "Will give me plenty of time at the library."

"Wait..." Lloyd couldn't stop himself, thinking out loud, looking at Ed for a moment, "Which library?"

"Military Library's First Branch," Ed said simply, looking at Lloyd with a slightly raised eyebrow.

Twilight blinked for a second, and then shook his head.

"That just burned down."

...

"WHHHHHHAAAATTTTTTT!?"