Ling watched Envy carefully through the all too honest tears. That was usually Hawkeye's job. But, he'd volunteered, suggesting that she could get under their guest's skin easier than he could.

Now, he was starting to regret his choice. The report had mentioned the possibility that Edward or this creature; this Envy; had certain knowledge on various members of their infrastructure. Which it had just confirmed with Hawkeye.

But not with him. Odd, that. And the way he kept looking at Doctor Tucker, as if he was plotting something.

"Let's just get the basics out of the way," Hawkeye was saying. "What is your name?"

The creature leaned waaaay back, placing a hand on his chest and sighing heavily. "I," he said dramatically, putting a little extra bass into his voice, "Am Baron Poppinjay of the House of Poppycock, Earl of Busybody, and layer of zero bitches."

Clearly, Hawkeye was not amused. "Are you done?"

The creature grinned once again, chuckling darkly. "Guess it doesn't matter what world you're in, Riza Hawkeye is no fun at all."

"Please just state your name before I get angry," Riza stated clearly, as if Envy hadn't spoken.

The creature shrugged. "Come on, if you've got the pipsqueak around, you already know it's Envy, so can we just move this clown show along?"

Riza nodded. "Envy," she said, eliciting a regretful grimace from the creature. "Strange name, but I suppose that's not exactly unexpected from an alien life form."

Envy frowned at her. "What kinda science fiction bullshit have you been reading? You talk about it as if I came on a rocket ship."

"Might as well," she answered with a shrug. "I've certainly never heard of something like you."

"Oh, really?" Envy asked, interest piquing.

"A near perfect healing factor," Hawkeye deadpanned. "Shapeshifting on the cellular level. Not to mention a lack of literal bloodlust, not that we want to test that theory. Outside of vampires, I can't say we have any records on you."

Envy frowned, tilting his head. "Vampires, now? Really? You really think you can kill me with a stake to the heart?" He smirked, adding, "Or, perhaps you were so ballsy, you brought in a head of garlic?"

"I feel like sunlight would do the trick," she noted casually. "But no, you've been hit with UV lighting with no effect."

"Oh," Envy grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Glad to see you've been busy while I've been in and out of consciousness."

"You were told to stop struggling against your restraints," Hawkeye responded without an inkling of passion. "It's not our eggheads' fault you kept screaming over their instructions."

Envy's eyes lit up as he grit his teeth. "DON'T YOU START PATRONIZING ME, HUMAN," he actually screeched out, scarlet sparks dancing along his form. He got to his feet, almost roaring for half a second.

His shock collar automatically went off, white sparks joining and quickly overriding the red ones. Then it deactivated, and Envy's twitching body fell back to the floor.

Hawkeye glanced over her shoulder at Ling, an unamused expression on her face. "We're gonna be here for a while."

Mustang glowered at his desk. He'd been trying to nap for half an hour now, to no avail. The strange events of the last night kept spinning through his head. The sudden appearance, the fight, the cleanup, the story Edward had spun for him.

Amestris. Automail. State alchemists. Homunculi. Human transmutation. Genocide. If Edward was just spinning a yarn, he'd done so well. But he wasn't. Mustang had seen that much in his eyes.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that the golden eyed kid was hiding something from him. More than the obvious question of what had even happened to his limbs. And of course he was hiding something. He had no reason to trust anyone around him for anything but his survival, and there was barely any there to begin with.

And now, the Director had taken matters into his own hands. How he'd gotten the news so quickly was above and beyond Mustang's paygrade, no doubt. But if he was so interested in the boy and their new study subject, then something big was happening under his own roof.

Mustang glanced at the computer display on his desk, sighing heavily as he scooted closer to it. Maybe he could find some answers before any of their guests came along-

The office door opened, and Director Bradley strode in, the ever present smile still plastered on his face.

"Ah, good, you're up," Bradley called, strolling right up to and around the desk. "Forgive me, but I need to borrow your computer for a moment."

Mustang blinked, slowly getting to his feet. "Of... course, sir. May I ask what this is about?"

"Oh," Bradley muttered, waving a hand dismissively as he replaced Mustang in the chair. "Just creating a false identity for Mister Elric, printing out his credentials, nothing that need concern you."

"... Right," Mustang muttered, watching Bradley log in without glancing down at the keyboard. "That's a lot of effort to put in for a random teenager."

"Do you have any complaints?" Bradley asked, working away at the computer.

Mustang sighed heavily. "No," he admitted, "But I do have questions."

Bradley chuckled warmly. "Well, since your people are going to be keeping tabs on him, I suppose you can ask me all the questions you like."

Mustang blinked again. "Sir, I have far too many questions as it is. And, with all due respect, most of them round up to what the hell."

With a twinkle in his eye, Bradley turned to face Mustang once more. "In that case, I'll summarize," he relented happily. "Edward Elric is a long expected VIP, though his appearance now was not."

"So... it was never a question of if, only when?" Mustang asked hesitantly.

"That's what his father always said," Bradley answered with a nod, turning back to the computer. "Hohenheim could talk about his eldest son for ages, if you let him."

It took a moment for the words to register in Mustang's sleep deprived (and probably hungover) brain. His eyes widened and he took a step back. "I... how?" He asked, struggling to put words together in his shock. "The Van Hohenheim? As in the man who founded SHIELD and made you-"

"The very same," Bradley answered with a nod. "It hasn't been studied too well, but whatever method of transportation they used to get here isn't exactly..." He frowned, considering his words. "... Consistent, in a manner of speaking. The times and places it opens up to vary, as we can see."

"Hold on," Mustang said, holding up a hand. "So... Hohenheim wasn't from our world?"

"Oh, yes," Bradley said, giving Mustang a grin. "He told me himself. Though, I'll have to admit to not believing him until now."

"... And these accommodations?" Mustang asked.

"His last request," Bradley responded, finally backing away from the computer. "There. His credentials should be at the manor before he arrives."

Mustang sighed, shaking his head. "And the reason we'll be monitoring the kid?"

Bradley got to his feet, every hint of joviality leaving his face. "Edward Elric is an alchemist. Which makes him a possible threat or resource." Bradley placed a hand on Mustang's shoulder and squeezed gently. "If someone less than noble were to realize this..." He scoffed, smiling again. For some reason, he seemed much older to his subordinate. Older, and tired. "We can't let that come to pass."

"... No," Mustang said with a nod. "We can't."

Edward hadn't talked much about himself, save for the fact that he was the youngest State Alchemist ever, whatever that meant. But Mustang had seen something else in his eyes. A deep pain, and the fire of determination. He had clearly been through the ringer, and there was... something in that boy that inspired a certain level of... Care for him.

Mustang blinked as a thought occurred to him. "Wait, Edward called himself a State Alchemist. He said it was the science of understanding, deconstructing, and reconstructing matter. But... I must ask, sir..." He met the gaze of the lone blue eye. "What does that mean, exactly?"

Bradley chuckled once again. "Son, I saw Hohenheim perform miracles with the flick of a finger and call it science. Your guess is as good as mine."

Mustang swallowed, nodding gravely. "I'll see to it no one knows he exists."

"Attaboy," Bradley said, patting Mustang's shoulder and strolling to the door. "Oh, and before I go, I just want you to know that Hawkeye and Yao have both been assigned to the case. Feel free to use them as you see fit, once they're done with their interview."

Mustang whipped around to face Bradley once more. "Wait, Hawkeye? You want her to work for me?"

Bradley glanced over his shoulder, grinning at Mustang. "Don't worry, I know all about the history between you two." He grabbed the doorknob, swinging the door open. "She was the one who volunteered, not me."

"She volun-"

"I'm glad to see you in such spirits," Bradley called out with a laugh, waving as he slowly closed the door. "But I really do have to run along, now. Toodeloo!"

And with that, Director Bradley left the tired and confused Mustang to his own devices.

Hughes happily parked out in front of the East Bank Public Library, shutting off his car. "Well, here we are," he announced brightly, unbuckling his seat. "The library, just as promised!"

"Thanks, I guess," Edward muttered, mirroring Hughes and hopping out of the car, a sour expression on his face. "And... Not to be ungrateful, or anything, but..." He motioned to the bright, orange hoodie he was now wearing. "Couldn't SHIELD have sprung for something a little less tacky than... This?"

"To be fair," Hughes chuckled, stepping out of the car and locking it up. "I was the one who donated those."

Edward blinked. "Oh. Really?"

"Yeah," Hughes answered, strolling up to the library's doors. "Some stuff from my teenage years. I'm still trying to get rid of it all, it's too damned small for me."

Edward felt his eye twitch. "Too what, again?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Yeah, this is all from before my growth spurt," Hughes answered, clearly unaware of the grave he was digging. "And hey, you're so puny, it all fits perfectly!"

In an instant, Edward was on the bespectacled man, limbs flying everywhere as he screamed, "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO TINY HE MIGHT AS WELL BE AN AMOEBA?"

"WHOA, DUDE, CHILL," Hughes cried out, fending off the feral attacks. "WE'RE ALMOST IN THE LIBRARY! CALM DOWN!"

A few minutes later, an apologetic Edward allowed Hughes to bring him over to the library's computers, machines he'd never heard of before, much less seen. But as Hughes explained the functions of the buttons and keyboard, he found himself taking to them quite quickly.

So much had been learned between his time in Germany and now. And much had happened. Germany fell to the Allies after orchestrating a massive genocide on their own people as well as an aggressive expansion. A bomb of terrible power was dropped on Japan twice. There was a Civil Rights movement here in the US. Multiple wars clearly aimed at gathering resources.

Of course, not all of it was bad, though he noted that the good seemed to be an understatement next to the bad. Oh, the advancements of science were amazing, but most people tended to care about what harm was being done where. And for good reason, he thought. This world seemed to be as full of pain and suffering as his own; arguably more so. How could the people not focus on that?

At some point, he finally leaned back in his seat and looked around. Only to find the Hughes was no longer there. In his place was a folded note. Edward hesitated, then started opening it up.

Out for a smoke, the note said. Didn't want to disturb you. Be back before your time is up.

Edward sighed, shaking his head as he returned his attention to the screen. Perhaps now might be a good time to check out that social media thing that kept popping up...

The more he read, the less he understood. As far as he could tell, it was some sort of tool to share information, pictures, and projects instantly with any number of people. But there were also several scientific studies claiming that it wasn't good for you? And what even was brainrot to begin with?

He shook his head, closing that tab. So what if he didn't get everything right off the bat? It was probably nothing important, anyways. Besides, he'd found a new topic to research: Multiversal Theory.

It was early in the morning in France. The country air smelled rank with last night's rain, and the sun was just beginning to rise over the distant hills.

A perfect morning, as far as Solaris was concerned.

The raven haired, buxom woman lounged in her pajamas, up on her second story porch swing, smoking a long cigarette as the breeze rocked her back and forth. Almost perfect. If only she had a glass of red wine...

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the porch door opening. A big, round man in a black suit and tie strolled out onto the porch, holding a tray which contained a glass of red wine, as well as a ringing phone. "A call for you, ma'am," he said, lowering the tray to her level.

She frowned, knocking the ashes off her cigarette before accepting the phone. The contact read Unknown Caller. Her eyes narrowed. She was on vacation, goddamnit. What could be so important as to call her back out? And what if she'd been sleeping in? Would they even care?

Solaris sighed, hitting accept call and bringing the phone to her ear. "Salutations," she said, with none of the irritation she felt. "Acadia speaking."

"Greetings, mistress," answered the voice of her favorite partner. "I hope you're doing well on this fine morning."

Her expression and demeanor immediately brightened. "Oh, Kimblee, darling," she purred, motioning for her companion to se the tray on a nearby table. "I'm simply basking in the rays of a French dawn. And you?"

"At work, unfortunately," Kimblee answered with a sigh. "However, I've stumbled upon a little something the higher ups wanted your assistance with."

"Of course they have," Solaris grumbled, rolling her eyes as she took another drag off the cigarette. "This had better be good. You're cute, Kimblee, but not that cute."

"You wound me," he answered with a soft chuckle. "As if I would dare disturb you if it wasn't... Enticing."

Solaris raised an eyebrow, glancing at the big man. He shrugged in response. "Well, don't leave a girl in the dark. Come out with it, already."

"And here I thought you liked men who play hard to get," Kimblee teased. "But, I shall hold back no longer. You remember your old SHIELD boytoy?"

"Mustang, you mean?" Solaris rolled her eyes. "There's hard to get, and then there's him. The man's own flaws made that operation a mess."

"Well, he's found something," Kimblee continued. She could almost hear the smirk on his face. "Two somethings, actually."

"Are you drawing this out on purpose, or do you just love the sound of your own voice?" she deadpanned.

"It's my gift to the world," he answered without hesitation. "But I digress. Last night, it appears he found the son of the alchemist as well as a homunculus."

Solaris frowned, her brow furrowing. "Alright," she muttered, "I was with you on the first one, but... What even is a homunculus?"

"Not entirely sure myself," Kimblee responded. "Some sort of... Enhanced human, from what I've heard. I'll keep my ear to the ground, but our bosses want you and your butler on it, ASAP. They're willing to pay you triple."

"Say no more," she quickly interrupted him. "We'll be there yesterday."

Kimblee chuckled yet again. "One would think your greed would have been satiated already, Solaris. One more thing, a side job so to speak."

"So they want to work me to the bone, too?" Solaris groaned.

"Just a phone call or two, nothing too horrible," he assured her. "Our contact in Rockbell Industries says he's ready for the final deal. He just needs someone to disappear the girl while she's visiting the Middle East."

"The girl?" she asked, blinking. "What sort of trouble could the little brat even pull for us?"

"The little brat, as you say, just graduated from MIT," Kimblee answered. "Apparently, Pinako's going to step down soon, and the girl's planning on taking her place."

"Nepotism at its finest," Solaris muttered. "Did she at least get some of Pinako's brains?"

"And then some," he said. "About half of Rockbell Industries' designs have been from her for the past three years."

Solaris blinked again. "And... They're selling?"

"Ask your people in the Ten Rings about it sometime, they're her best customers. Not that she's aware, of course."

Solaris smirked. "Kimblee, I think you just gave me a wonderful idea."

"Oooo, do I get to hear the details?"

"Oh, I don't want to spoil it," Solaris answered with a dramatic sigh. "I'll have Hugo start packing while I set up the call."

"Thank you, Solaris," he purred. "I'll see you when you arrive. Hail HYDRA."

She nodded, though he couldn't see it. "Hail HYDRA."