Chapter 17: Hidden Meanings. Hidden Intentions.

A vast desert of endless miles, a walk of eternity. A figure in a white desert coat that idly walked through it, in the midst of a scarred battlefield. A shoulder coated in red, dripping with anguished faces, as his face was obscured.

"I have to tell them... I have to tell them..."

He carries a secret in his heart, a heart that he did not have, only a hole at the center of his chest.

"I have to save everyone..."

The murmur of such a proclamation, carrying the weight of endless lives as he staggered through the endless desert of pain and sorrow, passing by another figure. The second figure seem to have been wandering for some time, with a slightly battered cloak, white spike strands of his hair escapes under his hood, his skin tanned, having been bathed under the streaming compassionate sun in his journey, as the land scorched before him.

A band of military power exploded in the distant, the horizon in flames he stares ahead - the source of the determination in his eyes of amber-steel, as he looked in hatred of the war that cried infinite tragedies and deaths.

The path of hell before him is all that awaits, and he resolved himself for it.

The battlefield grew louder with intense violence and deathly cries. A flash of light suddenly burst from the ground, an upward rain of sporadic red energy that crackled like lightning. Gunfire, explosions, alchemical energy, bodies piled over one another, in blue uniforms, in desert clothing, wide-eyes of blue or red pairs; soldiers, civilians...

And sitting among the corpses, a person of pale color, their identity unforgettable, a sudden jolt of anger in the heart of that who is witnessing this scene.

"I wonder..."

Francois smiled, eyes stripped of humanity through their translucent white bangs. The little medallion that rung around the neck of a familiar design, the medallion that says it all.

"Will you be able to save anyone?"

Their cold eyes blackened, and puked black ooze. A tremor in the witness's heart, an instant fear that riled up her spirit, the marring truth. Not of the scene, but the contents, a vile coming, the threat of everything was right before her as the molten black ooze spills, and spills, from his eyes and ears and nose and mouth, drowning himself in its burning horror like lava.

"Jeanne..."

The pitch-dark ooze pours through their uttering teeth. The black liquid extends throughout the surroundings, the screams becoming even louder.

"Jeanne!..."

Their eyes propped open through the darkness. Eyes like stones made from blood, and it burns through the witness's chest. As hot as it had been that moment, but even then, the heart had not died, untouched by the cruelty of the accusers.

But this one has, by whatever that caused their state. The tormented suffering that gagged the scream of the holder of these eyes.

Red eyes filled with-

"-eanne. Jeanne!"

She awoke with a start and a gasp. Few sweats fell from the side of her face. She hears the running tracks of the train and felt the resonance of its continuing travel, recalling where she was as she looked out the glass window, the distant morning sun coming to a steady rise beyond the grassland hills.

"You alright?"

She looked back at the person who awoke her, his eyes of gold that held concern, the strands of his golden locks that fell down the sides of his face, their color more prominent than her own soft sunny blonde hair. He held her arm with his gloved hand, and he was leaning forward from his seat, almost standing as he had urged her wake.

"Bad dream?" Edward asked.

Falling to her calmer sense, Jeanne settles down the wracking fear she had just experienced, and nodded gently. "Yes I... I believe so."

She knew it to be more than that, yet it may as well be considered a nightmare all the same. She had these sorts of visions in her life, with two most prominent; the first her heard of God's voice, and the second her inevitable end. Events of what is to come, told in arbitrary scenery, left for her to decipher.

There is much to consider what the vision is foreboding of, but it led Jeanne to confirm her already long-planted suspicions. Something truly sinister is at the works, the people in her dream with only one she recognized, the source of her most discomforted feelings as well the one to truly crumble her normally calm judgment - the Red Faction, without a doubt, they are a group she must attest to. The underlining fear of an awaiting peril that is hiding somewhere in the planes of Amestris.

"Well I'll bet. You were kind of moving around in your seat," Edward said, releasing her arm and sat back down.

She felt a bit sheepish at that, of course, it made sense, even if Jeanne would be accustomed to having such visions, this was Rose's body she was sharing with. So even if the dream was disturbing, her fear of it heightened by Rose's own reaction. It must have made her so afraid, this was their first intensely lucid vision since Jeanne came to this world. She internally checked in with Rose, and to her relief, Rose reached back in returned console, surprised without a doubt, but fine.

Jeanne looked aside her and found two empty seats there. "Where are Winry and Alphonse?"

Seeing her out of her dreaming "Oh, they went to get some extra snacks at the next cart. They'll be back in a bit." He yawned then, stretching his limbs, "Can't believe I let Al convince me to bring Winry along, this just makes things harder than it should be, especially with her sitting over there."

Jeanne looked around her seat, finding the dark haired doll that sat alone just a few rows behind. "I can imagine..."

Edward sighed deeply, "Well, it's not like we had much of a choice..." He first checked his surroundings, when it was evident that not many people were too close or listening, he then said, "It's either we leave a homunculus wandering around in Central, or we bring her with us."

He deeply grimaced, "And we sure as hell weren't going to do that other thing Caster suggested. Honestly, there's something wrong with that guy."

What Edward was referring to was Caster's offer to... well, putting it simply, fold the newly-born homunculus until she was appropriately sized to fit in a briefcase and carry her around without much worry. Hearing that, however, greatly distraught Edward and Alphonse, and they outright demanded that Caster would not do that, which the mage Servant easily obliged, and they all agreed to simply purchase a ticket for her so that she may travel with him, until Winry may return back home.

Jeanne too had felt that great discomfort for the pragmatic and horrifying way to transport the artificial assistant, even if she was simply that, as the laws of human rights not expanding to creations like that homunculus, such was the thinking of most Magus.

It was actually quite heartfelt that the Elric brothers had already and automatically saw the homunculus as a living being to be treated respectfully, never mind her artificial construction. Another display of their kind humanism, Jeanne couldn't help but smile.

At the mention of Caster, and seeing as Winry was not present, Jeanne then asked Edward, "By the way, have you been able to tell colonel Hughes and major Armstrong about Archer and Caster?"

Edward's grimace lessened, but not away, "I was getting to it, but since the Fuhrer made that surprise visit, it kind of threw off that whole plan. The colonel and major then had to get back to work, and they left before I got the chance to tell them."

He rested the side of his face against his hand, elbow against the edge of the large window beside them, "Might have been for the best, I don't think I would have stopped either of those guys from telling not to go through with what me and Al are doing, but... if it ends up that they have to know, then we have to tell them." It was as simple as that.

He stares out the window, "For now, the next person we definitely have to talk to about Archer and Caster, is our teacher. Even if we try avoid mentioning those guys and they keep out of sight, there's no way she won't notice that homunculus. Plus..."

He visibly paled, "I doubt she'll appreciate any more secrets we keep from her, once she finds out what me and Al did..."

If performing Human Transmutation despite her severe warning was a death sentence, then keeping the fact that they "may sort of" performed a second one on accident, with the false soul having created an artificial human being, Izumi Curtis will make it her mission to not only kill, but also drag their souls right down to hell.

He wanted to cry again, but he kept it inside as he outwardly shivered in fear before calming down. "And if we want her to help us out with what's happening out there, then we definitely can't keep her in the dark, especially from this."

"A very sound reason," said a mature voice of a man, "This teacher must be someone you trust wholeheartedly."

Edward jolted from his seat. Archer appeared out of apparition, and seated at the chair right beside Edward in lax but also elegant comfort. Hands folded over his waist with one leg over the other. "I'm now very curious to see what sort of person your alchemy instructor is. This should be an interesting experience indeed."

"What the hell are you-?!" Edward shushed his beginning shout as he looked around the cart. No body seem to have noticed, all of them still very asleep. He harshly reprimanded the Servant in a low voice, "Are you crazy?!"

Jeanne was also not so pleased. "Archer. Even at your discretion with the people asleep on board, this is still overstepping yourself."

"My apologies," Nikola bowed his head in apology. "I felt compelled to speak my own thoughts openly, since our young Alchemist here is not adept in the magi's proficiency of telepathic communication."

Edward was about to yell at him quietly, but then paused, his face dropped to a surprised one, "Wait hold on. There are people who... can actually do that?"

It would have been another ridiculous notion Edward would laugh at, but considering what has happened these last couple of weeks, it was a safe bet not to outright disregard everything being said, especially by this literal ghost man.

Nikola nodded, "Indeed. From what I have heard anyway."

Jeanne chose to explain then, "Mages do have the ability to communicate with each other through a sort of telepathy-like ability. This practice is a common use between Master and Servant, as due to their contract, they can provide each other information at long distances, or exchange private information while speaking to another person openly in front of them."

"Caster may be able to provide a greater in-depth explanation for this," Nikola said. "Which, I believe I should mention, is currently attending to his homunculus there."

Edward abruptly got up to see this, and just as Archer had said, there was indeed Caster; Paracelsus, holding the hand of the homunculus, speaking to her while holding up fingers he closes one by one, with the homunculus following along; an evaluation to her response mechanisms.

"Him too?!" Edward tried very much not to awake the other passengers.

"His homunculus was designed under limited resources. During the time of her creation that every store was closed because of the attack on that city, he was left with whatever he could manage in that kitchen of the room you and your brother were staying at, and as such, his homunculus has not fully developed yet."

He then looked at Edward, and the bagged suitcase he has beside his leg. "There's also the second one you had him demonstrate to prove his legitimacy. That one hasn't even left the womb of that jar. I've only dealt minor studies of homunculi, but I understand that if it does not fully developed outside from their vessel soon after gaining conscious, it may risk either inflammation and will grow beyond that small jar, or decay back to pieces."

A brief look of panic flashed in Edward's eyes as he looked down at the hidden item had had with him, concealed in a bag he had tied closed many times over so that no one would just easily uncover this damning product that will automatically condemn Edward and Alphonse to a life-sentence.

"But then again, with Caster here, I'm sure he can take care of the second homunculus so that neither reaction will happen," he added with dark humor, "That is, if you are interested in owning an artificial being as your own personal pet fish."

"That's enough, Archer," Jeanne told Nikola firmly.

He waved a hand in appease, and delivered his point, "All I am saying is if you have any intention of what to do with that other homunculus, if you feel that the one over there with Caster, have much of a right to be respected as a living being, then what of the one in that jar? Are they excluded because of their lack of human traits? Should they simply remain there in forever wondering of itself, in a place it is essentially trapped in?"

A deep thought in Edward's frown, staring at the concealed jar for a brief moment. He then responded, "Whether it's an animal, a human, or even a bug, all life has value. Not only are they alive, but they can help bring life to others..."

He reaches down and picks up the bagged jar, holding it in his hand as he looked down at it solemnly, "Humans like us need to eat, so we eat from the life of earth, its animals and its plants. The same goes for animals, and even plants, thriving off from a source that granted them life and strength. Everything alive... They're all precious, without it, we'd just be husks of ourselves. It's an eternal circle of equivalent exchange; All is One, and One is All."

With a fierceness in his gaze, he spoke calmly but determinedly to Archer, "That being said, even if whatever's alive can't eat, but they can feel things like pain or sadness, then those lives are precious too. Even if..."

His eyes softened as he looked to the direction of the dark-haired homunculus, and then returned to the one he held between his hands, "Even if this little guy might not know that yet... If it could think and have a chance to know the kind of things life has to offer, all of its trials, but also the joy of it too... then who am I to deny it from that? To give it a chance, to know what it's like to be alive?"

A wave of warmth swarmed Jeanne's heart as she saw that gentle kindness in the little homunculus that awaits in that jar. An impassive but attentive look from Nikola as he listened to the words of this teenager, who seems to have the great mass of wisdom that not many - save himself - would possess in his lifetime, at least, not those he has known personally.

Nikola would have liked to have known a person like this in his time. He had many intellectual friends, but there was something very appealing to the sort of respect and understanding of life and the world that someone like Edward held, that Nikola honestly felt somewhat disappointed that he did not get to meet someone who held such values and views. An abrasive person, with a gentle soul.

"I know for sure that I can't just leave this little guy in here forever. If it's just waiting until it can become something like her over there," he referred to the first homunculus seated somewhat afar, "and since it's already alive, then I'm not just gonna stop it from being what it's going to be, and keep it trapped here. It should be able to move as free as all of us. I just need to figure out the best way to do it."

And what to do with it once he incidentally allows its growth to happen. The stress of it having its hold, but he knew better than to treat this now living creature as if it was in its own prison.

Without a thought, Jeanne reached forward. A gentle press of her fingers against his hand that held the hidden, undeveloped homunculus, he looked up at her touch. "Then I will help you, Ed. I'm sure there are many ways we can help it grow and know the wonders of life. It deserves that much."

Her smile angelic and comforting, Edward looked down at her hand, a familiar warmness that traveled through his own. Eyeing back at her, he allow a hint of his own smile to show, an appreciation.

A slight grin from Nikola, a smile that came for several reasons with a soft glint in his eyes. He looked behind him then, hearing the approaching presence of the two other people, and took this as his cue to leave. "Well then, I believe I have a better grasp of you now, Edward. I shall take my leave now, if anything comes up that I may contribute, call out to my name and I shall come."

Edward breaks his gaze away and side-glares at the taller man, "Sure. If you can actually do that and not just show up anyway."

The low hum of Nikola's laughter remained as his figure faded into his spirit form, once again unnerving and muffled appalled to Edward's question of reality that he was becoming so accustomed to, he wasn't outright slacked-jaw by it now. Hearing the footsteps behind, Jeanne retreated her hand as Edward looked up, they see Winry and Alphonse approaching, bags of snacks in their hands.

Edward abruptly looked forward for where Paracelsus was, but he finds that the mage had already vanished, and the homunculus was left to herself once more. He sighed in relief, but then remembered the jar he still held in his hand and he quickly, but carefully as well, puts it back in hiding behind his suitcase beside his leg, and settled back into his chair, trying to look at ease as possible.

"Hey guys. We got some pretzels. Who's hungry?" Winry asked.

Jeanne smiled at her friend and offered her hand out, accepting the given bag of treats, "Thank you Winry, Alphonse."

"You know, you can just call me Al, Jeanne," Alphonse said as he takes his seat next to Edward. "It's what everyone calls me anyway. You don't have to be polite, we're all friends after all."

With a flutter in her heart at being involved in that circle, along with the elated feeling Rose also expressed, Jeanne held the brightest expression she could hardly contained, "Then... Thank you, Al."

Edward glanced at her gentle yet jovial face, her expression of gratification as if she had been afraid, or did not think it actually would. True, she may have been part of this strange happenings that's been going around in Amestris, but she had helped them in many ways, saved them from danger every time she was around. They would have to be really picky people for them not to see her as a friend already, even for all her secrets she's kept.

He returned his gaze out to the window, their next stop not for another day.

"-Mm! This is the best pie I've ever had! Mrs. Hughes really outdone herself," Edward complimented as he savored and enjoy the sweet fruity delicious of the apple-caramel pie cakes he takes a single bite from. They were having a bit of a light meal with the basket Winry was given generously by Gracia Hughes, filled with warm deserts and appetizers to help fuel their energy for this trip they were on.

"I know right? She really is an amazing cook," Winry said, expressing her delight as she watches her friends eat the pie cakes and other treats they were gifted with by the kind wife of the lieutenant colonel. Jeanne nodded wholly in agreement, the warm taste and syrupy-like delight of the pie, holding the small cake in a napkin she held, a blissful expression that took her back home down in her memories.

"Delicious~" Jeanne hummed. A sudden jolt of her acknowledgement to her outward reaction and she flushed. "Er, excuse me." She especially felt ashamed at having to enjoy such wonderful tastes, when the armored being right there before her tragically could not do the same. It was almost taunting in a way, and she never meant to.

"Hahaha, you're fine, Jeanne," Alphonse reassured her as he write down in his little notebook, listing the apple small pies in his food to eat list, "I honestly can't wait, when I get my body back, that I can try those pies one day. I even wrote down to try the quiche Mrs. Hughes made, it looked so good."

"Oh yeah. It really is. You're going to enjoy it once we get you back to normal, Al," Edward promised.

Winry smiled warmly as she looks down at the already half-eaten quiche, "Mrs. Hughes was so nice enough to give me the recipe. Once I got it down, when you get your body back, you can give it a try, Al."

"Really? Thanks Winry!"

Edward smiled along, looking out the window and its beautiful day. "Mrs. Hughes really is a kind woman. I like her, unlike that annoying lieutenant-colonel who just gets into people's business and spoil his daughter. He'll be turning her into a rotten brat if he doesn't calm down."

"Mr. Hughes doesn't seem all that bad," Winry defended the man, an adoring remembrance to his incessant cuddling to his precious daughter on her birthday. "Honestly, he's a great father and husband, a real good guy. If I ever come back to Central, I'm going to visit the Hughes family again."

Alphonse nodded, "Yeah. We should too, right brother? He's been helping us so much with everything, even checks in sometime to see if you and I were alright."

Even during such intense times when Central was under lock down and Hughes had to obliged to his duty to keep an eye out for the city's perimeters while everything is taken under care, Hughes was still able to manage the time to come and visit Edward, just to talk and see the brothers.

Edward's annoyed face of the man softened, a true appreciation to the figure in mention, "Yeah. He's always been looking out for us and visiting us whenever. It gets kind of annoying, like he's an overbearing mother hen or something..." He smirked, "I should think of a way to make it up to him somehow. I guess we might as well visit him next time, but I'm not making it a habit."

Although he said it to keep up with his curt attitude, it was obvious that indeed, Maes Hughes was a good friend to the Elrics - a good friend and a good man to all of them. Jeanne thought back a conversation he had with him, a talk that came up suddenly, when she noticed an old war picture she accidentally came across.

She had been so thankful and moved of the Hughes family's generosity that she thought a little cleaning around their house was something she could offer. It was then, when she noticed an uneven drawer at the living room, that she went to adjust it properly, and an old photo had slipped out from under. She picked up to put it back, but stopped as she looked at the photo, and saw the familiar spectacles-wearing man alongside other familiar faces, recognizing the colonel Mustang and the lieutenant Riza.

The photo seems to have been taken at their young adult days, with the background a desert sort of place, all the soldiers in the photo wearing white coats, dirty from ground dusts and scuffed marks. It was honestly a remarkable thing, to find an actual picture that memorializes a moment with just a flash, however, this picture did not show any sort of fond feelings, as not one of the person were smiling, but cold stoic of a soldier.

"Ah. Looks like you found that old thing, huh?"

Jeanne "eep'ed!" and turned around. She would have noticed the man approach had she felt any hostility from him. She stood up then and with embarrassed and shameful eyes, lowered her head as she offered the photo to its owner. "I'm sorry. I thought of doing a bit of chores around, as a way to thank you for letting me stay here, and I found this."

"Oh, well you didn't have to do that, you're our guest here after all," Hughes walks up and looks at the photo, calmly taking it from her hands, a blank expression behind his glasses as he simply stares a visual piece of the past.

"This was taken during the Ishval War. Honestly, I almost forgot I hid it there. Old wounds pushed at the back of the mind, but it's always somewhere around."

"The Ishval War..." Jeanne softly spoke, mind turning as she picked up whatever knowledge she had of that event that occurred decades before. "I've heard of it. I believe I remember Major Armstrong mentioning his participation in it as well."

And from what it could be told, it was not a pleasant war. No war ever is, and yet, there was a subtle haunting to it she noticed in the Major when the topic of the war was brought up in Resembool, that she wondered exactly what was seen in this war.

Hughes' eyes were sullen, his smile gone. "Yeah, he was in it, but didn't stay for long. I imagine he still beats himself up for it, but honestly, he had the better sense to turn away. To openly object the wrongness that was that damn war."

It was the same tone, now, it was more noticeable, that haunting sense of anger and guilt. "What happened there?"

Hughes glanced to Jeanne, and turned back at the photo with a sad smile, "If I tell you, you'd hate me, just like how a lot of people have already against the military. Heck, I sometimes hate myself just as much."

She approached to his side, "I do not judge others, Mr. Hughes. Not certainly something that has long been passed. Also, I find it unjustifiable to hate on someone who has been so generous and kind to allow me into their homes, when I am hardly known as someone other than an associate of the Elric brothers. You will not have that kind of response from me, I am your guest after all."

Hughes looked at her for a moment, his smile strained, "Kind huh? Well, that certainly wasn't what happened back then." He takes a seat at the couch, Jeanne taking a seat beside him, waiting patiently for him.

"...It was an awful war. Sure, there's no war that's ever nice, but this one..." A grimace in Hughes' face. "There have already been tense relationship between us and the Ishvalans. Some minor conflicts here and there, but nothing major..."

His eyes darkened as he looked at the photo, "Then suddenly, it all went to hell. It was so inexplicable, I still can't wrap my head around it. One of our own, an Amestrian soldier, shot an Ishvalan child on the streets, in open plain view. According to the witnesses, the little girl was just standing there, and all she did was smiled at the soldier. It was completely unprovoked. What happened to that little girl... it was murder. Simple as that."

Jeanne listened with a calm face, as her heart murmured in sorrow prayer for the little girl, and the equal bafflement of such a senseless kill.

"The soldier ran away, but was later tracked and immediately prosecuted. What's strange though is that he kept claiming that he was innocent. Not the kind that denied what he did was wrong, or trying to avoid the consequences, he firmly stated he wasn't the one who shot her, even though there were several witnesses who saw his face. I personally thought it was just odd that he would do something so heinous in front of the other Ishvalans, like he wanted to be seen."

He shook his head, "It's pointless to try and make sense of it now, what mattered was that he was identified by infallible witness accounts, even other soldiers who were in the area, and he was put to death."

He frowned, "But that was the last straw. The Ishvalans declared war against us, pushing any and all Amestrian soldiers away. State Alchemists were sent to the front-lines, and were able to overpower them quickly, the rebellion was essentially pushed back and ceased."

A mortified expression crinkles through his attempted impassiveness, "And then... we all received a new order. As a way to show military might, the Amestrian soldiers were ordered to exterminate the Ishvalan people; every one of them. Soldiers and civilians alike."

He reached up underneath his glasses, rubbing his closes eyes with his fingers. Jeanne was unmoving, but she listened.

"Any soldier who refuses to follow the order were dismissed from the battlefield or demoted, even arrested. It was an order delivered by the Fuhrer himself, and when the Fuhrer gives an order, you follow it, without questions, without compassion."

He lowered his eyes that were glossed with an immense weight of his guilt and loathing. "It was an absolute massacre, innocent bystanders running away, cornered by Alchemy and then shot down like animals..." He was speaking freely, it was honestly a surprise even to himself, but he felt... oddly sanctify around her, and he's been keeping this array of emotions bottled for so long, and before he knew it, a little unscrewing of the cork and the liquid just started flowing.

"Major Armstrong managed only a short while before he and several others couldn't take it anymore. Me on the other hand, along with others," He looked back down at the photo in his hand, looking at the face of Roy Mustang and himself, the disillusionment to the belief in the just cause of the military, so apparent in their eyes that have been empty of their innocent glow.

"We followed through with the command. We felt that we didn't have a choice, or at least, that was what a lot of us thought back then. Maybe we could have done something, but we didn't have the power or will to defy, otherwise, we'd be ostracized and criminalize for not only disobeying but deliberately trying to go against the Fuhrer's order."

His eyes lowered, "I still have nightmares about that war, what we did. I didn't think I'd ever get a chance at peace after all the horrors I've seen and done..." A slow smile came, "Then I married the love of my life, and had a beautiful daughter together. I honestly thought I wouldn't deserve anything so wonderful as a family like this. In the war, Gracia was what helped me through the war, and the life we would share when I come back home."

His eyes glistened, "I know that it doesn't sound fair, since the Ishvalans were fighting for the same reason, because one of their own, an innocent child nonetheless, was killed unjustly, and that someone like me, who had followed through with that order, shouldn't be so happy after so many innocents have died."

"That is not true."

Jeanne interjects, catching Hughes off-guard as she looked at him with firm, caring eyes. "Everyone has the right to love and have happiness, and my heart grieves that such an awful thing had happened to those people, and grieves just as so that someone as kind, as gentle, and loving as you are, have been put in such a horrendous situation."

She grabbed his hand and held it firmly, "The Ishvalan people have loved so greatly that the sight of such terrible injustice ignited their rage, but you have also loved, and with a child of your own, with a beautiful wife and a wonderful home. You have followed what you had no other choice in, and you have done so for the sake of someone who awaited at home, with her love to help you through it. It is not undeserved, it is a gift, and everyone should know of it, treasure it, even after the sins committed."

Her smile held such a beautiful kindness to it as she added, "For you to hold those regrets, to remember those people whom you know should not have died the way they did, especially those who were not part of the fight, you are indeed a kind man, and I am glad that such a wonderful man, even for all the horrors that the war has haunted you with, you have survived, and managed to come home, bringing joy to the people who love you so very much. I am certainly glad that I was able to meet such a wonderful man, who has given me a place here, welcomed without question. I can never thank God enough that I was able to know someone as beautiful as this family, and the heart of the man who adores them every minute."

A stunned silence from Hughes for a moment, and then a sudden chuckle in his throat as his wavering smile was consoled, "You really are something, huh Jeanne? You're definitely gonna make a guy fall for you hard one day."

A bit of a flushed emotions in Jeanne from his statement, he grips back her hand in gentle accepting comfort, "Thank you, Jeanne. Hearing you say that, it reminded me why I kept fighting. One day, we're going to make right for what we've done. It probably wont' be for some time, but I know that there are a lot of people who knew what happened was wrong, and we're going to work our hardest to make past due."

A frown came upon him, "That's actually what Scar is trying to accomplish, by killing state alchemists. I can't say I blame him, he must have watched a lot of his family and friends be murdered right before his eyes."

Jeanne's eyes softened with sympathy at the thought of the man, whose heart fills with vengeful tragedies. "The greatest pain will come from those who held the most sensitive of hearts. It does not justify his killings, more blood and death will only lead to more sadness."

"Not saying it does, which is why he needs to be stopped," Hughes said, "So far, he's left Amestrian civilians alone, but I can't say if he won't outright attack anyone he might see as standing in his way. Which is why we have to find him as soon as possible, so be careful out there Jeanne. From what I heard, you were able to stand against him, something that even trained officers and state alchemists could never achieve alone, which means you're a threat to him. If you happen to come across him again, run away if possible, and contact or reach the nearest police station so you won't have to deal with him alone."

His concerns for her well-being was so full of warmth and care, she was utterly moved by it, even though she was a person who has known war and has the strength of a Servant, but his worries were shared by her as well. Should Scar find out the secrets to deconstruct her prana-filled materials she has on her, then even her life as a Servant will not escape uninjured from the ability of that man that seemed comparably unique to both Alchemy and Magecraft. She does not know the exact nature of his unique ability, or even why he is using it if he despised Alchemy so much, but it is without a doubt a dangerous weapon he has at the literal palm of his hand.

She would rather not kill him. He was a sorrowful man, his hatred his only form to cope, and his action to be a necessity he does in the name of God - much to her own sadness of it as she now realizes his intention to not be of blasphemy or twisted belief of God's mercy, but a conviction that saw the horror that disavowed God by killing his people. He held that tone as well, that there was no plane of peace that awaited him, not here or in the after life, and he has committed himself to that road of self-serving damnation.

She honestly wanted to save that tortured person. But, she cannot let her emotions abide her, for he had threatened to murder Edward because of his status as a State Alchemist, not for his part in the war which, at the time, he had been too young to understand of. She cannot forgive him for that, therefore, if he intends to harm Edward again, then she will stop him right then and there, so that he may yet be saved from his own damnation, and so that no more innocents will have to perish under the prejudice of past horrors.

"I know that look, Jeanne."

Snapping out of her thoughts, Jeanne looks to the teasing grin of Hughes. "You're thinking of those brothers aren't you? Or maybe just Ed, right?"

The fact that she could be read so easily just like that, Jeanne flustered, "O-oh. Th-that's, um..."

He laughed lightly, patting her hand, "Don't worry, I understand. He's under as much danger as you are, Alphonse also if he's around to help his brother. I know that you would want to protect the both of them, I pretty much got that sense from you. Just don't get too careless, the three of you should look out for each other together, it's a lot better than having to face something alone. I think it'll put a lot of people at ease."

Her heart calming, Jeanne conceded to Hughes' point, and his expression warmed. "And Jeanne, I certainly hope, that whatever you need to get done in your journey, when you find whatever you're looking for,you get to have that same kind of happiness that's kept me going all this time."

There was that hopeful gaze, lifted from his inner turmoil of kept regrets, as he felt appeased by her words. Jeanne felt loved that he would grant her those words, so much that she avoided the feeling of sadness at his hope for her life. She held his hand with great care, and smiled.

"Thank you. I know though, that I already have." Such kind people, to have met such caring and loving families and friends in this world. Truly, it was a blessing, and she prays she will bring these memories with her once this journey does indeed end.

An appreciation in his eyes, they looked back for the photo in his hand, the past memories of the haunted, as if to reassure the people in the photo. A determined glint behind his glasses, of what had been wronged to be righted, not to themselves, but to those who have suffered the end of their chained loyalty. Even if things will never mend what had been wrought, it will never be forgotten.

She held his hand still, providing her own console as her heart prays to those who have perished terribly at this war. Her eyes examining the photo, and the white cloak the photographed soldiers wore, endured by the dusty winds of the desert and harrowing deeds worn as their badges their eyes held no pride in.

It was truly awful, for what happened that war, a truly awful event that brought a bitter and better understanding to Scar's vengeful quest, and cemented her distrust in the Fuhrer. How could such a terrible order be done to innocents? How could King Bradley force good men and women to paint their hands in this genocide? It wasn't simply cruel, it was purely uncalled for, especially after their obvious defeat. Why killed the Ishvalan civilians? How can such an order even be passed by this country's government at the time?

It was more so questionable than it was so atrocious - which it was. And it left her agitated, like an itch she cannot scratch away.

"I have to tell them... I have to save everyone..."

Her thoughts traveled back to the photo, the white coats those soldiers wore, the very coat she saw someone with an unseen face wear in her dream. The unease inside her was sharp, and she prays to God for comfort.

"You good, Jeanne?"

She leaves her thoughts abruptly and looks back to Edward who had spoken to her, and spotted Winry and Alphonse staring at her in wonder. Chastising herself for spacing out again, with what she imagine to be a thoughtful and concerned frown, she nodded instinctively, "Y-yes. I was... thinking."

He raises his brow at her. Jeanne's eyes lowered under his gaze, her sheepish feelings of dozing off that under wraps her grave feelings of last night's dream. Her embarrassment fleeting as she recalls the promise that urged her heart to speak. "...There is something I must tell you and Alphonse."

The Elric brothers gave their attention. Winry also looked in surprise at her serious tone before quickly remembering the topic she and Hughes had with Winry, and her eyes turned solemn.

Jeanne wished she could not give this news, while they were enjoying such delicious snacks cooked by Gracia, but she cannot withhold this any longer than she should. She had given her promise, and she must uphold it. To withhold important information would only bring greater pain in the long-run, she must not allow herself to leave these boys in blissful ignorance if they would only feel great pain later.

With a heavy heart but determined spirit, she looks to them with a steady gaze. "Back in Central, Hughes had informed me that Liore is under lock-down."

Edward choked on his eating pie, "W-what?" Alphonse joined his shock with an echoing gasp.

The Holy Maiden closed her eyes to keep control of emotions, emotions that which threaten to burst in Rose's grief for what has happened to her home and people. She resumed with an adamant voice, "There were riots. A civil war had broken out. There have been many casualties and injured. I... I don't know what happened either. I'm just as shocked as you are."

She grasps the white fabric of her dress as she bears telling this news. "The city is under military watch as they're trying to quell the violence, with no one aside themselves allowed entree into the city."

"J-Jeanne... I..." Alphonse's broke with appalling horror, sorrow for the girl beside him, and with a wonder to how and what could have caused this outbreak of sudden violence, a great guilt resides his soul as he tries so desperately to think what he could say to the girl, her staring with a narrowed expression to her lap in silence.

Edward's eyes darted for the ground, searching for any sense to this revelation. "Liore. A civil war? There's... there's no way..."

How could it have come to that? They stopped Cornello, and the people were openly thankful for the exposure of that fraud, and were left with entrusted measures of Eastern Command. How could it all go so wrong? What on earth happened?

Were he and Alphonse responsible for this? Did they actually caused more harm than they did to help? That's... that can't be! They never intended for anything like that to happen! They were just doing what they thought was right! Even as they were there for personal purposes, they couldn't have left that city the way it was with that lunatic running the show. So why? Why did this happen? Did they really just caused Liore to collapse into chaos like this?

Winry looked on worryingly as the brothers were lost in their own thoughts and words as they tried to fathom and accept this information. Alphonse stuttering to say anything, as he shared Edward's realization. How could Liore broke into violence? With many deaths and neighbors, friends of Jeanne to have met that fate? Was this their fault? Did they really left Jeanne's home for it to fell into ruins?

"I... I'm so..." Did Alphonse even had a right to apologize? A simple worded act when this girl's home was being destroyed, in a terrible state that no words could heal or fix or save, suffering just after the brothers left that place?

Edward, grasping his head as he tries to compose himself, rearing from this information with dreaded incomprehension and awful realization in his golden eyes.

"That shouldn't be possible... I send the report to Eastern Command and they came with troops to help Liore after Cornello's arrest. We made sure everything was settled and in surveillance before we left. How could it-"

His baffled gaze traveled up to Jeanne, and they wavered with heavy guilt. This girl's home...

They ruined it. They ruined this innocent girl's home.

"Jeanne... I..."

She looked up to him then, soft aquatic eyes with beautiful laced velvet that stared attentively at Edward, and he couldn't hold his gaze, dropping back down to the floor. Alphonse, after trying and failing, could only feel such sorrowful guilt in himself, and he lowered his head as well.

What can they say to her? What can they say to someone whose home they had tried to save, only for it to be destroyed, whose friends and neighbors of this girl have died?

"I'm so sorry..." Edward weakly uttered out, even knowing such an apology could never undo this inexplicable mess. "We... we didn't... we never wanted that to happen. We didn't realize just how much damage we really did-"

His hand was yanked from his forehead, pulling him away from his self-loathing as his golden eyes looked back at her aquatic ones, fierce and unwavering.

"It is not your fault. Neither of you brothers are responsible for this," the faithful girl swore to them of this.

"Jeanne..." Alphonse's pained voice broke out beside her, his armored body shaking, "We're so sorry. We never meant for anything like that to happen. We... we thought we were helping."

She sharply looked at his way. He flinched under her gaze.

"And you did," her voice held nothing but kindness and certainty. No resentment, or even tears.

"You helped us be free from Cornello's deception. Had it not been because of the two of you, Cornello would have certainly accomplished his goal, and so many more would have perished needlessly."

"B-but..." Alphonse voice cried, with a shakiness to it, "Your home... you can't even go back to it now..."

"We should have stayed. Made sure everything was going alright," Edward said with clenching teeth and a shameful grimace, his hold of her hand that grasped back, emitting his regretful feelings into his grip. "We should have done more, or been more careful. You don't have to be so kind. You don't have to forgive."

They expected to be punched or screamed at. Not to be reassured by a girl whose home they have destroyed.

"There's nothing to forgive."

Her words had a sharpness that pierced their hearts.

"Because I do not hold this against either of you boys. This is not your fault," Jeanne promised sincerely, "Whatever happened happened long after you left, and I firmly believe something else had caused this. I was there in its efforts and recovery from Cornello's tricks and deceits, everything was going fine. Whatever happened, you two were not the cause of it, and furthermore, you had saved Liore from a lie that could have killed us all. You boys only meant to do what was right, rather than allow us to lie in a bed of misguided hope at the whims of his ulterior motive. You freed Liore from that, you had all of our thanks for helping everyone see."

She gave a frowning thought, "I do suspect that perhaps there are those who still believed Cornello to be genuine, there have been such extreme loyalists that I confronted with before they were detained by the troops that arrived. I don't know how it could be possible even with Cornello himself confessing his entire ploy, it could be that they believed his confession to have been a deceit itself, or some other thing. Whatever the cause of this, if it was a violent skirmish between two groups that remained in belief of Cornello's deceits, and those who awaken past it, then those are actions done by them only, and you are not accountable on this."

She pulled his hand against her, surprising Edward as he was nearly taken right from his seat, his hand right against where her beating heart was she held with the firmest comfort and console. "I know for a fact that you two have been the most kind and the most noble people I've met, and that you would never have any intention capable of causing those destruction in Liore."

With one hand holding Edward's, she reaches the other for Alphonse arm, sliding it right around the empty metal limb as she held Alphonse against her as well in such comforting embrace, her eyes closing in a soft mental prayer for both of them.

"I do not fault either of you. You are not to blame. You have been the most genuine, driven pairs of brothers who loved each other, and are selfless and strong to carry the weight if responsibility you have for other people during your mission for true restoration, one which, I have never stopped praying to this day, that you will achieve it one day, and that I may be allowed to help you find it somehow."

Alphonse body equaled with such intense emotions of sadness and moved feelings for the compassion of Jeanne that he would have already started balling his eyes had he still has them. Edward stared in appalled at the angelic smiling girl before him, who opened her eyes and gaze only those such feelings, without anger or justified rage, even if it was just to vent a little, but she truly did not held either of them accountable, and she was still so willing to help them on their journey still.

He felt a familiar warmth to his hand again and he looked at it briefly, that comforting and soothing warmth she bestowed so ever gently from her firm grasp, that it amazed Edward further when he realized that it was his automail hand she was holding onto, and instinctively thought it to be the trick of the brain. This was the same feeling as before, the day that he and Alphonse met this girl, when she wished them their luck and achievement to find the Philosopher's Stone, to recover their bodies.

He didn't realize it as he looked back at her soft and beautiful blue-violet gaze, a small and warm smile that formed on his face, as the guilt in his heart began to feel at ease, lifted and carried away by the girl who honestly, seemed too good to even be real, to even be of this world.

Maybe she really was, just as she told them about these Servants, though it was still too baffling to accept, let alone make any sense of it.

Winry observed them in wondering, a slow crept of a smile forming at the brothers eased bodies and expression, and the heart of Jeanne to give these brothers comfort. Although she was not there, she would also think that it would have never been either Edward or Alphonse intention to cause anyone any harm, she was glad to see that Jeanne was able to get through to him. She ought to thank her someway, besides words of course. Her thoughts then shifted to the pies still left remaining in the basket, a swift idea coming to her head before she looked back at them.

After a bit of gazing, Edward looks back down to the hand that Jeanne hand, the hand which, she has against her heart. An instant notice of how they must look on the outset, and the fact that his hand was held against her chest, Edward recoiled back his hand, slipping out from Jeanne's fingers with a flushed expression and he retrieved himself into his seat, crossing his arms quickly as he looked out the window with an embarrassed face, clearing his throat repeatedly.

The others blinked at his reaction. Jeanne looked down at her hand, a brief moment of oblivious before she too realized the same conclusion as Edward and her face burst with light pink coloring, a fitting scheme for her pink bangs. Perhaps she may have been too forward, oh goodness she hopes she hadn't made him uncomfortable. It was so strange, since Jeanne had no qualms with these sorts of gestures as she had in her life. Rose however, is another story, and it seems the girl from Liore is actually quite a romanticist and easy to be feel fluttered than Jeanne realized. She should be more considerate and careful then, for their sake.

"... Even if you don't blame us, we were the ones who were in charge of investigating that city," Edward then said, easing down from his reaction as he stared solemnly ahead. "I can't help but feel responsible for it, and even then, it was your home. A home you can't even go back to if you wanted to, not right now anyway."

They once had to burn down their homes, so that there would be nothing to draw them back, not to that place where that horrible nightmare first emerged in that house that used to be filled with such warm memories of their mother, and only cold ones from their father before his sudden abandoning. They made their choice when they burned down that house, but Jeanne's, not only her home but whole city, she never made that choice, someone or something else did, and she didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to it.

He honestly wishes she would hate them, hate him really, as he felt it to be a just and deserved punishment.

Alphonse, moving past the odd reaction of his brother, nodded in agreement as he stared down at the hold Jeanne had around him. He wishes he could feel her hold, and yet the action alone was enough for him to be warmed by it. For her to not hold blame against them even though she had every right to, since what happened to Liore, happened after their visit. She didn't deserve what happened to her city. She didn't deserve to be suddenly homeless. "We're so sorry Jeanne..."

Jeanne leaves behind her embarrassment as she Alphonse's apology, holding his arm ever closely, though much to her own sorrow as she imagined Alphonse' as well, it could not be felt, but the sentiment was certainly there.

"I wish you did not need to feel so much guilt," Jeanne said with a soft look, "But thank you, for your hearts that cared for the people of Liore. I'm sorry that I had to ruin this wonderful time with such morbid news, I... I just didn't want to let you go unknowing."

Edward gazes away from the window, closing his eyes as he pressed his hands together, leaning forward with his elbows over his knees. "No. You... Thank you for telling us. We would have felt like fools if we kept going, not knowing what happened. I'm pretty sure Hughes wanted to keep this from us also, didn't he?"

He looked up to Jeanne for confirmation, and she slowly nodded. "He did not want for you to feel terrible. I agreed with him, but I also couldn't keep this to myself, not after..."

Not after she swore she would not withhold anything to these brothers. It did not matter if it was related to the war or their journey, the promise was that if it had anything to do with them, with the Elric brothers, like the Philosopher's Stone has, then they must know. The truth would be undoubtedly difficult to swallow, and the pain it will inflict, but it was much better than to let it fester and hit them like a speeding train that came out of nowhere.

"Yeah... that sounds like him," Edward said with less strained look before wondering to himself. How did Hughes find out about what happened to Liore? Well, there could have been few reasons, like either Mustang told Hughes about it, or Hughes wanted to know more about Jeanne and he found out about this. It's also worth noting that, for a riot to happen and shake the entire city enough for the military to get involved, he would think of all places, Central would be the one to get wind of it faster than anyone else.

"...I know we shouldn't be the ones to feel this bad, especially since you're the who had a much better right to ot than we do," Edward added with a frown, "If anyone has the right to be angry or sad, it's you. We should have been there to stop anything like that from happening. We... we're sorry Jeanne."

He added in sincerity for the girl whose home has been blocked off from her by violence. Jeanne nodded in gratitude for his and Alphonse's condolences, closing her eyes for a moment, "I pray that Liore will one day be ceased of its blood-bath. I only wish I could go over there and help..."

A sudden scowl from his solemn frown as Edward turned back for the window. Jeanne did not notice his expression, as she was focused in the sense of longing of Rose, wanting to visit her home and help whatever caused its sudden outcry of blood.

Jeanne would very much want that as well. She wanted to so much, to help the kind people she had gotten to know briefly, the people she began to known from Rose's memories, and her attachment to them based from Rose's own feelings. But, she cannot. Not while there is a war happening to the rest of this land, a war that will endanger the many many lives of Amestrians, not unless she may step up and find the source of which rattled her discomforting heart. The darkness that which haunts her in her dreams.

Alphonse leaned forward, looking over to Jeanne, "Do you have any place you can go to after you're done with your journey?" Depending on how well Liore can be quelled of its violence, it may take a long time. During that time, even if anyone like Jeanne would be allowed back in, if it's as bad as he thinks it is, there might not even be a stable house to come back to if someone or a group of someones were to break in for everything it had, or even destroyed...

It was actually an honest relief that Jeanne is with them now. She's strong, without a doubt, but he felt comforted to know that she was here and not in danger in that city, he didn't even want to think of what could have happened to her, fearing the life of their friend whose city they had stopped by, and left oblivious to what would then occur later afterwards.

"The Hughes family and I offered her a place to stay at our homes," Winry then spoke up, a smile smile on her face, though her eyes still showed its sympathy and sadness of the news re-heard. "I was there when lieutenant-colonel Hughes told Jeanne about Liore, and we both made the same offer."

"Really?" Alphonse asked, looking back at Jeanne who nodded in confirm.

"Yes," the faithful girl said, "It was such wonderful offers, and I will carry it with me always should I ever need. Thank you again, Winry."

"Huh. Yeah, that's something the lieutenant-colonel would do," Edward said with a find smirk, it did nothing to alleviate his feelings, but they were not as clutching now, the words of Jeanne calming for this brief period.

It was good to hear that Hughes and the brothers childhood friend Winry was able to lay out the safety net for Jeanne if ever she couldn't go back to her city by the time they're finished with this Grail War business, especially since a civil war could take a while for the city to recover eventually from. If not for them, Edward and Alphonse would had to do whatever they could to give Jeanne compensation in someway, use their money earnings to keep her at a hotel or house, anything they could do.

It would not rid the remaining guilt, especially with all of Liore citizens suffering, but if they could help at least one of them, then that is a start they are more than willing to take, and be glad to do it even if it would leave them gritting-teeth and exhausted spirits to do so. They owe her that much.

"I really hope everything happening to your city gets settled soon," Winry said, "And never hesitate to call either of us. We'll help you, I promise."

Her heart moved once more, Jeanne reached out and leaned towards to Winry, whom the other girl reactively does the same, and they grasped hands, a firm and consoling hold that eased the sorrow in Rose's heart.

"I will heed you when and if that time ever comes, and I promise, I will never take such an offer lightly, and I hope to show my thanks to you and lieutenant-colonel Hughes one day, if God be willing," Jeanne spoke her gratitude once more.

A nod from Winry, they released their hands and retreated back to their seat.

"Honestly, Mr. Hughes really is such a good guy," Winry said, "I've been also wondering how I could pay back him and his family for letting us stay at their place for as long as they did. They've been so welcoming and kind, I want to give something that'd be really special if possible."

Jeanne nodded in agreement, "Yes. I would like to give Gracia and Elicia my thanks as well. They've all been such wonderful and endearing people."

She smiled in remembrance of the bubbling little girl, the beautiful woman of such graceful and gentle personality, and the kind man who boasted his family non-stop, a grin that would rid his the lingering experience of his war horror stories, in due to the loving arms of his loved ones. Oh how it warmed her heart so that such a beautiful family was met, and thanked God for leading her to them.

Diverted from the subject to this much lighter topic, Alphonse pondered with them, and offered a thought.

"Maybe you can try making those pies for them?" Alphonse suggested to Winry. "Mrs. Hughes gave you the recipe right?"

"That's what I was just thinking," Winry said, exclaiming her joy at the wonderful suggestion, "Alright! I'll study that recipe and practice my baking skills. Hopefully it'll be as good as her pies, and maybe Mr. Hughes might like it. Oh! Also, Jeanne, Mrs. Hughes asked me to lend you the recipe too if you're interested, we could both try making pies and surprise them with it."

Settling from her inner thoughts as the tone of the conversation shifted, Jeanne considers it, "Hm... it's been a while since I've done any baking. The only thing I've ever done by myself was made chocolate, and even then it... wasn't particularly anything interesting."

At best, most of her cooking is bland. Not too terrible, but nothing so extraordinary; simple and without secrets, in other words plain, just as she herself is, much to her own embarrassment. It seems though that Rose has quite some knowledge in the cookery department, but even then, Jeanne fears that her "boring" taste in the culinary will seep in. But it would be nice, and she would like to anyhow, to do something for Maes and Gracia, and especially for little Elicia.

"We can practice together. It'll be fun!" The very idea excites Winry, and evidently, Jeanne too fell for this suggestion, and she smiled with much calm eagerness. "I'm not much of a cook either, but I'm sure if we worked hard enough, it'll be great!"

Hard to deny that sunny expression - if she ever even thought to, Jeanne inevitably caved, the infectious eagerness roused her heart.

"Well... okay then!" She said with the gentlest happiness in her sweet voice. "I would love to practice with you, Winry, and give back something for the Hughes family to enjoy. I'll be sure to put in my all, so lets do our best!"

She shall make the best pies for that wonderful family to enjoy. Her hands clenched with much vigor and determination, the sight of her firm resolve in her aquatic velvet eyes and Winry's own anticipation brought a grin to Edward and a smile in Alphonse's soul.

"You said it! Hopefully, it'll be just as good as Mrs. Hughes," Winry said.

"Heh," Edward smirked more earnestly now, "We'll see, but considering how much of a gear head you are, I kind of worried you might accidentally spill in oil or bolts into the mix - ow!"

Winry rightfully bumped Edward's head with her balled fist, her face clearly not amused."Not funny."

"You didn't have to hit me so hard!" Edward angrily spouted.

"You're lucky it wasn't my wrench, don't be such a baby," Winry countered.

"You literally punched me!"

The abrupt switch in mood lifted by the girl from Resembool, Alphonse could not help but chuckle in amusement. Jeanne listens to the angry spiel between Edward and Winry, the delightful sounding amusememt of the younger Elric, the feisty wording of the Fullmetal Alchemist and the wrench-heavy retort from the other girl, the lifted despondency made room for this settle of lightened mood.

Without much restraint, much to her own curiosity, Jeanne soon bubbled a soft and gentle laugh along with Alphonse. Edward looked offended at the laughter, but seeing the small yet bright smile on Jeanne, and he found it not mind it at all.

It was an ease of of his burdened heart to see her still laugh even after knowing what's going on in her city. He doesn't know how right now, but he'll make it up to her, he'll find a way to see if he and Alphonse can help Liore, or at the very least, help this girl whose city was caged from the ruling scheme of a fake priest, and the follow-up that came after it.

He will look into it, even if it may stall their journey, he won't be so selfish as to avoid this, the home of this girl who expressed her want to help her city. He and Alphonse will do what they can about Liore, however it takes, for the people there they met and came to a better footing with, and for the girl who's willing to help them at their quest.

He sat at a normally cold room that was warmed before his seated waiting. The bluish room empty but himself, the chair he waits upon, and the rectangle table before him. His agitated feet tapping the ground as his arms were crossed, blue uniform dressed his body, his eyes closed with a subtle impatience of a scowl that could be seen behind the loose bangs of his black hair. The white gloves that covered his whole hands, with one a transmutation mark in it's back, a finger slightly tapping his own arm.

The doorknob to this room turns and he opened his eyes, the sight of an entering investigator of the same uniform greeted him, a worker of Central, a dark blonde male that was sent to speak with the seated man, the man Mustang has been waiting for. The investigator closes the door behind him and then moves for the other side of the table, in his hand were a folder that carried few files, a note pad and a pencil hemd in his fingers. He pulls out the second chair from the other side of the table and sat down.

"Alright. Thank you for your patience. I know you're a busy man, colonel. So let's get through this as quick as possible-"

"Just tell me what you know."

Mustang's voice cuts through the pleasantries, and the investigator gave a soft cringed, a hint of unease at the distinct temper of the infamous Flame Alchemist. Without another word, the investigator sets down the folder and opens it, photos and documents revealed that Mustang quickly eyes through. The first photos shown especially, taking his attention.

It was a photo of a phone booth, the receiver that hangs by the cord-line close over the puddle of blood on the ground. The second picture was a close-up of the receiver, the prints seen, and the owner of those prints already suspected and aware, and confirmed before Mustang had to be told, a gut feeling, and also, what this was all about.

"Yes sir. So for starters, you were called at your office late in the night from this phone booth. The prints here on the receiver have been identified to be Maes Hughes, with the blood still being analysed. The operator we've questioned also confirmed the caller to have identified himself as Maes Hughes, validating the code that was given."

Settling into his seat, the investigator looks to the narrowed eyed Mustang as he stares longer at the photos shown to him. "I know that you said to the other officers, that as soon as you were put through the line, there was no response. However, I'll need you to clarify this loud sound that you mention, a sound that came after you were only given silence."

As more photos were given, Mustang peers through them all from his seat just by glances alone. Searching and searching, and finding every photo having one thing in common. The one thing they were here for, to discussed about.

The attentive look of the officer examined the focused expression of Mustang as the Flame Alchemist finally lifted his eyes to meet with his.

"To the best of your ability, as much as you can recount, even just the smallest bit of detail, what did you notice when you answered the call? What did you hear?"

The investigator leaned forward a bit, "Also, if you can include your own inquiries, as someone who is a close friend and comrade of the lieutenant-colonel, what was it that he thought was "a matter of life and death?" And contact you late at night and through an outside line? What was it that lieutenant-colonel Hughes wanted to speak to you about?"

Mustang's dark gaze glares back at the photos, the one thing missing from all of them, and he frowns.

That's what I want to know.

Hello! Thank you all for your patience and reading! I've been sidetracked quite recently, aside from my new posting of a new fic, which I may get right back into to commemorate the ending of The Promised Neverland series. It's called A Promise Between Worlds, a multi crossover anime adventure featuring Emma as the main character and several others joining her journey for the Promised Wish.

Q/A:

Maxim7: 1. Yes. With the existence of Magecraft being revealed to the world, their Mystery will dwindle. Paracelsus, however, wants everyone to know about it so that science could further evolve and help a lot of people. Perhaps he has a way to make up the lost Mystery, but unfortunately, because he threatened to reveal the existence of Magecraft, the Clocktower had to stop him. He was never meant to be killed because he was a rare genius magus, it might have been an accident, but I personally think he was just too much of a threat to be allowed to live. I suppose you can say he had lived his life as a pleasant "Mad Scientist" who can't be trusted with most secrets.

2. Yes, Jeanne can sense that something will happen there. A threat that, although not overwhelming, will certainly affect all the people of that city. So it's up to Jeanne, the Elric brothers and their Servants to put a stop to it.

Greed is not part of the Red Faction. He wouldn't approve all the killing of innocent lives because to him, that's like stealing away the things he wanted before he gets the chance to have them. He's such a wonderfully selfish character who wants the whole world to be his. :D. He also doesn't really despise humans, probably because he's been living beside them all these years and enjoyed all the pleasantries he could enjoy as a free Homunculus. He actually finds humans appealing, and wants what they have. We shall see what the confrontation between Bradley's Servant and Greed will unfold.

3. Oh boy, just you wait! It'll probably take two or three more chapters, so all I can ask is for your patience!

4. Someone will definitely be teaching Scar about magecraft. I think it would be reasonable that it would be Avenger. It will also do him well not only against likely other Magus, but Servants as well if he is able to figure out the concept of Deconstructing Prana. Like how Kiritsugu is the Mage Killer, Scar has the potential to become a Servant Killer. Already notarized as a State Alchemist Killer. Of course, he has to have enough strength to compete against a Servant, so while he is fast, he would not do well against the likes of a Saber and Berserker, especially Servants who are even faster than him. So yeah, learning the ways of Magecraft can help him improve his chances against Masters and Servants.

Good catch! Although I did that on purpose. Haha! I'm going to keep the Servant ambiguous until the long eventual reveal.

Lastly. Yes, I know what Paracelsus has done, and he went full-magus in that story. However, I've read that he was actually "forced" to turn on the people he called friends because of the overwhelming pressure from that "particular girl" and her incredible power to influence Servants to join her side. And since then, Paracelsus has been in agony over his betrayal constantly and this is even brought over to Fate Grand Order where he remembered his actions and despises himself for it.

This Paracelsus, however, is a clean slate, so I have a bit more freedom to play into his kind side while also hoping to never downplay his Magus side, he's an enthusiast for Science after all. Of course, his chances of turning "dark" is not zero... but neither is most of anyone you can say. Mustang, for example, had went "dark" the moment he was faced with the murderer of his friend Hughes, even threatened to burn Edward's hand (either his real hand or his automail hand, I can't remember) just so he can kill Envy by any means. So yeah, Paracelsus going bad for personal pursuit is just the same chances as someone like Mustang going bad for personal revenge.

I'll be sure to put a spin on Paracelsus, he's already been introduced as the main antagonist in his story debut and in Fate/Grand Order, which Nikola Tesla has also been introduced as. I think it would be nice to place them in a position for good since neither Paracelsus or Nikola are wholly evil people who have done much for humanity.