A/N: Apologies again for the wait! To those of you who reviewed, thank you for your insightful comments and critiques. I do my best to plot this fic out, but with months between each chapter I'm afraid I tend to forget what exactly everyone is doing - heh, oops. Well, in any case, this chapter marks the end to this "arc" of sorts. Please enjoy!

AMESTRIS-2

"Bastard!" Edward shouted, struggling in vain to break free of the transmuted ropes wrapped around him. "You're not going to get away with this scheme of yours!"

The old man – Father – stared back, unruffled. White light shone down on him from above, blurring his decrepit figure into an indistinguishable glowing mass. Roy's eyes stung to gaze upon it. "You're jumping to conclusions. The multiverse could very well benefit from my plan, and in any case, I haven't said so much as a word about it yet."

"W-well, whatever it is, it can't be anything GOOD – "

Roy rolled his eyes. He and the other Ed were trapped as well – Father had hit them on arrival, before somehow shutting down their alchemy altogether. Alphonse was lucky he had missed it. "All right, then," he snapped at their captor, "tell us what you want with Amestris. Sacrifices deserve to know what they're being sacrificed for, don't you think?"

"Hmm. Very noble, Colonel, but I'd rather not shake your confidence with the truth. You've given a great deal to this country, after all."

Roy stiffened, refusing to let the oblique mention of Ishbal faze him. "It's no country of yours – "

"— oh, and you're not a sacrifice. Merely a spare, if you will. Remember that." The man untied their restraints. "Well, I think I'll turn your alchemy back on after you exit the laboratory. Goodbye, now."

They ran.

"You've got to be kidding," Roy muttered in an undertone.

It was a little past one in the morning, or it would have been, had he bothered to check his pocket watch. As far as he knew, it was the middle of the night – a night that had far overstayed its welcome. First the endless trek through the pipes, then a grisly fight with Lust and Gluttony, then the whole travesty with 'Father', then going back through the pipes… and now Scar. It beggared belief.

The wanted man's head poked silently out of the manhole not twenty-five feet away; a sitting duck if Roy ever saw one. But blocking their way to him was the Xingese girl Al had found somewhere in the tunnels. Only a child, an exhausted child liberally splattered with blood and muck – but the expression on her face was resolute.

"You there!" shouted Ed, waving at the girl. "Don't you know who he is? Get away from him!"

"I promised I would help Mr. Scar get to the shantytown," the girl answered, her voice shaking. A throwing knife glinted in her palm. "You can't attack a defenseless man!"

"We don't have time for this," said Roy impatiently. "I don't want to hurt you, but it's high time that man was brought to justice."

"Right," said Al. "He got away from us before, but this time we won't let anyone stand in our way!"

"Not before I talk to him first, at least," the other Ed added, his usual belligerence tempered by a rather different look – Roy didn't know him well enough to describe it, but had Ed and Al seen it, they might have dubbed it his thinking-about-home face. "Scar, stop telling this girl lies and let her go."

They squinted at him for a few moments, but there was no response; the man didn't even twitch. "Hey," whispered Al in the silence, "this is taking forever. Can't we just attack him from here with our alchemy?"

"Oh, right, you weren't there with Father," said Ed. "The leader of the homunculi, I mean. He turned it off so we couldn't attack him."

"What? No way!" Al clapped his hands experimentally; as expected, nothing happened. "I can't believe you waited till now to tell me. It's not gone forever, is it?"

The other Ed sighed and folded his arms. "He said he'd turn it back on later, but we've probably still got a good twenty minutes on the clock. Until those are up, we're all equally powerless."

"Hey! Stop chatting over there!" the girl cried. "I know what you four are up to with those schemes. You have the Philosopher's Stone, don't you?"

Roy couldn't resist gaping a little. "What?"

The girl pointed an accusing finger at the Fifth Laboratory still looming behind them. "You were running around in those tunnels like you knew them, and then kicking me out while saying you were doing me a favor! And Mr. Scar was an obstacle to your plans, so you took a chunk out of his arm, didn't you? Well, I won't fall for your tricks!"

They were too shocked for a moment to respond. "Wait, no, that's not right," Ed spluttered finally. "You've got it all wrong! Just let us explain –"

"Don't bother!" the girl shouted, suddenly brandishing her knife. No, not just one knife, Roy realized; there were five in her palm, small but dangerously sharp. He tensed, ready for one to come whizzing at his chest, but instead the girl turned and threw them point-first into a nearby wall. Then, before they could react, she traced a pentagram-like symbol in the grimy pavement beneath her and slammed her hand down on it.

A blinding flash of light shot into the air, and the wall exploded outwards, showering them in an impenetrable cloud of dust. "Come on, Mr. Scar, let's go!" the girl yelled off in the distance, followed closely by the sound of the manhole sliding back into place. Another spark lit the air briefly and was gone. The four raced forward, eyes watering, until they stumbled upon the manhole; try as they might, however, it refused to budge.

"She must have sealed it up with alchemy," Al said disappointedly as the air cleared around them. "Except I thought our alchemy was still blocked…"

"It is," said Roy, snapping his fingers to demonstrate. "But that display wasn't like any alchemy I've ever seen. I suppose they do it differently in Xing."

"Weird." Ed let out a massive yawn. "Well, whatever. I'm beat."

Roy was suddenly reminded of his own exhaustion. It was a miracle they were all still standing upright after four straight hours of running and fighting – though their clothes hadn't fared so well. No wonder the girl had mistaken them for villains. Roy scratched his head, stifling a yawn of his own. "Let's go back. We all have work to do tomorrow, if you haven't forgotten."

The four turned and trudged down the street. Al twiddled his fingers. "So, uh, are you planning to explain this whole situation with Father? I'd really like to know what I missed."

"There wasn't much to it," Roy told him. "The man shut us down as soon as we set foot in the room. He has a Philosopher's Stone – I don't know how, but he has one. I'm sure he could have killed us if he'd wanted to, but then he went ahead and waved us out. Seems he's got a plan for both universes, and it involves us. Oh, and apparently he bears a strong resemblance to your father."

Al made a noise of surprise. "What? What does Dad have to do with any of this? It doesn't make any sense!"

"I'll say," the other Ed grunted. "This place is all wrong. I knew Dante wasn't around here anymore, but now it turns out she never even existed. This Father guy started his plot, whatever it is, all by himself. And the homunculi, well, they're different too… y'know. Not that I mind." There was a contemplative silence.

"You mentioned something about a weakness they had," Roy said. "Unless that changed as well?"

"Oh. That." The other Ed's voice sounded rather strained. "In my world, you could immobilize a homunculus if you had a piece of – of the original person's body. That's what I was thinking of earlier. But judging by what Father said, these homunculi weren't made from human transmutation. I guess all we can do is wear down their Stones."

"I see," said Roy, rubbing his chin. "Well, I'm sure we can manage that. Gluttony wasn't too bad." The creature's gruesome last moments flickered in his memory briefly and faded – skin flaking off like dry paint, bone and muscle crumbling away in agony, leaving nothing but screams and ashes… only a spectacular death could lodge in his mind these days, he had to admit. He'd torched plenty in his time, and they'd all been forgotten, even to him – but he was a veteran, wasn't he? It was a natural fate.

He wondered how the boys were taking it. Al was enigmatic as he often could be when not speaking; his brother was chewing his lip, clearly perturbed; the other Ed, meanwhile, bore a stony expression rather at odds with what Roy was used to from that face of his. Really, he looked more like a veteran himself. Just what has that kid seen?

"Er, anyway," said Al, "we need to decide what to do next. I mean, we just found out some major information."

Ed yawned again. "Well, we definitely can't tell anyone. Bradley climbed into my hospital room just to threaten me, remember? He'd probably flip out if anyone else besides the colonel here knew our secrets."

"I think we should go look for Hohenheim," said the other Ed suddenly, making his counterpart flinch. "I'm sure he's related to this somehow, one way or another."

"We don't need his help," Ed muttered. "It's not like we'd ever find the old bastard anyway."

"Brother, that's mean," said Al reproachfully. "It's a good idea, even if you don't like him. Can't you just listen to your own advice?"

"Well, gee, when you put it like that… no!"

The conversation immediately descended into squabbling. Roy wisely retreated into his own thoughts, which, unfortunately, were no less disordered. A part of him was still in denial that any of this had happened – but no, he had just uncovered a government conspiracy, killed a homunculus, and launched a rebellion against his own leaders. The size of it all was dizzying to behold. And for what? A moral triumph? A few new bruises? An extra cup of coffee in the morning? For what?

He asked himself the question, but really, he reflected ruefully, the answer was all too plain: he'd done it for them. For these three blond brats, without an ounce of good sense between them. For the boys who had played God at ten and lived. For the idiots who had gone off on a standard mission and returned with a revelation that threatened to rip apart the very fabric of their reality. These people, it turned out, were worth risking his life for.

The sentiment was too mushy to entertain for more than a second. Roy moved on to more practical matters: it was all well and good to look out for his subordinates, but the situation now was dire. They were up against six near-invincible abominations, powers unknown, led by an enemy with the ability to shut off alchemy at will. Gluttony had gone down relatively easily in a closed environment, but he couldn't count on that luck again. And, more distressingly, he was a spare; they could kill him any time they wanted.

He needed a plan, evidently, but procrastination won out again. For the time being, he decided, he'd lay low and stay on Father's good side. Tomorrow, it was back to the daily grind.

"Colonel? Hey, Colonel!"

Roy blinked and returned to reality. "What?"

They were standing at a large intersection by the river. Ed pointed up at the street sign. "Your apartment's around here, right?"

"Hm. I suppose it is." Roy cleared his throat. "Well then, I'll be leaving you here. I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow morning… with that 12b report you owe me from last month, I'm sure you know the one –"

Ed groaned. "Oh, come on! You know, I'm actually very punctual – "

"No, we're not," the other Ed cut in.

"Yes, well," Roy continued loudly, "I'd like to see it done, Fullmetal – the sooner the better. Good night." A pause. "And good work, all of you."

He nodded to them brusquely, as was the norm, and strode off without a backward glance. No sentiment there, he congratulated himself. Absolutely none.

"I swear I can't understand a word that bastard says," Ed complained as the Elric brothers rounded the corner to their own dormitory. "I mean, that last part sounded almost nice. What's he playing at?"

"Maybe he's just being friendly?" Al suggested timidly.

"Very funny, Al, but I'm serious. Let me guess, he's planning a mission out to Aerugo or something and wants to soften us up before he hands us the notice…"

"Who cares?" The other Ed pushed open the door to their room. "Let's worry about all that tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I'm beat."

"Wait!" Al blurted out. "I just remembered – I have to tell you guys something!"

Ed squinted at him suspiciously, remembering an earlier incident. "Let me guess, it's got something to do with why you wouldn't go in Father's lair with us?"

"Yeah. Close the door." Al hesitated, weighing his words. "Basically, I was having a conversation with the other Al."

The room went silent. Ed gaped in shock; he turned to stare at the other Ed, who for his part seemed on the verge of collapse. Their breath hung in the air, frozen in place.

"S- so you're saying you finally connected with him? And he's alive?" the other Ed croaked at last.

"Uh-huh," Al replied. "Unhurt, too. Whatever you did, it worked."

The other Ed sank down onto the bed; Al and Ed pretended not to notice the distinct wetness in his eyes. Then, suddenly, he jumped up and punched the air. "Yes! We… we did it! I can't believe it, we finally got our bodies back! What'll Winry say…" Ed slapped him on the back companionably (and more than a little enviously), and was rewarded with, of all things, a hug. He had never seen his other self happier.

"Um, there's another thing," Al said quietly.

They stopped and looked back at him. "Huh?"

"The transmutation gave the other Al his body, but, uh... it was the body and soul of his old self."

"His old self – " the other Ed repeated, brow furrowing.

Al barreled on. "I wasn't supposed to tell you this – he thought it'd worry you, and I bet it will – but he's ten now. He's ten, and he doesn't remember anything after losing his body."

The silence this time was even longer, if that was possible. The other Ed sat back down heavily, face in shadow. Ed took a step back, expecting an outburst; Al looked like he was thinking the same. To come so close and yet lose so much… he tried to imagine what he would have done, had his own brother come back as the child of four years ago. Not anything pretty, that was for sure. It was an awful tragedy.

But the other Ed merely heaved a resigned sigh and flopped down on the bed. "Oh, well," he said. "I guess it did seem a bit too easy."

"'Oh, well'?" Ed repeated, stupefied. "Is that all you've got?"

The other Ed shrugged. "It is how it is. Even if he's not what he used to be, he's got his whole life ahead of him now. I – I can't fix everything."

"Hey, you can't just give up," persisted Ed. "I bet you can find a way to bring back the memories, at least. Al and I can help you. Hell, even if we have to go talk to Hohenheim, we'll figure it out."

"That's right," said Al cheerfully. "I'm sure there's a solution out there somewhere. We just have to use alchemy."

"Mm," the other Ed replied, but Ed could tell his heart wasn't in it. "I'll just have to sleep on it, I guess."

That night, Ed awoke briefly from bad dreams and saw, to his left, the other Ed lying board-flat on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He hadn't slept a wink.

Sunrise was almost upon Scar and Mei Chang when they finally happened upon the slum at the edge of the city. "Here we are," said Mei, her words almost drowned out by a gigantic yawn. The shantytown, little more than a hulking, foul-smelling gray shadow at this hour, was already buzzing with the activity of a thousand indigents. "I don't know why those military people were after you," she added, "but they'll never find you here."

Scar looked down at her. His expression couldn't exactly have been said to be overflowing with gratitude, but… close enough. "Why did you help me?" he asked suddenly.

Mei blinked, surprised at the question. "Well, you were bleeding out," she said, pointing to the still-ugly wound in his arm. "And, um, I couldn't just leave you like that, so I healed you…" She trailed off, realizing that this answer wasn't placating him. It wasn't a full answer, anyway; after all, she could have healed him and then left without a second thought. It would have been the smart decision, all things considered.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer. "Mr. Scar, I want to be the empress of Xing one day." There went her secret. No turning back now. "I can do it if I find what I came here to find, but that's not enough. I want to be a – a good empress. You know? Someone who deserves their trust." She looked back up at Scar, meeting his gaze. "If I can't even help people in need, I don't deserve anything."

"I see," he said. Something on his face changed then, but in the wan light Mei couldn't tell what. Their parting, in the end, was subdued.

"He's an odd one, isn't he, Xiao-Mei?" she commented as Scar's back retreated behind the throng of tents. "I probably shouldn't have told him about being the empress."

The panda squeaked disapprovingly. "All right, that's fair," replied Mei, "but those four people at the laboratory are our best lead right now, so it wasn't a total loss." She paused. "Actually, one of them looked familiar. I can't place it exactly…" Ah, never mind. Maybe she'd remember after a nap.

The sky was lightening. A new day was on the horizon; another day for her to win Clan Chang's ultimate prize. Despite her tiredness, she felt dread and excitement alike racing through her veins. I'd wish you the best, Mr. Scar, she thought, squinting out over the crowds, but I think I'll need all the luck for myself.

Far beneath Central, morning and night blended into a seamless, timeless daze – or so it seemed that way to the one they called Father. A day was nothing to him; a year, no more than a drop in the sea. He closed his eyes and saw infinity, the space and time of a thousand universes and more, laid out before him like the raiment of stars. The souls of every one of their people, uncountable masses writhing in the dark, were as near to him as the pipes beneath his feet. All his, all his, in the waning of a few moons.

Gluttony was destroyed, and the other world's Envy had betrayed him, but these developments were hardly perturbing. The former was of no more use to him; the latter had already given all the information Father required. His calculations were almost complete now. By the time of the eclipse, they would be finished.

Father settled back in his chair. The rupture of a few weeks ago had deposited three new arrivals into this realm. Envy and Edward Elric were accounted for – only Van Hohenheim remained. Odd, to think that Hohenheim's alternate self, of all people, had made it here. It had been a long time since Father had deigned to think of his old acquaintance, and he had been surprised to hear that three of the sacrifices had been his children. Even now, they were connected as they always had been.

But he had no more time to waste on pondering – no, not even he, immortal master of ages. The Promised Day drew near, and with it the moment of Truth.