Chapter Text
Ed got the request, looked at it, and asked himself ‘what the fuck did I do to get here?’
And, see, it was a request for medical help, which was practically his specialty. The Ishvalan civil war—more like a genocide really, and everyone knew it—needed a new doctor after theirs keeled over in the crossfire. He was being stationed in a town more southeast than others, where a certain interesting alchemist was stationed. The Flame Alchemist. Technically the youngest State Alchemist, which wasn’t counting Ed, who was made a State Alchemist without his knowledge the moment they had the authority to. The most crazy thing was how the stupid sins found him; he’s been off running around the ruins of his hometown for half a decade without telling anyone.
“Get up, Edward, Brother wants you for something and I think you’ll like it,” Lust had said, holding a small piece of paper out to him, folded in half and half-coated in sand. “You better accept. I didn’t come out here for nothing.”
Ed scoffed. “What, die of hyperthermia one too many times? In get up like that, you probably—“ He hesitated when he finished reading the letter. “This is a fucking military request.”
“It’s just—“
“Oh, I know. It only says to help anyone medically, not specifically soldiers. You knew you couldn’t get me out there without some sort of compromise. Sure, whatever. I’m not your weapon but I will play doctor.”
Lust had smirked at him, and then she turned away. Huh, strange, Gluttony hadn’t been there. Typically he followed her around like a lost dog. “Don't we all know that.”
Ed had huffed, barely letting a smile show. Closer to a dark grimace more than anything. Did he enjoy his proximity to the sins, or Homunculus for that matter? No. No, not at all. They were all suck-up assholes and this Brother alias they’re calling him rubbed Ed the wrong way. Evil twins aside, the sins themselves were annoying and awful and especially Pride. He may have shoved too many rainbows around the Bradley residence for Pride to be anything but bitter towards him, but still— He's known Pride the longest, and by far was he the most annoying in every which way. Greed was the only tolerable one and he would stick by that until the sun exploded and he was left to drift away in space.
The only reason he wasn’t dead by their hands was because he literally could never die, at all, ever. Constantly alive. And he would continue like that because he couldn’t ever die. That luxury was traded and he didn’t regret it to this day.
He still didn't! But, well…
Screams were never nice to listen to. Ed tried to make himself scarce, because in everyone else’s eyes he wasn’t at all permitted to do this. In his eyes? Fuck that. All the soldiers were just dandy, instead he decided to hole up in a yet to be decimated shelter, working with some other Amestrians that agreed with his statement of Fuck that. The Rockbells, the couple called themselves. They were good doctors.
Just a day after he got assigned, they moved, and now were in a pretty big Ishvalan city where both Roy and some asshole with a fucking Philosopher's Stone or two were working on opposite sides of the city to destroy it piece by motherfucking piece. It was horrific. Roy was fine, for the most part, but this Kimblee guy? Insane. To the point of committing war crimes, probably. He would have to get that guy jailed soon, when this was all over.
Then, Mr. Rockbell had come in through the door, Ms. Rockbell—or Yuriy and Sarah as they insisted—at his side and a few of the less injured Ishvalans helping carry a stretcher he had repurposed a few materials for. “Out of the way, new patient! Head injury, Ed, come here. It’s still fresh. You’re most equipped for this.”
Ed jogged over to where they had set the young man down, and Ed took in the patient's condition. Alchemical marks decorated an arm, a scar slightly bloody still above them, and an oddly shaped injury that has yet to be wrapped bleeding like hell. Huh, these people really relied on him, what with his military hat custom made by himself. That’s not a weird feeling at all. He was getting too close again, wasn’t he? Whatever, those weren’t matters that he was supposed to be concerning himself with right now.
All he had to do was hold a hand above where the injury was, let the alchemical energy flow, stitch the elements back together until nothing was left but trace amounts of blood and a large, X-shaped scar running across the guy's face. Ed couldn’t help but wonder to himself what the entire situation with this person was, with those marks that were clearly a mix of alchemy and alkahestry. He wasn't fond of his alkahestry being combined in such a way with the bastard's modern alchemy, but who gave a shit, really? They were both just branches of stuff that was used all the way back 500 years ago in his hometown, now being recombined in a way Ed has yet to decipher. Maybe he could ask the guy when he woke up…
Speaking of waking up, X-face—that was really insensitive, wow—seemed to be quickly regaining consciousness. Ed was almost proud of how quick his technique worked, but that was overshadowed by the off feeling he got when X-face opened his eyes and dazedly looked around.
“Something’s off, protect yourselves.” He told no one in particular, mostly just speaking to the whole room. Ed’s eyes specifically landed on both Sarah and Yuriy, for one reason or another.
X-face growled, staring at Ed with a certain… Rage. “Amestrian…” He said in Ishvallan. Ed could recognize it because he, too, could speak Ishvallan. When one lived so long, you had a certain amount of boredom that might cause one to go learn every language possible in a week before passing out of sleep deprivation. What an interesting time for him.
But instead of moving, X-face stared. “No, you are not Amestrian. You are far too golden to be Amestrian.”
“Noticed that, huh? Yeah, I’m exactly none percent Amestrian.” Ed responded in somewhat accented Ishvallan. Then again, he still held an accent that no one else had at this point in time. He refused to get rid of it, no matter what tongue he spoke in. “I’m your medic. There are two Amestrian doctors here and I need you to not hurt them, a lot of people are relying on them.”
His gaze turned, and finally, he seemed to spot Sarah and Yuriy. They were both on edge, but held a hopeful look in their eyes.
“Why must I? Amestrians have hurt us beyond repair.”
”Yeah, I get that. But you should hate the Amestrian government, not the citizens. The citizens are just people, just like you or whoever else. The average person is always going to be just that, a person. Remember that.”
”I do not trust these people. What makes it so that they won't turn their backs on us at any moment? You aren’t of Ishvala. You wouldn’t understand.”
Ed sighed. “No. I’m not of Ishvala. But I am of Truth. I’ve vowed to never tell lies, and it's not a lie when I say that you can trust everyone here. Most are your people, and there are some that can't be fixed with alkahestry alone. But if you need to let out rage, kill me. I’ve been in this country for…” So long. Too long. “Long enough that I could have stopped this massacre. If you need to blame anyone, blame me.”
He stood, standing above X-face with a somewhat grim smile. It was true. He could have stopped this war, if he tried. He could single-handedly fight back the Amestrian government, but if he did that? The truce with Homunculus would be broken, and that's an essential part to his plan. The circle must be completed to then be destroyed.
X-face was angry, Ed could see that. He could see it in his face, in his eyes, in the way he slowly rose from the stretcher and started to tower over Ed. He huffed, and decided: ‘I’m immortal and this guy looks like he needs to kill someone. Why not me?’
Switching back to Amestrian, Ed started his introduction. His formal, government introduction. “I am Lieutenant General Edward Hohenheim, the Athanasia State Alchemist, an enigma amongst the government. If you need to blame someone, blame me.”
“Edward, what are you doing?—“ Asked Sarah in a panic, but before she could finish, X-face raised his alchemy marked arm to Ed’s face and there was a spark of energy and pain.
Just because he couldn’t die didn’t mean he couldn’t feel.
It was an odd feeling, having your insides deconstructed so messily and… Wow, okay that was really uncomfortable, actually. And painful. Ed fell to his knees. “Fuck, shit—“ He spoke, though no one could understand what language he spoke in. He couldn’t breathe because his lungs were in pieces, his entire body was in pieces and that was super fucking weird! Being deconstructed, a first time for everything.
He thought he could hear several screams, but his brain also happened to be in pieces, so it was anyone’s guess. Ed blacked out for no longer than a few seconds and awoke to— Guess what, even more screams! He took his metal limbs and pushed himself up with them. It was hard, while his insides were still rearranging themselves and skin was still being stitched back together molecule by molecule. Damn, this would probably leave a nasty scar, wouldn’t it? Oh well. People couldn’t see scars on internal organs anyway. Ed spat out some blood, far more than was healthy, but it was already constantly running down his chin and bubbling from his throat anyway. The stain on his teeth would be a nightmare.
For the first time, Ed smiled. He was told he was kind of scary whenever he smiled, but well… He did have whole ass fangs. “Do it again if—If you need to. I can go all day.”
“I just deconstructed your body. How are you alive?”
Ed laughed. With all the blood, well, it didn’t sound that great. “I can't die. Believe me, I’ve tried. But this was a first! Say, could you do that again? It was an interesting feeling, I want to see if I can reverse engineer what you just did and figure out what those marks on your arm do… Alkahestry, mixed with alchemy. Two things from the same branch, derived, and then combined again. Is it the same as the alchemy from Xerxes? I wonder what the creation aspect could be like! In Xerxes, the architecture was made mostly through alchemy, and we could do grand things with it—Make limbs, you know? Earliest version of automail, and I created my own limbs from modernized alchemy, I wonder if I could create limbs with this new stuff that doesn’t have the same pain factor as automail does! That would be revolutionary! Whoever made this must have been smart. And—“ From there, he started rambling on in Xerxesian, using the shocked state of the man in front of him to get a better look at the arm.
It truly was curious, and a wonderful alternative to automail. Someone else’s arm, attached to someone else, not needing maintenance because it was completely human. And the marks were something this person must have spent years on, and with the way that it looked, it was probably meant to be a weapon against war. Then again, there was probably another arm with tattoos for creation. This seemed mostly like destruction. If one wanted to create and destroy, they would need both arms. Unfortunately he was still above desecrating a body in the name of science.
“Stop.” Said X-face, and Ed finally realised that he had started to scribble down notes in his notebook he constantly carried around and had more than 2 pages written on this subject.
Ed looked around. “How long have I been here?”
“…You’ve been doing that for 15 minutes and wouldn’t respond to anyone.” Remarked Yuriy. “It would be impressive if I wasn't still horrified by what just happened.”
“15 minutes?! Shit! The military is going to be looking for me! You people need to make your way to the ruins of Xerxes, it's the current safest place outside of Amestris. Go south first, that's the quickest way out of the city, and then head to the desert. Try to go at night and watch for snipers, the city is littered with them. Rockbells, don't die, and try to keep everyone safe! Okay I have to go, bye!”
Ed ran off, leaving a room full of traumatized war victims standing in shock.
“You know that kid?” Asked X-face—Ed forgot to get his name, didn't he?—to Sarah.
Sarah shook her head. “No, not really, he kind of just showed up and said he was a medic that, and I quote, ‘doesn’t give a shit about the government conspiracies and will do anything to spite the bastard underground.’”
…
“Huh.”
~~~
Roy stared. “Hello, Edward. You have some… Blood. Everywhere.”
“Huh? Oh, shit, forgot to fix that.”
In about one second, there was a spark of alchemical energy, and then this kid looked like he was the cleanest person alive. Roy was immediately intrigued, since nothing had even happened to cause an alchemical reaction. It was possible that there were circles carved into his automail, but with how much of it was shown and with it being completely pristine, he doubted it. So, that begged the question, how did he do it? Roy was almost curious enough to ask. Unfortunately, Ed was still too much of a stranger for that.
“By the way, Roy,” Edward started, taking to walking side by side with him. “D’ya think you could supervise me while I work on my automail? I need to check for repairs and it’s difficult to do that solely with alchemy. And I’ve had so many accidents involving immobilization for the entire week that I don't want to risk it…”
Roy was left to wonder, ‘what happened to being too much of a stranger?’ “Only if you tell me what that trick was with your clothes.”
Ed shifted, and he seemed to light up. “Sure! It was an array I worked on a… little while ago that separates elements from other elements, designed specifically for getting things off of your clothes. Like mud, water, blood, orange juice, and especially milk.” He seemed to say that with such hatred that Roy would have been given whiplash if he didn't spend so much time with Maes. Still, it was surprising. “It works wonders—Here, take a look at my notes.”
Suddenly, he was carrying a book. One that looked extremely old, well used, and which pages were stained and yellowed with what sometimes looked like blood and what sometimes looked like water. This book looked old. Like, old old. It even used an older book binding technique that hasn’t been relevant in about 200 years. Where did a kid like this get a book like that? Actually, this seemed perfectly in place for someone like Edward, never mind.
After flipping through a few pages, Ed shoved a certain page into Roy’s face. He took the book, slowly so it didn’t get damaged, and stared down at what he could only assume were words and a large, half-formed array that took up half of the first page he looked at. The writing itself was completely unrecognizable, and sometimes it had Drachman characters, and sometimes Xingese, and words that were in Amestrian but couldn’t even begin to be pieced together because everything was so out of context and some words were in characters he didn't even recognize. Actually, that was what most of it was in, some unknown language with words similar to Amestrian but also so different that it looked like both Xingese and Drachman mixed together. Roy had no idea what any of this meant.
“I can't read this.” He simply stated, in a tone that he hoped wasn't too impolite.
Ed’s eyes widened, and then he chuckled nervously before taking the book back. “It’s a mix of every language I know, and coded twice on top of that, so I would hope so. I forgot about that. Did the array at least make sense?” He asked, and again Roy was left stunned. How paranoid was this kid?
Nonetheless, though. “The array was interesting. It looked like… Improv alchemy, I guess, where you would fill it in depending on what elements were involved. It seems rather time consuming to figure that out, though, right?”
“Once you get the hang of it it’s not too hard.”
“So, you made that array? How long did it take?” Making arrays wasn’t exactly easy, by any means. It took his teacher all that time and a life dedication to make arrays for flame alchemy so Roy thought he would know.
Ed shrugged. “Eh, about 30 minutes, give or take. My coat got drenched so I was in a little bit of a hurry.”
Well that wasn’t what he expected. “I’m sorry, did you say 30 minutes?”
“Yea.” Ed said casually, like this wasn’t unbelievable at all. “Anyway you said you’d sit in while I worked on my automail?”
Roy spent a few seconds to stare incredulously down at the kid who just said he’d made an entire new array in less than a year. The array itself was also actually pretty complicated, so excuse him for being so stunned, but 30 minutes? Unbelievable. Still, with the way the kid was looking at him, Roy decided it was best to treat him like a superior officer right now so he could focus on processing what he’s just been told.
“…Of course.”
“I’ve noticed you get kinda formal when you have anything on your mind, why is that? Military shit? I wouldn’t know, never went to academy. Or anything military related besides war, really.”
Well that gave him more to think on about this kid than he wanted to. “Aren’t you, like, 12?”
“I was 15 for your information! 15 years old! I swear if this has anything to do with my height I’m gunna court-martial you and the firing squad will have a payday! It’s not my fault I got stuck at 4’11, blame that bastard Truth! Fucking asshole, Truth is.”
Despite the fact he just got death threats, Roy found himself holding back a smile. There was something about this kid. He also decided that he would put a pin in the fact that he had said was and not am. That made him curious; didn’t saying that mean the kid was older than 15? Roy had a hard time believing that.
“So how old are you? If you don’t mind me asking,” He asked.
Ed immediately calmed down, crossing his automail arms with rather loud creaks of metal. He had somewhat of a grim smile on his face, darkened with something Roy wasn’t familiar with. “I’m older than I look.”
“Vague…” He muttered, and Edward huffed out a laugh.
“My specialty. C’mere, I set up my own tent over this way.”
Roy supposed that made sense. The kid hadn’t really been seen in the temporary dorms or whatever their living situation was currently, so it was probable that Edward was staying elsewhere. Roy hasn’t seen his proficiency in anything other than his strange healing alchemy, so it was also possible that he was skilled in earth alchemy or anything else as well, enough to make his own living quarters. Still, even with their few days at this point of contact, Roy knew next to nothing about their strange Lieutenant General.
He, somehow, was still surprised when Ed led him to somewhere that was very much not a tent. Instead, it looked like an entire house. Small, old-looking, but a house nonetheless. It looked like it was created using alchemy, but with no alchemical marks, it was hard to tell. The only reason he had that impression was because this house looked like nothing you would find in Ishval, even if made from the same materials, but instead more like something one would find in some kind of historical venue. Edward definitely had some… Strange tastes. Nonetheless Roy entered the door behind him.
What he saw? It looked like automail haven. There were various arms, legs, and what have you scattered around the walls, along with papers pinned up that had various alchemical theories and arrays that either weren’t complete or an active hazard. Unfortunately, it was in one of the languages he didn’t understand, though this time it looked like just that language and didn’t seem coded. The automail varied piece to piece, but from what Roy saw, they were all far different from Edward’s current set. Some were heavily decorated with metal spikes, others were black, others were grey, and some were painted with fire and some were purple, for whatever reason. Purple didn’t exactly seem like Ed’s colour, but this kid was an enigma, so Roy didn’t get a say in what was going on here.
That wasn’t even the most stunning part, though. Right in the middle of the wall was a single, giant automail wing. Just one, and some of the feathers were missing, and some wiring didn’t seem fixed, but still. It was a giant fucking wing. What the hell did Roy just walk into? “Is that a… an automail wing?” He asked, just because it was so absurd that he had to make sure. Like, what if it was wall art? It could be wall art.
“Yup.”
Well there goes the wall art theory.
“It’s not done yet, but I’ve been working on it for years. It’s made with the stuff northerner’s automail is made out of, only I made it slightly lighter. Still strong as ever, though! Average person couldn’t even dent anything in this room. The second wing is somewhere else right now, but that one’s done. I’m not hoping for flight or anything, but they would look fucking awesome. Right?”
Of course they would. This one alone looked almost 10 feet long, maybe seven or eight. Giant wings would definitely look awesome, he wasn’t going to deny that.
Ed went and took it off the wall with minimal effort. “Here, hold it. It’s light.”
Roy took it. It was huge, and definitely felt like a giant heap of metal, but… It really was surprisingly light. “How would you even wear something like this?” He asked.
“Wanna see?”
That wasn’t slightly terrifying at all. “Sure.” He said anyway, because morbid curiosity would be his doom.
In a second, the short-sleeve shirt that Ed had been wearing was off, and Roy was staring at two more, unused automail ports directly in the kids upper back. “I had an idea, and I wanted to see if it was possible, and look at that. Takes a shit ton of practice to get used to two extra limbs from your back, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t useful to have an extra set of arms when you’re alone. Or at any time. Actually, I have a set specifically for this, and maintenance would be far easier with them… Could’ya help me put ‘em on?”
Roy handed back the wing, and Ed put it back on the wall while he responded. “I don’t have any automail experience, I’m not exactly the person you should ask.” He didn’t mention the way his hands had started shaking recently, whenever he held them together. Especially whenever he was about to snap.
“Eh, can’t be worse than when I do it!”
He couldn’t even imagine having to put automail on your back alone. That sounded… Impossible, actually, how does he manage it? How is this kid even still alive? Lost all his limbs, his own automail mechanic, two ports in his back. Okay, Edward was insane. Roy was declaring it. He had to tell Maes about this and maybe even show him, if Ed allowed it. Mystery aside, it was horribly fascinating. And he hasn’t even started on anything alchemy in this room because he couldn’t read it. Maybe he could get Ed to translate.
Roy sighed, equal parts fear and exasperation. “Fine. Just tell me what to do.”
Edward handed him a single arm while setting the other on a table that was already filled with parts and papers. The limb itself had a very interesting design, and Roy could almost say it looked like a leg from a bug with how slim it was. It was also the same shade as Ed’s current automail and had fingers that were just long enough to be considered freaky. Also, it rolled around from where the port was like it was on some kind ball joint. Actually the elbow did too. It looked very mobile, and also surprisingly light. Roy couldn’t help but wonder how much Ed would weigh when wearing all his automail he could.
“Alright, so you’re gunna want a wrench—“ Edward handed him said wrench, and he took it. “—and then you’re gunna want to put it on at a slight angle and twist until you hear a click. Don’t use the wrench yet.”
Roy did as he was told. It was a little awkward, but Ed didn’t seem to mind, so he focused on his task anyway. It was a good distraction from the flames and the gunshots he could still hear outside.
“There’s some latches, flip those in place.” He did. “And now take the wrench and there should be a bolt lookin’ thing on the top that you’re gunna twist to attach the nerves. Warn me, or like, do a countdown or whatever. Hurts like a bitch.”
The latches were easy to find, so he moved them until they seemed firmly in place. “Alright, attaching the nerves now.” Right when the bolt was twisted, Edward tensed and hissed with pain. “Are you alright?” He couldn’t help but ask.
Ed gave a thumbs up. “Yeah, lemme see if it’s working. Back up a bit, this thing has a pretty far reach.”
Roy watched Ed experiment with the limb, and was surprised to see that it moved like any other arm, if said arm could roll around on each joint, but still. “How much practice did it take to get used to that?”
Edward laughed. “So fucking much you wouldn’t even live to see the day I could do it again.”
…He hoped that was an exaggeration.
They moved onto the next one, and results were much the same. And then this menace of a human person had four limbs, and Roy wondered if he should regret his decision to help create such a monstrosity. It was unnatural, seeing someone with so much metal on them, and as he looked— For the first time, Roy caught his open-mouthed smile. It, too, was unnerving. “Do you have fangs?”
“Yup!”
“I need to stop expecting you to be normal.”
“You really should.”
“Noted.”
Edward rummaged around his messy one room house until a small pile of tools were collected, and he transmuted a chair from some scrap wood that he had lying around for some reason or another. Though that wasn’t what caught Roy’s eye, no, it was the fact that there was no possible way he could’ve done a transmutation. It had happened earlier, too, but he assumed that there was a hidden one somewhere on his person. Now? He could tell, there really wasn’t anything. Ed had just grabbed the scrap wood with his back hands and it just turned into a chair. Okay.
“How… Did you make that?” Roy asked. He was getting tired of asking questions, usually he was the one getting questions asked. Unfortunately the kid he was now stuck in a room with for an indefinite amount of time raised questions no matter what angle you looked at.
Ed didn’t even look at him. “Alchemy.”
Well, he knew that. “Okay, but how? I saw no array. It shouldn’t be possible.”
He took a screwdriver, lay his left arm out on a cluttered table and cleared it, knocking several things off in the process. One of the back arms started working on unscrewing some plating, the other off to the side near some tools, ready to hand any to his right hand if needed. It seemed efficient, effective. This guy would be wonderful to have working actively on any part of the military.
“Side effects of my religion, really. Fucking hate God, by the way, do not recommend worshipping It. It’s a nightmare and a half.”
No answer has been what he’s expected so far, and he thought he was growing numb to it. Roy sighed. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you’ve also punched this God in the face…” He grumbled.
Ed laughed, horrifyingly, and said a simple word that Roy never wanted to hear again. “Yup.” And then he continued. “I was playing poker against It and It won, so I punched It to take the win. I won absolutely nothing except the satisfaction of seeing God upset.”
“Can I sit down anywhere?” Roy asked, because he couldn’t stand this shit anymore.