Chapter Text
Dawn breaks through the dark sky, bathing the great Xerxesian city of Xanthosis in golden light. A silent city slowly awakens as the day begins.
A beam of light shines through an open window, hitting a small glass flask nestled in colorful silk. In the center of the glass, a black wispy orb absorbs the golden ray, swirling like shifting sand. A single maroon eye opens from nothing, observing the rising sun with delight. A small hum sounds from it as it spins in its glass, away from the light, turning its focus towards the only other person in the room.
On a bed in the corner, a man lies on his back, sleeping soundly beneath a couple of thin blankets as he releases a small snore. The dark mass grins and shifts to the side within its flask, allowing the ray of light to continue its journey and land on the man’s face. The man groans and glares at the light before scratching his beard and rolling over, turning his back to the window.
“Van Hohenheim! It’s time to wake up!” the dark mass calls out.
“Five more minutes Homunculus,” grumbles Van Hohenheim.
Homunculus’ smokey core bristles as he returns to blocking the ray of light. “Van Hohenheim up! We have very important business to prepare for today.”
“What business? Master gave me the day off,” Van Hohenheim gripes back, voice laden with sleep.
“He gave you the day off because today is the day. The day of the King’s ritual,” Homunculus says grandly.
This gets Van Hohenheim’s attention, and he sits up. “Are you finally allowed to tell me what you have been working on?” he asks excitedly, all traces of sleep now gone from his voice.
“Indeed,” Homunculus says with a smile. Van Hohenheim has known for years that Homunculus and Zosimos, the head alchemist, have been working on a huge transmutation for the King, but he was never privy to the truth of the matter. “Now up, up! I managed to convince Zosimos to let you watch.”
Van Hohenheim’s face lights up as he hops out of bed and begins dressing for the day, all the while peppering Homunculus with questions. Homunculus evades answering them, assuring him that he’ll learn the truth later tonight.
As Van Hohenheim finishes pulling his long gold hair back into a high ponytail, someone knocks at their door. Van Hohenheim scoops up Homunculus’ flask and the duo answer the door.
“Greetings Hohenheim,” a bald older man with tight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes says. His arms swing forward, and the sleeves of his rich purple robes sway lightly as he holds his hands out. “I’m here for the Dwarf.”
Van Hohenheim keeps his expression pleasant but Homunculus can see how his hands tighten ever so slightly around his flask. The action makes him feel smug. “Zosimos, you promised Van Hohenheim could watch.”
“Er, well.”
Is he backing out on his promise? He can’t have that happen. “I need Van Hohenheim to hold me while I ensure everyone is in the right place,” Homunculus says as he smoothly interrupts the now flustered man.
“Very well.” Zosimos looks annoyed while Van Hohenheim beams at Homunculus. “Hohenheim, you are to follow me and not ask any questions,” Zosimos says sharply before turning and striding away, not waiting for a response.
“Yes Master,” Van Hohenheim says as he falls into step behind Zosimos. Van Hohenheim glances down at Homunculus, an eyebrow raised as he silently asks, will you tell me later?
Homunculus manifests a wispy arm as he makes a gesture of agreement. He nods in satisfaction as he turns back to look ahead.
They spend the day following Zosimos around as he and the other palace alchemists set up the ritual site. Homunculus ensures they map out the ‘correct’ coordinates. Multiple times someone tries to take him from Van Hohenheim, and each time he makes up an excuse to stay in his arms. There’s a chance that if he ends up separated from Van Hohenheim, they’ll kick him out of the throne room. Then he will end up becoming a part of the dead. The thought of that happening sends a dark twisting feeling through him. That is unacceptable. He needs Van’s blood to open the gate after all.
Van Hohenheim should have as much of a right as the other alchemists to be in the room with them; in fact, he has more of a right. His alchemical skill far outweighs all other alchemists in the country. Xerxes’ foolish emphasis on birthright does nothing for the nation, only impeding their progress in advancing as a civilization. But that doesn’t matter now, Xerxes will be no more after tonight.
Very soon he’s going to have a body! He’s going to be free of this wretched glass prison, and finally, experience everything this world offers to its fullest. He’ll be able to walk, touch, and learn whatever he wants. Absolute freedom. And he won’t experience it alone, he’ll have an eternal companion, his blood-kin to experience it all with. A companion that he will raise up to be better than humans, but not completely equal to himself. It’s no fun gloating to no one after all.
Eventually, it’s time to retrieve the King, who lately has been spending more and more time in his bed. The duo separates for the first time that day as Homunculus presents himself to the King. The lies he sings to the King of his future immortality send a thrill through his core.
Van Hohenheim stands dutifully outside of the King’s chamber, his eyes going to Homunculus first then Zosimos second when they reemerge. He can’t help but crack the tiniest sliver of a smile at the action.
Van Hohenheim retrieves him and steps back as the King and the rest of his entourage head to the throne room. Hanging back, he whispers, “Homunculus, you said you would tell me everything tonight.”
“Worry not Van Hohenheim, I haven’t forgotten about you. I’ll tell you in a moment,” Homunculus says as they enter the throne room. Van Hohenheim heads towards one of the side walls. “Van go stand in front of the throne.” Van Hohenheim looks at him quizzically but compiles. He stops short of the actual center. “Move a little to your left.”
“Um alright. Do you want a better view?” Van Hohenheim asks as he steps to the side and lifts him higher to chest level.
“Sure, let’s go with that.” Homunculus grins. It’s almost time! In front of them, a few alchemists wave incense as they recite some dumb prayer. “Now, I promised you the truth. Tonight the King is going to gain immortality.”
“Incredible, the King is going to be immortal?” Van Hohenheim says in awe. He glances to the wall behind them that holds the mural of the transmutation circle. “Is that the circle for immortality?”
Homunculus suppresses a giggle, a tiny grin sneaks across his face, that and a little bit more. He can see him analyzing the symbols. He’s not too concerned that Van Hohenheim could figure out what each symbol actually represents, but just to be sure... “Van look, it’s starting.”
At the center of the room, the King crouches and unsheathes a gold dagger covered in intricate engravings and jewels. His thin gnarled hands shake as he slices into the pad of his pointer finger. Blood wells from the wound as he raises his hand above the golden basin at his feet.
“This is the dawn of a new age,” Van Hohenheim says.
Homunculus’ smile grows impossibly wide. “Yes, this is an amazing moment indeed.”
The King’s blood drips into the basin.
For a moment, all is quiet. Then a thick tension and an air of unnatural energy permeates the room, as the ground trembles. Black shadowy hands rise high into the air, twisting around the humans as they gasp in terror.
“Oh, this is immortality?” the King says in frightful awe. Beside him, Zosimos chokes, clutching at his throat as he wheezes. Everyone in the room begins to choke. “What’s wrong—ack!” the King coughs, spit foams from his mouth as he spins towards Homunculus. “You said it wouldn’t do anything to us…”
He and the other alchemists collapse. Van Hohenheim cries out behind him. “What’s happening?! Homunculus! What’s going on?!” Van Hohenheim shakes his flask, terror seeping into his voice. Upon seeing Homunculus’ grin, he freezes. “What have you done?!”
“You are standing in the true center of the transmutation circle, and I’m going to use our shared blood to open the gate.” Homunculus swirls, giving Van Hohenheim a wide smile, his single eye curves into an expression of unbridled glee as he outstretches his wispy hands wide. Van Hohenheim stares back in horror. “Right now, you and I are at the center of everything. My blood kin, Van Hohenheim!”
The Eye of God opens beneath them, and they fall into Truth’s realm.
Pure white burns into them, knowledge sinking its claws into their minds, filling every crevasse. Homunculus laughs while tearing their forms asunder, causing Van Hohenheim to scream.
This is the moment of Truth.
Now to make his body with Van Hohenheim as the base, of course; they are of the same blood, so it is only fitting. And it is just as fitting to split the souls of Xerxes equally between them. The souls writhe as Homunculus allots them, weaving them into their new bodies.
Bone crackles into existence. Flesh and blood entwine around bones and muscles, forming a tall, strong body, with broad shoulders and long golden hair. His body, just like Van’s, he thinks, as one large hand reaches out, his new hand. Giddy with excitement, Homunculus reaches a wispy shadow hand forth, grasping his new form—
CRASH
A heavy door slams open. Something grabs him, yanking him back.
“WHAT!” He jerks back, looking behind.
A swarm of thin black hands snake around his form, shooting back towards a tall smooth stone gate that wasn’t there earlier. From within the open gate, The Eye of God stares, peering into his very being.
“No!” Homunculus frantically throws himself forward, instinctively moving despite having never moved before, but the hands reel him back to the looming gate.
His body deconstructs, disintegrating as the particles drift up, disappearing into the void. Where his new body once stood now floats a featureless white shadow figure shaped like him, with a wide toothy grin.
“Not yet Little Homunculus.”
“No, no, no, no, no!”
Mocking laughter echoes as he’s pulled through the gate.
(o)
Homunculus comes to with disorientated, fraying thoughts. He can’t sleep, and yet it feels like he has awoken, much like the day he came into existence. A soft beam of early morning light gently drapes across his flask.
His flask? He’s still in the flask!
Homunculus gasps, twirling around wildly. Glass walls, vapor form. One of Van Hohenheim’s arms curls protectively around his glass prison. Why didn’t it work?
Homunculus analyzes his memories of last night. Visions of the white void, his body deconstructing, a blank stone gate, the Eye of God peering at him, a wide grin with echoing laughter flash through his mind.
Homunculus seethes, feeling as if his vapor form was going to turn into steam from his fury. He had it! His body was right there, within his grasp! But that Thing stopped him! Was that the Truth? Then why would it stop him? He did nothing wrong, so why did it stop him from finally being free?!
“Damn it! Argh!” Homunculus forms wispy hands, clawing at the glass walls surrounding him. The glass remains unmarked, his incorporeal form incapable of physical action. He thrashes in rage for a long time. The morning sun burns to mid-day by the time he calms down.
He huffs. If he had a body, he would be out of breath from his actions. The thought almost reignites his anger but he smothers the emotion. He needs to think, figure out where to go from here. He needs- Van!
“Van!” Homunculus yells, turning towards him. Alarm surges through him when he doesn’t respond. Did the Truth stop Van Hohenheim from getting his new body too? He checks his chest, watching for signs of life. Van Hohenheim’s chest expands as he breathes. A distant part of him wonders why he feels so relieved upon seeing him alive, but that’s not important. What is important is figuring out if he is immortal. “Van! Van Hohenheim, wake up!”
Van Hohenheim stirs. He groans, his eyes growing tense before opening. “What?” He looks down at Homunculus in confusion. “Homunculus? What happened? Why are-?” he gasps, jolting upright. The blood drains from his face as his eyes snap to the center of the room where the King and his court lay dead.
Van Hohenheim lets out a strangled cry as he scrambles to his feet, running to the bodies. He slides into a crouch before Zosimos, shaking him before checking his pulse.
“He’s dead,” he whispers in horror before checking the King, and then the bodies of the other men. “They’re all dead.”
Homunculus says nothing as Van Hohenheim stumbles back from the corpses, back towards where he woke up earlier. He falls to his knees and holds up Homunculus’ flask, glowering at him. “Homunculus what did you do?!”
“Me? Those imbeciles did this!” This is bad. Van Hohenheim is mad and he’s the only person alive in Xerxes. He needs him on his side.
Van Hohenheim taps his flask hard. “Then what was that talk about the true center and using my blood for a gate?”
Homunculus scoffs, “I wasn’t about to let some selfish king become immortal, so I made sure we were in a safe area.”
“What do you mean, safe area?”
“We’re alive, they’re dead,” he says as he flicks his thin arms in a sharp gesture around them. “Safe area.”
Van Hohenheim sinks back, his face going blank as if he doesn’t even want to even consider the implications. “How far was the reach outside of the safe area?”
Homunculus disperses his mouth, not wanting to grimace in front of him. Van Hohenheim whips his head to the mural behind the throne. His eyes go wide with horror. “The irrigation canal,” he whispers. “It- it encompassed all of Xerxes.”
Van Hohenheim trembles violent shudders that make Homunculus worry he’ll drop him. “Van, remain calm—”
“Calm? You want me to be calm?!” He glares as he whips his arm towards the corpses and to the city beyond the sandstone arches of the throne room. “Everyone is dead! Our entire kingdom is gone! And while we are talking about this, why was there a safe area? You told me the King was going to become immortal!”
“Ehhh you see, when I said safe area, what I really meant was that we were in the center of the circle to become immortal.”
Van Hohenheim freezes. “I—what?”
“You’re immortal now. Isn’t that great?” Homunculus smiles. Now Van Hohenheim will calm down and stop yelling at him.
“You—you made me immortal.” Van Hohenheim’s entire form deflates as he lets out a wheeze. Homunculus’ smile slips. That is not the face he should be making. Van should be happy! Why is he hyperventilating? “You killed everyone in the country to make me immortal.”
“I didn’t kill everyone. The King was the one who ordered it. I merely told him what to do. I simply took advantage. And it was to make us immortal.” Now with the facts straight, Van will surely understand, Homunculus tells himself, shoving a strange, doubtful feeling aside.
Van Hohenheim stares with impossibly wide watery eyes, full of sheer disbelief. He goes deathly still, muscles coiled tight in his arms. Then he trembles, his expression morphs as his eyes narrow into sharp dangerous slits. His face rapidly turns red as his golden eyes burn molten, any grief or despair evaporates in the absolute rage that sears into Homunculus as he raises his arms high.
Homunculus can’t help his gasp, the whimper that escapes him. Because despite the fact he told Van Hohenheim that he made them immortal, he’s still in the flask, and there’s a chance he will die if Van drops him.
Van Hohenheim stops. Homunculus stares down at the top of his bowed head, eyeing the height in horror from the floor. “I-I thought you would be grateful!” he stammers.
“Grateful? Grateful?!” Van Hohenheim gives a shrill, maniacal laugh from below. It shakes his entire body as his hold on his flask trembles. “Where in the world did you get that idea?!”
“I—” Homunculus flounders. Why isn’t he happy? “Because immortality is the ultimate gift!”
Van Hohenheim whips his arms down, abruptly cutting off Homunculus’ shriek as his hands hit the floor. The blow is cushioned, and Homunculus bounces up out of his hands, clinking against the stone ground. He then rolls to the side, only to be stopped by the pipe of his flask.
Van Hohenheim’s palms press hard into the ground as he snaps. “No, it's not! Especially not in exchange for our entire country! By the Red King’s Golden Crown, were you even thinking?!”
“I was thinking they deserved it!” He whirls towards him as he clenches tiny smoky fists. “This kingdom has done nothing for us. You, enslaved by your fellow man, scorned, beaten, mocked for daring to reach for a greater purpose. I, treated as nothing more than a fancy talking book. An experiment! I’m not even human! Not even equal to a slave!”
Homunculus swirls furiously in his flask, his single eye nearly a slit as he seethes. How dare Van Hohenheim be angry with him? Couldn’t he see what he did for him? “You and I are the only ones who ever cared about each other!”
“And that gave you the right to decide the fate of our people? Because they never knew you, never cared about you?”
“They’re humans! There are plenty of other countries full of them!”
The sheer vitriol in Van Hohenheim’s expression halts any further defensive words. He’s never seen that expression on Van’s face and he doesn’t like it. And it’s directed at him.
Van Hohenheim flounders before words finally choke out of his throat, “I can’t believe you! Do you hear yourself? Do you understand the magnitude of what you’ve done? How horrible, how abhorrent, how monstrous, how-how!” Van Hohenheim grabs his head and wails, it’s a deep scream of rage and despair.
Homunculus gapes at him. This is wrong. Today wasn’t supposed to go this way. Van is supposed to be happy, he’s supposed to have his own body. The two of them were going to take on the world together. Van isn’t supposed to be sitting in a crumpled heap of anguish as sobs choke free from his throat.
“Van, it will…” Be alright? Everything went wrong! He needs to... to make Van stop crying so he can help him get a body. Maybe if he shows him what opportunities are now available, he will cease his wailing. Van’s always been an optimistic man, and with a future free of time itself, there are plenty of opportunities for them.
“Van Hohenheim fret not! Look at the possibilities laid out before you. We can learn so much from the world together. We can... rule a country or, or be like gods. You wanted, uh, wanted a family, right? Now you can have all the families you want!”
Van Hohenheim stops crying. Red-rimmed eyes bore into him, his expression blank. Homunculus almost sighs in relief. With the problem solved, they can—
Van Hohenheim slams his palms against the ground. A loud smack echoes through the room full of bodies. His hands land dangerously close to his flask as his face contorts into an expression of pure rage. “How dare you! How dare you tell me to be happy with this atrocity! Why shouldn’t I smash your flask for what you’ve done?!”
A staggering emotion lurches through Homunculus, something biting and petrifying. His mind goes blank for a single moment as his wispy silk-like form shrinks. Is this fear he’s feeling from Van Hohenheim?
That can’t be possible. Van Hohenheim has never threatened him before. Van Hohenheim is the only one who speaks to him as an equal, the only one who deserves this gift! But he’s also the only other living person in the city, there would be no one to stop him, save him from Van Hohenheim’s rage.
“Because, because you need me!” He eyes Van’s hand as he slinks back against the wall of his flask. “You need me if you want any chance of undoing this!”
“Do you?” Van Hohenheim leans forward, his nose almost touching his flask. “Do you know how to fix this?”
Homunculus falls silent. He never considered reversing this, and the chance to do so easily has long passed. “I can. It might take some time. I’ll need to do some research,” he says hesitantly.
Van Hohenheim stares at him with a look of disbelief as he throws his arms up in exasperation before standing.
“Then start researching,” he snarls before storming off, weaving past the still bodies, and disappearing through the sandstone arches of the throne room.
“V-Van Hohenheim?” Homunculus’ voice shakes. There’s no response. “Hey, Van Hohenheim, come back!” He hears Van Hohenheim’s furious stomps taper off until he’s left in silence. “Don’t leave me, Van.”