Face Off
The eight-year-old boy watched with anticipation outside the window, trying to catch any familiar headlights in the darkness of the night. He could hear his mother talking to the servants of the mansion, giving them instructions where to put the silverware and the plates. If anything, she wanted to make the particular night a special occasion for the visitors she was expecting.
Little Selim, however, didn’t really care about such formalities. As long as his father came, he was happy.
Just then, another pair of headlights appeared in the distance. Selim sat up, watching with bated breath the direction that the car took. When he saw it heading towards the mansion, he could hardly contain his excitement anymore.
“Mom! Mom! Father is back!” the young boy cried and he immediately rushed to the main door.
“Selim, don’t run in the house!” his mother chided mildly, but Selim hardly paid attention. By the time Selim reached the foyer, his father was already entering, hading his coat over to the butler.
“Father! Welcome back!” Selim said, hurrying to King Bradley. Though the man wasn’t his real father, it didn’t mean that he didn’t love him as one.
The Führer directed his gaze to Selim, and his lips tugged to his familiar smile. “Hello, son. Are you happy to see me?”
Selim nodded emphatically, a broad smile on his own lips. The Führer patted the boy on the head in an undeniable affectionate manner, and he reached for a small box that one of his escorts held.
Selim blinked in a puzzled manner, but then he felt his eyes widening when realisation caught up with him. “Is that for me?” he asked happily.
“It certainly is,” the Führer answered, giving the present to Selim. “Happy Birthday, son.”
Selim took the present and opened it, eager to see what was inside. He let out a small cry of joy when he took out a small toy-train.
“Thank you, father!” he said.
“You’re welcome, my boy,” the Führer said. “Why don’t you go to the living room and play with it for a while?”
Selim didn’t have to be told twice, of course. He quickly turned on his heel and went to the living room, the train still in his hands.
“Selim, we’ll have dinner soon. Don’t forget yourself!” his mother pointed out.
“I won’t!” Selim promised.
The woman shook her head at that, and she walked over to her husband to give him an affectionate kiss. “Hello, dear. Welcome home.”
“It feels good to be home,” Bradley answered. “Any news?”
She giggled. “I hardly have the busy life you have,” she replied. “I’ve only prepared our son’s birthday dinner.” She straightened his collar, making it look presentable as it was appropriate for a man of his stature. “And how was work?”
“A lot and barely worth mulling over.”
The words had barely escaped his lips when one of the soldiers came into the foyer, seeming quite agitated.
“Sir,” he said, remembering to salute. “There has been news that the chairman has called for an emergency meeting of the parliament.”
Bradley raised an eyebrow at that. “Without me present? What is it about?”
“I… don’t know, Sir,” the soldier answered embarrassedly.
“Then find out,” the Führer said, his tone icy-cold. “That’s what--”
Bradley never completed his sentence, for it was in that moment that the sound of gunshots cut through the air. The woman flinched quite visibly, but his escort immediately snapped into action. As two of them stayed with Bradley, the other three looked out one of the windows to see what was going on.
“Go get Selim,” Bradley said, prodding the woman to move.
She hesitated at first. When she saw her husband’s calm expression, though, she managed to muster all her courage and she hurried off, calling Selim. Bradley, on the other hand, stepped close to the window.
“Sir, no!” one of the soldiers cried.
Another gunshot filled the air, but Bradley was hardly fazed. Motioning his head just a bit, he saw the bullet flying past his cheek, barely leaving so much as a scratch.
“Gentlemen, you now know where the sniper is. I suggest you got out there and apprehend him.”
Though his soldiers were shocked at the scene that unfolded before their eyes, they didn’t have the luxury to contemplate on it for long. They just complied with the Führer’s order and burst out of the mansion. So eager they were to catch the shooter, that they didn’t see the form of a young man moving stealthily under the shadows, heading straight for a small hatch at the back of the house.
When the boys and Beregond found themselves in front of a large steel-door, etched with alchemical arrays, they knew they had reached the right place. They all pushed it open, wincing at the loud crashing sound that reverberated throughout the hall that was revealed before them.
“So much for subtlety,” Ed muttered, and he looked at his surroundings. “That’s odd. The place looks pretty well-preserved for being four hundred years old.” Indeed, there was hardly any sign of wear on the walls and pillars. The structure looked almost as good as new.
“And look at those arrays, Brother,” Al said, locking his gaze on the elegant drawings on the walls. “They look like the array to create a philosopher’s stone.”
“Except they’re more elaborate,” Beregond added. “Whoever drew these knew what they were doing.”
“Looks like it’s the old man’s work,” Ed said, clenching his hands into fists. “I’m surprised he didn’t come back here to admire his handiwork.”
Beregond held his tongue and said nothing. He suspected that Hohenheim had come back here, but not for the reasons Ed believed. And, if there hadn’t been any news of Hohenheim by now, it could only mean that the 400 year old man had lost the fight with Dante. Beregond now realised that they had to stop Dante at all costs, or this world would be surrendered in her hands.
“That’s neither here nor there anymore,” Beregond said, unsheathing his sword. “I’m going after Dante.”
“Not a chance!” Ed said, revolting. “We’re all going together!”
“And risk having Envy and Gluttony attacking us from behind?” Beregond reasoned.” Someone has to deal with them, too.”
“Brother, he has a point,” Al said. “Maybe we ought to split up.”
Ed, however, didn’t seem so sure about this. His features scrunched to a deep frown, and he pursed his lips in thought. In the end, though, he let out a sigh of resignation.
“Okay, fine,” he said, and he faced Beregond. “Just don’t go and get yourself killed.”
Beregond couldn’t help but smile at that. “It would be pretty pathetic if I died just before the end,” he said with a wink, a gesture done in an attempt to reassure the teen alchemist; then he hurried to a flight of stairs to his left.
Ed shook his head and looked at Al, a wry expression settling on his features. “You know, Al… I begin to wonder if we have been a bad influence on him.”
“If we have, he doesn’t seem to mind,” Al answered, his teasing tone quite audible in his voice.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
The boys froze, the voice almost startling them. However, the quickly realised that it wasn’t Lyra’s as they thought at first, but…
As if on cue, Rose herself came down another flight of stairs, the dress she wore making a soft rustling sound. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening when she noticed her friends.
“Ed! Al! What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Now that’s funny; I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Ed replied, frowning. But then, as the thought occurred to him, he clenched his jaw and held up his blade. “Unless you’re not Rose.”
Rose gasped, seeming shocked. “What? What do you mean, Ed?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Envy,” Ed replied, taking a step forward. “You forgot that Rose can’t talk. And there’s no sign of the baby either.”
‘Rose’ smirked malevolently and she held up her hands in resignation. “I’m impressed,” she said. “You actually got one of the two correct.”
Ed flinched at those words. “The baby is here?!” he exclaimed, and then a terrible suspicion formed in the back of his mind. “What have you done to Rose?”
“Put her out of her miserable existence. That’s what her life was ever since you decided that she and the other Liorites needed saving from Father Cornello,” Envy answered, a toothy grin forming on his lips when that sparked anger in Ed’s heart. In the next moment, Envy changed to the form of Hughes and he ran his hand through his hair. “Then again, Rose’s life wasn’t the only one you screwed, was it?”
Ed clenched his jaw and set himself in a defensive position. “Al, the baby must be here somewhere. Find it and get out of here.”
Al simply set himself in a defensive position as well, standing at his brother’s side.
“Al?!” Ed asked, staring at his brother incredulously.
“I’m not leaving you alone with him,” the suit of armour answered.
“But…!”
“Oh, trust him, shrimp,” Envy said, grinning almost maniacally now. “You’ll need all the help you can get.”
The snarls were the only warning Ed and Al got as Gluttony charged at both of them from behind.
“Please, Mrs Bradley,” one of the soldiers said, looking in the woman’s direction; she was hastily filling a suitcase with as many things as she could. “We need to take you to safety.”
“I’m coming,” Mrs Bradley said, closing the suitcase with a sharp clicking sound. “Selim!” she cried.
“The boy immediately appeared, still holding the toy train in his hands. “Yes, mother?”
She walked up to him, her suitcase in one hand, and she knelt in front of him. “I want you to listen to me carefully, Selim. We have to leave as fast as we can. Stay with me at all time, do you understand?”
Selim’s eyes widened, looking at his mother worriedly. “What about Father?”
“He’ll find us later,” Mrs Bradley promised, and she took her son by the hand to guide him down the hall. The Führer himself was already there, giving his last orders to his men: to escort Mrs Bradley and Selim to safety.
“But, Sir, we must protect you!” the officer said, aghast.
“Are you questioning my orders, Lieutenant Colonel?” King Bradley asked, his look practically piercing the officer through.
The lieutenant colonel swallowed hard, then shook his head. “No, Sir.”
“Then do as I say,” Bradley said, picking a sword that decorated the wall close to him.
“Yes, Sir,” the lieutenant colonel said, yet he still hesitated. “Uh… What will you do?”
Bradley tested the blade’s sharpness, a strange smile tugging on his lips.
“I’ll go after a rat.”
Beregond kept his jaw clenched and his fingers wrapped tightly around his sword. The corridor seemed empty, but the Gondorian knew that looks could be deceiving. So, he constantly looked in all directions, almost expecting either one of the Homunculi or Dante herself to lunge at him.
Nothing of the sort happened though. In fact, he was quite surprised when his ears picked up the sound of music… and it was coming from the room at the far side of the corridor. He licked his dry lips once, steadied his pounding hear, and he turned the handle. The door opened with a slightly creaking sound, easily covered by the gramophone as it still played on the lilting melody.
Even so, the young woman who turned on her seat to greet him looked hardly surprised by his presence.
“Well, well,” the young woman said. “I was expecting you sooner than that, Mr. Beregond.”
Beregond stiffened. “I would have said that you have me at a disadvantage since I don’t know your name, but I think it’s obvious who you are.”
“I’m amazed by the swiftness of your deductions,” Dante said, smiling. “Almost as amazed as I am about your own little secret.”
“Then the time of introductions is over,” Beregond declared, waving his hand. At the next moment, the wooden door was welded shut, sealing the two alchemists in the room. “This ends now.”
Dante shook her head in mock sympathy. “Such anger. I pity you. With that kind of power in your fingertips, you could rule the world.”
“The same way you have for the last four hundred years?” Beregond said. “I’ll pass.”
“Why do you disapprove of me?” Dante asked. “Because I strive to change the world?”
“Because you used it to your own ends!”
“A necessary evil so that the world will become what it should be.”
Beregond glared at the young woman. “You’re in no position to decide that.”
“Aren’t I? Aren’t you?” Dante said. “We are the closest things to gods there are, Beregond. Throughout time, humans were always in the need of a superior force to guide them and give them meaning to their meagre existence.” Her smile broadened. “But we could be that force in place of those that the humans have been turning to all these years, and yet received nothing but pain and disappointment.”
“We don’t get pain and disappointment from gods. It’s because of gods that humans – like you and I – find the strength to endure,” Beregond pointed out.
“Should there be any suffering the first place?” Dante asked softly, walking up to the man. “You have been through enough of it in your lifetime, haven’t you? And what did your gods do for you? Your world, your whole being, got swept away in one breath.”
Beregond froze, his hands trembling. Dante, however, was far from finished.
“But no more. With your knowledge and my philosopher’s stone, we could make this world a perfect place, a paradise. There wouldn’t be any more wars, sadness or regrets. Isn’t that what you want for those two boys?”
“It is,” the man said, his voice coming out hoarse.
“Then offer them that chance,” Dante replied, and she boldly clasped Beregond’s hand. “The world is yours. Take it.”
That snapped Beregond out of his confusion and doubt. He sprang back as though he got burnt.
“And then what? What will happen when my knowledge and your philosopher’s stone aren’t enough anymore?” His voice came out stronger, full of determination. “War will break out again, and there will be sadness and regret all over; for whenever there’s creation, there must be destruction. That’s how the world moves on, and the people within it have to choose which of those two paths they’re to walk.” He held up his sword once more, setting himself in a defensive position. “You aren’t offering that choice.”
“And now you’ve left me with none either,” Dante said, her face etching in an expression of anger and cruelty. “If you won’t use the power that was bestowed upon you so generously, then I’ll have it as my own!”
With that, she connected her hands together, and the blue light of transmutation filled the air as the battle began.
Little Selim, however, didn’t really care about such formalities. As long as his father came, he was happy.
Just then, another pair of headlights appeared in the distance. Selim sat up, watching with bated breath the direction that the car took. When he saw it heading towards the mansion, he could hardly contain his excitement anymore.
“Mom! Mom! Father is back!” the young boy cried and he immediately rushed to the main door.
“Selim, don’t run in the house!” his mother chided mildly, but Selim hardly paid attention. By the time Selim reached the foyer, his father was already entering, hading his coat over to the butler.
“Father! Welcome back!” Selim said, hurrying to King Bradley. Though the man wasn’t his real father, it didn’t mean that he didn’t love him as one.
The Führer directed his gaze to Selim, and his lips tugged to his familiar smile. “Hello, son. Are you happy to see me?”
Selim nodded emphatically, a broad smile on his own lips. The Führer patted the boy on the head in an undeniable affectionate manner, and he reached for a small box that one of his escorts held.
Selim blinked in a puzzled manner, but then he felt his eyes widening when realisation caught up with him. “Is that for me?” he asked happily.
“It certainly is,” the Führer answered, giving the present to Selim. “Happy Birthday, son.”
Selim took the present and opened it, eager to see what was inside. He let out a small cry of joy when he took out a small toy-train.
“Thank you, father!” he said.
“You’re welcome, my boy,” the Führer said. “Why don’t you go to the living room and play with it for a while?”
Selim didn’t have to be told twice, of course. He quickly turned on his heel and went to the living room, the train still in his hands.
“Selim, we’ll have dinner soon. Don’t forget yourself!” his mother pointed out.
“I won’t!” Selim promised.
The woman shook her head at that, and she walked over to her husband to give him an affectionate kiss. “Hello, dear. Welcome home.”
“It feels good to be home,” Bradley answered. “Any news?”
She giggled. “I hardly have the busy life you have,” she replied. “I’ve only prepared our son’s birthday dinner.” She straightened his collar, making it look presentable as it was appropriate for a man of his stature. “And how was work?”
“A lot and barely worth mulling over.”
The words had barely escaped his lips when one of the soldiers came into the foyer, seeming quite agitated.
“Sir,” he said, remembering to salute. “There has been news that the chairman has called for an emergency meeting of the parliament.”
Bradley raised an eyebrow at that. “Without me present? What is it about?”
“I… don’t know, Sir,” the soldier answered embarrassedly.
“Then find out,” the Führer said, his tone icy-cold. “That’s what--”
Bradley never completed his sentence, for it was in that moment that the sound of gunshots cut through the air. The woman flinched quite visibly, but his escort immediately snapped into action. As two of them stayed with Bradley, the other three looked out one of the windows to see what was going on.
“Go get Selim,” Bradley said, prodding the woman to move.
She hesitated at first. When she saw her husband’s calm expression, though, she managed to muster all her courage and she hurried off, calling Selim. Bradley, on the other hand, stepped close to the window.
“Sir, no!” one of the soldiers cried.
Another gunshot filled the air, but Bradley was hardly fazed. Motioning his head just a bit, he saw the bullet flying past his cheek, barely leaving so much as a scratch.
“Gentlemen, you now know where the sniper is. I suggest you got out there and apprehend him.”
Though his soldiers were shocked at the scene that unfolded before their eyes, they didn’t have the luxury to contemplate on it for long. They just complied with the Führer’s order and burst out of the mansion. So eager they were to catch the shooter, that they didn’t see the form of a young man moving stealthily under the shadows, heading straight for a small hatch at the back of the house.
When the boys and Beregond found themselves in front of a large steel-door, etched with alchemical arrays, they knew they had reached the right place. They all pushed it open, wincing at the loud crashing sound that reverberated throughout the hall that was revealed before them.
“So much for subtlety,” Ed muttered, and he looked at his surroundings. “That’s odd. The place looks pretty well-preserved for being four hundred years old.” Indeed, there was hardly any sign of wear on the walls and pillars. The structure looked almost as good as new.
“And look at those arrays, Brother,” Al said, locking his gaze on the elegant drawings on the walls. “They look like the array to create a philosopher’s stone.”
“Except they’re more elaborate,” Beregond added. “Whoever drew these knew what they were doing.”
“Looks like it’s the old man’s work,” Ed said, clenching his hands into fists. “I’m surprised he didn’t come back here to admire his handiwork.”
Beregond held his tongue and said nothing. He suspected that Hohenheim had come back here, but not for the reasons Ed believed. And, if there hadn’t been any news of Hohenheim by now, it could only mean that the 400 year old man had lost the fight with Dante. Beregond now realised that they had to stop Dante at all costs, or this world would be surrendered in her hands.
“That’s neither here nor there anymore,” Beregond said, unsheathing his sword. “I’m going after Dante.”
“Not a chance!” Ed said, revolting. “We’re all going together!”
“And risk having Envy and Gluttony attacking us from behind?” Beregond reasoned.” Someone has to deal with them, too.”
“Brother, he has a point,” Al said. “Maybe we ought to split up.”
Ed, however, didn’t seem so sure about this. His features scrunched to a deep frown, and he pursed his lips in thought. In the end, though, he let out a sigh of resignation.
“Okay, fine,” he said, and he faced Beregond. “Just don’t go and get yourself killed.”
Beregond couldn’t help but smile at that. “It would be pretty pathetic if I died just before the end,” he said with a wink, a gesture done in an attempt to reassure the teen alchemist; then he hurried to a flight of stairs to his left.
Ed shook his head and looked at Al, a wry expression settling on his features. “You know, Al… I begin to wonder if we have been a bad influence on him.”
“If we have, he doesn’t seem to mind,” Al answered, his teasing tone quite audible in his voice.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
The boys froze, the voice almost startling them. However, the quickly realised that it wasn’t Lyra’s as they thought at first, but…
As if on cue, Rose herself came down another flight of stairs, the dress she wore making a soft rustling sound. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening when she noticed her friends.
“Ed! Al! What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Now that’s funny; I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Ed replied, frowning. But then, as the thought occurred to him, he clenched his jaw and held up his blade. “Unless you’re not Rose.”
Rose gasped, seeming shocked. “What? What do you mean, Ed?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Envy,” Ed replied, taking a step forward. “You forgot that Rose can’t talk. And there’s no sign of the baby either.”
‘Rose’ smirked malevolently and she held up her hands in resignation. “I’m impressed,” she said. “You actually got one of the two correct.”
Ed flinched at those words. “The baby is here?!” he exclaimed, and then a terrible suspicion formed in the back of his mind. “What have you done to Rose?”
“Put her out of her miserable existence. That’s what her life was ever since you decided that she and the other Liorites needed saving from Father Cornello,” Envy answered, a toothy grin forming on his lips when that sparked anger in Ed’s heart. In the next moment, Envy changed to the form of Hughes and he ran his hand through his hair. “Then again, Rose’s life wasn’t the only one you screwed, was it?”
Ed clenched his jaw and set himself in a defensive position. “Al, the baby must be here somewhere. Find it and get out of here.”
Al simply set himself in a defensive position as well, standing at his brother’s side.
“Al?!” Ed asked, staring at his brother incredulously.
“I’m not leaving you alone with him,” the suit of armour answered.
“But…!”
“Oh, trust him, shrimp,” Envy said, grinning almost maniacally now. “You’ll need all the help you can get.”
The snarls were the only warning Ed and Al got as Gluttony charged at both of them from behind.
“Please, Mrs Bradley,” one of the soldiers said, looking in the woman’s direction; she was hastily filling a suitcase with as many things as she could. “We need to take you to safety.”
“I’m coming,” Mrs Bradley said, closing the suitcase with a sharp clicking sound. “Selim!” she cried.
“The boy immediately appeared, still holding the toy train in his hands. “Yes, mother?”
She walked up to him, her suitcase in one hand, and she knelt in front of him. “I want you to listen to me carefully, Selim. We have to leave as fast as we can. Stay with me at all time, do you understand?”
Selim’s eyes widened, looking at his mother worriedly. “What about Father?”
“He’ll find us later,” Mrs Bradley promised, and she took her son by the hand to guide him down the hall. The Führer himself was already there, giving his last orders to his men: to escort Mrs Bradley and Selim to safety.
“But, Sir, we must protect you!” the officer said, aghast.
“Are you questioning my orders, Lieutenant Colonel?” King Bradley asked, his look practically piercing the officer through.
The lieutenant colonel swallowed hard, then shook his head. “No, Sir.”
“Then do as I say,” Bradley said, picking a sword that decorated the wall close to him.
“Yes, Sir,” the lieutenant colonel said, yet he still hesitated. “Uh… What will you do?”
Bradley tested the blade’s sharpness, a strange smile tugging on his lips.
“I’ll go after a rat.”
Beregond kept his jaw clenched and his fingers wrapped tightly around his sword. The corridor seemed empty, but the Gondorian knew that looks could be deceiving. So, he constantly looked in all directions, almost expecting either one of the Homunculi or Dante herself to lunge at him.
Nothing of the sort happened though. In fact, he was quite surprised when his ears picked up the sound of music… and it was coming from the room at the far side of the corridor. He licked his dry lips once, steadied his pounding hear, and he turned the handle. The door opened with a slightly creaking sound, easily covered by the gramophone as it still played on the lilting melody.
Even so, the young woman who turned on her seat to greet him looked hardly surprised by his presence.
“Well, well,” the young woman said. “I was expecting you sooner than that, Mr. Beregond.”
Beregond stiffened. “I would have said that you have me at a disadvantage since I don’t know your name, but I think it’s obvious who you are.”
“I’m amazed by the swiftness of your deductions,” Dante said, smiling. “Almost as amazed as I am about your own little secret.”
“Then the time of introductions is over,” Beregond declared, waving his hand. At the next moment, the wooden door was welded shut, sealing the two alchemists in the room. “This ends now.”
Dante shook her head in mock sympathy. “Such anger. I pity you. With that kind of power in your fingertips, you could rule the world.”
“The same way you have for the last four hundred years?” Beregond said. “I’ll pass.”
“Why do you disapprove of me?” Dante asked. “Because I strive to change the world?”
“Because you used it to your own ends!”
“A necessary evil so that the world will become what it should be.”
Beregond glared at the young woman. “You’re in no position to decide that.”
“Aren’t I? Aren’t you?” Dante said. “We are the closest things to gods there are, Beregond. Throughout time, humans were always in the need of a superior force to guide them and give them meaning to their meagre existence.” Her smile broadened. “But we could be that force in place of those that the humans have been turning to all these years, and yet received nothing but pain and disappointment.”
“We don’t get pain and disappointment from gods. It’s because of gods that humans – like you and I – find the strength to endure,” Beregond pointed out.
“Should there be any suffering the first place?” Dante asked softly, walking up to the man. “You have been through enough of it in your lifetime, haven’t you? And what did your gods do for you? Your world, your whole being, got swept away in one breath.”
Beregond froze, his hands trembling. Dante, however, was far from finished.
“But no more. With your knowledge and my philosopher’s stone, we could make this world a perfect place, a paradise. There wouldn’t be any more wars, sadness or regrets. Isn’t that what you want for those two boys?”
“It is,” the man said, his voice coming out hoarse.
“Then offer them that chance,” Dante replied, and she boldly clasped Beregond’s hand. “The world is yours. Take it.”
That snapped Beregond out of his confusion and doubt. He sprang back as though he got burnt.
“And then what? What will happen when my knowledge and your philosopher’s stone aren’t enough anymore?” His voice came out stronger, full of determination. “War will break out again, and there will be sadness and regret all over; for whenever there’s creation, there must be destruction. That’s how the world moves on, and the people within it have to choose which of those two paths they’re to walk.” He held up his sword once more, setting himself in a defensive position. “You aren’t offering that choice.”
“And now you’ve left me with none either,” Dante said, her face etching in an expression of anger and cruelty. “If you won’t use the power that was bestowed upon you so generously, then I’ll have it as my own!”
With that, she connected her hands together, and the blue light of transmutation filled the air as the battle began.
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