The Gate Of Truth
Dante stood in front of a large mirror, eyes scrutinising the reflection and correcting any small imperfections on her attire. Once her broach was straight and there were no wrinkles on the long old-fashioned dress she wore, she started fixing her hair and checking her makeup.
“How long do you plan on doing this?”
Dante looked at the mirror, catching sight of Envy standing on the threshold of the room, and she smiled.
“Why, till everything is perfect, of course,” she replied, and she turned her attention back to her hair. “We’re about to have an important guest, after all.”
“You really think that he’s going to come?” Envy asked, frowning. “He hardly showed his face to the rest of the world, much less to you and me!”
“I know how he thinks. You’re aware of this better than anyone,” Dante said. She reached for a small bottle with perfume that was on the table nearby and opened it to pour a couple of drops of the aromatic liquid on her neck. “Where are the others?”
“Sloth is taking care of the baby and the runt; one could say she’s a natural,” Envy answered with a smirk. “And, of course, Gluttony is still snivelling close to Lust, crouching on the wall you’ve nailed her on.”
Dante huffed. “Gluttony has become too attached to her. I will have to rectify that.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Envy asked, crossing his arms.
Dante never got the chance to answer, because it was in that moment that a loud crash reverberated throughout the whole building. Envy flinched, yet Dante smiled knowingly.
“He’s here.”
Indeed, the angry voice of Hohenheim filled the air, and another crash made everything practically shake.
“Dante, you’d better come out here now!”
She did, but she certainly took her time. Walking with the air of a lady, she went down a flight of winding stairs and then entered the main hall. Hohenheim was already standing in the centre of the room, panting softly, surrounded by evidence of his violent entrance; the place was filled with debris and broken wooden beams. As for Gluttony, he had cowered even closer to Lust, who looked at the scene with eyes wide open.
“Ah… Hohenheim,” Dante said almost sweetly. “To say that this is quite the surprise would be a lie.”
“Then you know why I’m here,” Hohenheim said, eyes burning with fury. He lifted his right hand, and several stony statues arose from the debris, prepared to attack. “I won’t let you use my sons anymore!”
“My, my… such care. Strange, considering you have a habit of abandoning your offspring,” Dante replied, hardly fazed.
Hohenheim said nothing. He simply waved his hand, and the statues started moving towards Dante’s direction. Laughing, the woman connected her hands together, and the statues shattered to pieces. A rock rolled in Gluttony’s direction, and he touched it in his childlike curiosity. However, he quickly recoiled, for the rock was hot to the touch.
Hohenheim wouldn’t give up so easily though. He waved his hand again, and the ground shook violently underneath Dante’s feet. This time, Dante transmuted a ball of fire from the candles on the chandelier above them, and Hohenheim had to sidestep before the red tongues scorched him.
Dante chuckled. “I see you’re as strong as ever. But I’m afraid that your strength is about to reach its limits.”
Hohenheim clenched his jaw. “You’re right, my limit is near; but yours is as well,” he said through gritted teeth. “You may hide yourself behind finery; but the smell of your perfume doesn’t fool me.”
With that, he waved his hand again. Dante flinched as the sharp wave of air cut her torso like a knife, tearing the dress and revealing what she had been meticulously hiding all this time: a patch of rotting flesh.
Lust stared at Dante incredulously, the sight stunning her. “What… What’s the meaning of this?”
“This is your mistress’ true form,” Hohenheim answered, his eyes never leaving Dante’s form. “That’s what you’ve been serving all along.”
Dante covered the patch with her hand, the ugly lines of anger smoothing away to an indulging smile. “Hohenheim… I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. We understand each other too perfectly.” Her other hand reached her neck and caressed it in quite the suggestive manner. “And this body is willing to know you once more.”
Hohenheim snorted. “I only loved one woman, Dante, and it wasn’t you.”
“Oh?” Dante clicked her tongue several times in disapproval. “That’s not what you whispered in my ear four hundred years ago, when I was still an innocent child.”
“That wasn’t love,” Hohenheim countered, though his resolve slowly ebbed away.
“Then what was it?” Dante asked. “Four hundred years ago, when we had finally reached our goal and created the philosopher’s stone out of the lives that this city held in her bosom… when you were dying because of a rebound… Didn’t I use the stone to transmute your soul to another body so I could save you?”
Hohenheim opened his mouth to speak, but Lust was faster.
“Are you saying that you had already created a philosopher’s stone?” she exclaimed, aghast. “Then why did you have us search for someone else to create the philosopher’s stone for you?”
“Because even a philosopher’s stone has its limits,” Dante answered. “I used up the last ounce of its power to get into this body, and I can’t make another one anymore – not without the help of someone who’s as powerful as Hohenheim.” She faced the bespectacled man again, regarding him quite disappointedly. “Why, my love? Why did you leave after all I had done for you?”
Hohenheim sighed, his expression becoming melancholic.
“Dante… Death can’t be defeated. Not even with a philosopher’s stone.”
“Everything seems to be quiet now,” Roy commented. He was inside the train compartment with the Elric Brothers and Beregond, keeping his arms crossed and giving the impression that he was escorting his subordinates to Central under strict supervision. Indeed, even Riza, Havoc and the others took up strategic positions inside the train, just as it was expected of them whenever they were guarding an important sort of cargo.
“There’s always calm before the tempest,” Beregond said, sitting next to Al, who was gently rubbing the Gondorian’s back in a comforting motion; some habits simply died hard.
“And that means?” Roy asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
“It means you don’t know our Teacher,” Ed answered, grimacing.
The words barely left Ed’s lips when the proverbial hell broke loose. Several gunshots filled the air, probably courtesy of Riza, and then the familiar light of an alchemical reaction brightened the compartment. At the next moment, two wooden fists hit Roy and Beregond on the jaw, knocking them out cold. Ed and Al looked out, already suspecting who was behind the attack, and froze in a frightened manner at the sight of Izumi approaching them. Al made a motion to turn around and run away, but bumped on Mr. Curtis instead.
“Brother…” Al all but squeaked.
Yet Ed couldn’t do anything. And so, in a matter of seconds, Izumi and Mr. Curtis had dragged both brothers away. Only then did Roy and Beregond lift their heads again in order to assess the situation.
“She didn’t even give me a chance to fight,” Roy pointed out, rubbing the sore spot on the chin. He looked at Beregond, who had brought himself back to a sitting position. “At least the boys acted their parts well enough.”
“That wasn’t acting,” Beregond replied with a wince, also rubbing the forming bruise on his cheek. “Considering she doesn’t like the military, she probably enjoyed this too.” He got back on his feet, shaking his head to rid himself of the last remnants of dizziness. “I should go after them.”
“Wait.”
Beregond faced Roy. “Sir?”
“Give them a good head-start first.”
Beregond understood and stayed put, even though his body itched to rush forward. Finally, as soon as Roy deemed it was time and nodded his permission, the Gondorian ran off, very much like a hound in hot pursuit. Roy could only watch Beregond go, three words flowing out of his lips.
“Good luck, Sergeant.”
Dante stared at Hohenheim, the grip on her side tightening. What the bespectacled man had told her shook her, and yet she still wasn’t willing to believe him.
“My soul… is eroding?” she asked quietly.
Hohenheim sighed. “Yes. Each time that we transmute our souls into another body, a part of our soul is destroyed. Now, after so many transmutations, our souls no longer have the power to hold a body. If we attempt another jump, we’ll die.”
Dante clenched her jaw. “No… not if we have another philosopher’s stone!”
Lust let out a snarl that belied her lady-like features. “So… you will use the philosopher’s stone on yourself again!”
“Oh, don’t act so surprised on me! Why do you think I gathered you all under my command in the first place?” Dante said impatiently. “I needed helpers, and you were the ones best fit for the job. Especially her.”
As if on cue, Sloth walked down the flight of stairs and looked at Hohenheim, the baby in her arms. Hohenheim gasped and looked at the creature that resembled Trisha so much, and his hands started trembling violently.
“Tri…”
Dante smiled smugly, feeling that she had the upper hand once more. “It’s nice to see your precious wife again, isn’t it?” she asked almost sweetly.
“That’s not her,” Hohenheim murmured.
“No… But you still can’t hurt her,” Dante pointed out in a pleased tone. She took the baby from Sloth and started walking towards Hohenheim, her steps slow and full of purpose. “You know, Hohenheim… I have done some research of my own as well. I always wondered what was beyond the Gate that holds the Truth, even if there was a way to open it. It took me a while, but I found the answer. A part of the gate is within us. And, when the link between the mind, the body and the soul is weak, like in the case of an infant… or a resurrected man… you can even summon the gate.”
Hohenheim bit his lower lip. “You… know about him.”
“Oh yes, I do,” Dante replied. “Care to see where he came from?”
At the next moment, she uncovered the baby, revealing his tummy. The baby cried out at the rough treatment, but Dante didn’t care about that. She simply placed a hand on the small five-pointed star that she had drawn on the baby when she first took it from Rose, and activated the array. In a flash, everything was covered in blinding light that surrounded Hohenheim, and everyone had to look away, shutting their eyes.
By the time they opened their eyes again, Hohenheim was nowhere to be seen.
Hohenheim opened his eyes, only to find himself in a place with no sense of direction, and a great Gate towering over him in all its mighty glory. He knew where he was; he had read about that place in almost every alchemical book in a time that he was young and naïve himself, when the notion of death feared him so much that he made it his life-long goal to avoid that fate. Now, however, he was ready to embrace it, for the burden of time weighed too heavily on his shoulders.
“Tri… We’ll finally meet again. I’m sure you want to hear about your sons.”
The terrible creaking sound as the Gate opened resonated everywhere, reverberating through him. He still watched on unwaveringly as the serpent-like black arms reached out for him.
“We don’t have to worry about them. They have your blood in their veins.”
With that, he let the guardians of the Gate carry him beyond the boundaries of his world.
“Y- you sent him there, didn’t you?”
Dante turned to Wrath, almost amused. After all, it was quite interesting to see a powerful homunculus, however young he was, to speak so weakly and shake like a leaf.
“It’s alright, Wrath,” she said, her tone a mere mock of comfort. “You won’t have to go back there anymore. Unless, of course, you disappoint me.”
Wrath flinched and cowered in a corner, and Sloth had to rush to him and hold him soothingly in her arms. Dante curled her upper lip in distaste and covered the baby’s tummy again.
“Sloth, I suggest you refrain from those motherly instincts of yours,” she said. “That was your look alike’s job only.”
Sloth didn’t listen though. She still held Wrath close, another thought crossing her mind.
“You said that the Gondorian could summon the Gate too. Is it true?”
Dante dusted an invisible stain from her dress. “Theoretically speaking. He’s been in our world for only a year; the connection between his mind, his body and his soul is as weak as an infant’s.”
“It’s the Gate’s doing!” Wrath cried, practically in hysterics now. “It sent him here to do Its work!”
“Perhaps…” Dante said, an enigmatic smile on her features. She activated another array drawn on the wall, and Lust’s bonds vanished at once. The female homunculus dropped on her feet in a weakened state, but Gluttony offered his support so that she could stand up.
“You still have work to do,” the alchemist said coldly. “Pride is to bring the boys and the Gondorian in Central. You, Sloth and Wrath are to bring them here at once.”
Lust snarled and extended two fingers, the sharp lance-like nails stopping from piercing Date’s eyes at the last moment. “And why shouldn’t I just kill you now?”
“Because your life is still mine,” Dante answered, hardly fazed. “Once I get my hands on the philosopher’s stone, I just might make you human as well. Can anyone else offer you a better deal than that?”
With that final word, she calmly turned around, the baby in her arms, and walked away. She didn’t bother looking at the gleam of hatred reflected in Lust’s eyes.
TBC...
“How long do you plan on doing this?”
Dante looked at the mirror, catching sight of Envy standing on the threshold of the room, and she smiled.
“Why, till everything is perfect, of course,” she replied, and she turned her attention back to her hair. “We’re about to have an important guest, after all.”
“You really think that he’s going to come?” Envy asked, frowning. “He hardly showed his face to the rest of the world, much less to you and me!”
“I know how he thinks. You’re aware of this better than anyone,” Dante said. She reached for a small bottle with perfume that was on the table nearby and opened it to pour a couple of drops of the aromatic liquid on her neck. “Where are the others?”
“Sloth is taking care of the baby and the runt; one could say she’s a natural,” Envy answered with a smirk. “And, of course, Gluttony is still snivelling close to Lust, crouching on the wall you’ve nailed her on.”
Dante huffed. “Gluttony has become too attached to her. I will have to rectify that.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Envy asked, crossing his arms.
Dante never got the chance to answer, because it was in that moment that a loud crash reverberated throughout the whole building. Envy flinched, yet Dante smiled knowingly.
“He’s here.”
Indeed, the angry voice of Hohenheim filled the air, and another crash made everything practically shake.
“Dante, you’d better come out here now!”
She did, but she certainly took her time. Walking with the air of a lady, she went down a flight of winding stairs and then entered the main hall. Hohenheim was already standing in the centre of the room, panting softly, surrounded by evidence of his violent entrance; the place was filled with debris and broken wooden beams. As for Gluttony, he had cowered even closer to Lust, who looked at the scene with eyes wide open.
“Ah… Hohenheim,” Dante said almost sweetly. “To say that this is quite the surprise would be a lie.”
“Then you know why I’m here,” Hohenheim said, eyes burning with fury. He lifted his right hand, and several stony statues arose from the debris, prepared to attack. “I won’t let you use my sons anymore!”
“My, my… such care. Strange, considering you have a habit of abandoning your offspring,” Dante replied, hardly fazed.
Hohenheim said nothing. He simply waved his hand, and the statues started moving towards Dante’s direction. Laughing, the woman connected her hands together, and the statues shattered to pieces. A rock rolled in Gluttony’s direction, and he touched it in his childlike curiosity. However, he quickly recoiled, for the rock was hot to the touch.
Hohenheim wouldn’t give up so easily though. He waved his hand again, and the ground shook violently underneath Dante’s feet. This time, Dante transmuted a ball of fire from the candles on the chandelier above them, and Hohenheim had to sidestep before the red tongues scorched him.
Dante chuckled. “I see you’re as strong as ever. But I’m afraid that your strength is about to reach its limits.”
Hohenheim clenched his jaw. “You’re right, my limit is near; but yours is as well,” he said through gritted teeth. “You may hide yourself behind finery; but the smell of your perfume doesn’t fool me.”
With that, he waved his hand again. Dante flinched as the sharp wave of air cut her torso like a knife, tearing the dress and revealing what she had been meticulously hiding all this time: a patch of rotting flesh.
Lust stared at Dante incredulously, the sight stunning her. “What… What’s the meaning of this?”
“This is your mistress’ true form,” Hohenheim answered, his eyes never leaving Dante’s form. “That’s what you’ve been serving all along.”
Dante covered the patch with her hand, the ugly lines of anger smoothing away to an indulging smile. “Hohenheim… I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. We understand each other too perfectly.” Her other hand reached her neck and caressed it in quite the suggestive manner. “And this body is willing to know you once more.”
Hohenheim snorted. “I only loved one woman, Dante, and it wasn’t you.”
“Oh?” Dante clicked her tongue several times in disapproval. “That’s not what you whispered in my ear four hundred years ago, when I was still an innocent child.”
“That wasn’t love,” Hohenheim countered, though his resolve slowly ebbed away.
“Then what was it?” Dante asked. “Four hundred years ago, when we had finally reached our goal and created the philosopher’s stone out of the lives that this city held in her bosom… when you were dying because of a rebound… Didn’t I use the stone to transmute your soul to another body so I could save you?”
Hohenheim opened his mouth to speak, but Lust was faster.
“Are you saying that you had already created a philosopher’s stone?” she exclaimed, aghast. “Then why did you have us search for someone else to create the philosopher’s stone for you?”
“Because even a philosopher’s stone has its limits,” Dante answered. “I used up the last ounce of its power to get into this body, and I can’t make another one anymore – not without the help of someone who’s as powerful as Hohenheim.” She faced the bespectacled man again, regarding him quite disappointedly. “Why, my love? Why did you leave after all I had done for you?”
Hohenheim sighed, his expression becoming melancholic.
“Dante… Death can’t be defeated. Not even with a philosopher’s stone.”
“Everything seems to be quiet now,” Roy commented. He was inside the train compartment with the Elric Brothers and Beregond, keeping his arms crossed and giving the impression that he was escorting his subordinates to Central under strict supervision. Indeed, even Riza, Havoc and the others took up strategic positions inside the train, just as it was expected of them whenever they were guarding an important sort of cargo.
“There’s always calm before the tempest,” Beregond said, sitting next to Al, who was gently rubbing the Gondorian’s back in a comforting motion; some habits simply died hard.
“And that means?” Roy asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
“It means you don’t know our Teacher,” Ed answered, grimacing.
The words barely left Ed’s lips when the proverbial hell broke loose. Several gunshots filled the air, probably courtesy of Riza, and then the familiar light of an alchemical reaction brightened the compartment. At the next moment, two wooden fists hit Roy and Beregond on the jaw, knocking them out cold. Ed and Al looked out, already suspecting who was behind the attack, and froze in a frightened manner at the sight of Izumi approaching them. Al made a motion to turn around and run away, but bumped on Mr. Curtis instead.
“Brother…” Al all but squeaked.
Yet Ed couldn’t do anything. And so, in a matter of seconds, Izumi and Mr. Curtis had dragged both brothers away. Only then did Roy and Beregond lift their heads again in order to assess the situation.
“She didn’t even give me a chance to fight,” Roy pointed out, rubbing the sore spot on the chin. He looked at Beregond, who had brought himself back to a sitting position. “At least the boys acted their parts well enough.”
“That wasn’t acting,” Beregond replied with a wince, also rubbing the forming bruise on his cheek. “Considering she doesn’t like the military, she probably enjoyed this too.” He got back on his feet, shaking his head to rid himself of the last remnants of dizziness. “I should go after them.”
“Wait.”
Beregond faced Roy. “Sir?”
“Give them a good head-start first.”
Beregond understood and stayed put, even though his body itched to rush forward. Finally, as soon as Roy deemed it was time and nodded his permission, the Gondorian ran off, very much like a hound in hot pursuit. Roy could only watch Beregond go, three words flowing out of his lips.
“Good luck, Sergeant.”
Dante stared at Hohenheim, the grip on her side tightening. What the bespectacled man had told her shook her, and yet she still wasn’t willing to believe him.
“My soul… is eroding?” she asked quietly.
Hohenheim sighed. “Yes. Each time that we transmute our souls into another body, a part of our soul is destroyed. Now, after so many transmutations, our souls no longer have the power to hold a body. If we attempt another jump, we’ll die.”
Dante clenched her jaw. “No… not if we have another philosopher’s stone!”
Lust let out a snarl that belied her lady-like features. “So… you will use the philosopher’s stone on yourself again!”
“Oh, don’t act so surprised on me! Why do you think I gathered you all under my command in the first place?” Dante said impatiently. “I needed helpers, and you were the ones best fit for the job. Especially her.”
As if on cue, Sloth walked down the flight of stairs and looked at Hohenheim, the baby in her arms. Hohenheim gasped and looked at the creature that resembled Trisha so much, and his hands started trembling violently.
“Tri…”
Dante smiled smugly, feeling that she had the upper hand once more. “It’s nice to see your precious wife again, isn’t it?” she asked almost sweetly.
“That’s not her,” Hohenheim murmured.
“No… But you still can’t hurt her,” Dante pointed out in a pleased tone. She took the baby from Sloth and started walking towards Hohenheim, her steps slow and full of purpose. “You know, Hohenheim… I have done some research of my own as well. I always wondered what was beyond the Gate that holds the Truth, even if there was a way to open it. It took me a while, but I found the answer. A part of the gate is within us. And, when the link between the mind, the body and the soul is weak, like in the case of an infant… or a resurrected man… you can even summon the gate.”
Hohenheim bit his lower lip. “You… know about him.”
“Oh yes, I do,” Dante replied. “Care to see where he came from?”
At the next moment, she uncovered the baby, revealing his tummy. The baby cried out at the rough treatment, but Dante didn’t care about that. She simply placed a hand on the small five-pointed star that she had drawn on the baby when she first took it from Rose, and activated the array. In a flash, everything was covered in blinding light that surrounded Hohenheim, and everyone had to look away, shutting their eyes.
By the time they opened their eyes again, Hohenheim was nowhere to be seen.
Hohenheim opened his eyes, only to find himself in a place with no sense of direction, and a great Gate towering over him in all its mighty glory. He knew where he was; he had read about that place in almost every alchemical book in a time that he was young and naïve himself, when the notion of death feared him so much that he made it his life-long goal to avoid that fate. Now, however, he was ready to embrace it, for the burden of time weighed too heavily on his shoulders.
“Tri… We’ll finally meet again. I’m sure you want to hear about your sons.”
The terrible creaking sound as the Gate opened resonated everywhere, reverberating through him. He still watched on unwaveringly as the serpent-like black arms reached out for him.
“We don’t have to worry about them. They have your blood in their veins.”
With that, he let the guardians of the Gate carry him beyond the boundaries of his world.
“Y- you sent him there, didn’t you?”
Dante turned to Wrath, almost amused. After all, it was quite interesting to see a powerful homunculus, however young he was, to speak so weakly and shake like a leaf.
“It’s alright, Wrath,” she said, her tone a mere mock of comfort. “You won’t have to go back there anymore. Unless, of course, you disappoint me.”
Wrath flinched and cowered in a corner, and Sloth had to rush to him and hold him soothingly in her arms. Dante curled her upper lip in distaste and covered the baby’s tummy again.
“Sloth, I suggest you refrain from those motherly instincts of yours,” she said. “That was your look alike’s job only.”
Sloth didn’t listen though. She still held Wrath close, another thought crossing her mind.
“You said that the Gondorian could summon the Gate too. Is it true?”
Dante dusted an invisible stain from her dress. “Theoretically speaking. He’s been in our world for only a year; the connection between his mind, his body and his soul is as weak as an infant’s.”
“It’s the Gate’s doing!” Wrath cried, practically in hysterics now. “It sent him here to do Its work!”
“Perhaps…” Dante said, an enigmatic smile on her features. She activated another array drawn on the wall, and Lust’s bonds vanished at once. The female homunculus dropped on her feet in a weakened state, but Gluttony offered his support so that she could stand up.
“You still have work to do,” the alchemist said coldly. “Pride is to bring the boys and the Gondorian in Central. You, Sloth and Wrath are to bring them here at once.”
Lust snarled and extended two fingers, the sharp lance-like nails stopping from piercing Date’s eyes at the last moment. “And why shouldn’t I just kill you now?”
“Because your life is still mine,” Dante answered, hardly fazed. “Once I get my hands on the philosopher’s stone, I just might make you human as well. Can anyone else offer you a better deal than that?”
With that final word, she calmly turned around, the baby in her arms, and walked away. She didn’t bother looking at the gleam of hatred reflected in Lust’s eyes.
TBC...
Subtitles