He desperately reached out grabbing nothing but air. Sitting awake in his seat he was drenched in sweat, tormenting thoughts eating away at his mind like ravenous parasites. Every time he slept he awoke in this manner and every time he was plagued by the truth that awaited him. Too long he had dwelled in the past. Too long he had searched for the "Power of God." Too long he had been alone. For too long he had believed in a false truth.

The power of God was just that, the power of God. No mortal being was meant to give life to the dead, to forge a being from calculated measurements of minerals and no mortal being was ever under any circumstances supposed to be able to create God's battery of life, a soul. God had created everything, the trees, sky, birds and everything else in sight. What had man ever created? Had man ever created a soul? True the Homunculus had been created and true they were alive, but they could hardly be described as having a soul.

He shook the thoughts of an Immortal being who watched and cared from his head. Besides in his mind God was a tale told to people to keep them in line like cattle and sheep. One of man's deepest fears was to embrace the fact that life could be meaningless and that the purpose of life is to reproduce. Men constantly needed to be assured of their dominance over other animals. They needed to believe that some higher being was going to be there to watch them and insure that dominance. They needed to wake up, he, himself thought.

The darkness cradled his skin as a mother would but his attention was diverted away from its seemingly lifelike traits due to the small wisps of light that filtered through the closed shutter, warming his skin in a way the darkness never could. He opened the shutter completely so the light bore down into the room full bore eradicating the last of the shadowy caretaker. He sat back in his seat resting his head back and letting out a deep sigh.

He had come to the conclusion that his search was now at an end. He had decided that being a state alchemist was no longer important. He had decided that Colonel Mustang would have to investigate the matters of central alone. He'd decided to quit being a "Living Weapon" altogether. He'd turned in his state id-his alchemical pocket watch- however he had combined the actual one with his auto-mail arm and forged a copy to turn in. He had decided to return to Rizenbuhl. Alone.

As he sat in the seat of the train he stared out the window, gazing at the trees and wheat fields and the occasional farmhouse. Clouds above gently played games, melding into one another and breaking apart softly. The trip itself was a smooth one and he longed for some action, but somewhere deep inside him he felt the urge to go into the light willingly if an attempt was made to take his life. He glanced over occasionally however the seat was empty. Bad habit he had gotten himself used to he guessed.

The train was only minutes from his destination and he was still tormenting himself. He had to be strong, for Aunt Pinako and strong for…Winry. Ed really didn't want to do this to see the look on Winry's face; she had already learned true pain. The only family she had left was Pinako.

Making his way to the bathroom he felt eyes on his back and slightly considered glancing back, however the idea came and went as fast as a small breeze. When he entered the bathroom he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and he was compelled to inspect his reflection. He almost gasped in shock as he saw the person looking back at him. The face was his, from the blonde bangs that overhung his forehead to the mouth that so rarely smiled. Only one thing was different… the eyes. The eyes were dead and outlined with the consequence of a deprivation of sleep. His eyes didn't blink, they didn't twitch or sparkle, they just… stared with a lifelessness that the devil in all of his demonic glory could not muster or fathom.

He was lost in thought when the loud speaker broadcasted the arrival at Rizenbuhl and he hesitantly arose to feet. This was going to be harder than anything he had ever faced. How was he supposed to dump this on them both? Normally he would have ventured away; to some place else and left it behind him but that was no longer his outlook on this world. He wasn't coming here to burden them or to start a new life and act as if the past was gone. He wasn't coming here to start a family or search for new methods of human transmutation. He was coming here to die. He would build a house and he would live there until one day he would grow old and shrivel and wither away from the world of life.

The train station was hardly full, yet dozens of people still bustled about and he let the faces slip pat without a second thought. He was lost in thought, not as a genius would be but as a child would be in a candy shop would gaze at the jars of lemon drops and caramel chews. He was thrilled to be home, the happiest he had been in weeks. Probably the happiest he would be ever again.

After a few minutes the feeling passed as if it were just a chill passing through the station and he was turned back to all he had, despair and depression. Possessions he had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.

He slowly traveled the countryside and he felt his stomach sink when he laid eyes on Pinako's house. This was the house where he had gotten his auto-mail limbs and the house where he was to explain everything. The house where he and Al had spent days with Winry playing games… being children. He seldom looked back at the cruelty of how that had been torn away from him… away from them all.

He reluctantly knocked on the door and his eyes sank to the ground when no one answered. He gazed off into the afternoon skyline. The world looked so peaceful. Such a lie should be deemed illegal. After all even on a microscopic scale war was constantly waged. The world was a harsh place and he had given up hope years ago.

He was roughly awakened from his thoughts as a wrench made contact with his skull. He just looked up and his eyes met those of his lifelong friend, Winry Rockbell. After all this time she had not changed, sure she had grown taller and she had matured more so than before but she maintained the innocence she exhibited after all these years. Her blonde hair was only two separate bangs that slipped out of her bandana and concealed her cheeks. It had been years since he had last seen her and in all this time she still possessed the same amount of worry as she always had, ever since they were children.

"Ed, why haven't you called!" her voice was filled with worry and concern and eventually settled into uncertainty. "What's wrong?" she asked as she noticed his lack of angry reaction to her assault. "Where's Al?"

He just stared at her and she began to cry with all her heart knowing very well that the last time she had ever seen that look on his face was years ago. The day he had lost his mother. The connection between their eyes felt as if lightning was flowing between them and she felt as if she couldn't move her feet from the floor. When she finally felt he legs twitch she took off down the steps and sprinted out the doors. She embraced him in a hug and cried into his shoulders partly for Al and partly for the look in Ed's eyes. The look in his eyes was unbearable. It looked as if the devil had reached in and plucked his heart out of his chest and held it to the heavens as an act of defiance and a challenge to the Lord himself. It looked as if the Lord had turned his back.

He failed to return the hug standing there as a statue would if it could be given life, uncertain of how to react to human contact. When she let go he stayed there briefly before collapsing and after a minute or so of silence he took her hands in his unable to lift his eyes from the ground.

"He's gone, …" he whispered in a voice that cut through her soul. A voice like that of an executed man who had comeback to life after experiencing the deepest, darkest bowels of hell and the price for his sins "…Winry… he's gone…for…good this time."

"I'm sorry Ed," she cried, her tears splashing the dirt in front of him. She loved Al as a brother and she was upset to see Edward not shedding a tear, however she knew him, he would not cry, no matter what the circumstance. "I wish he would have stayed here."

'So do I.' He thought, 'So do I.'

"Edward Elric," called a voice in the distance horizon. "What are you doing back? Shrimp."

Ed broke out of thoughts as he lifted his head to see who had called him. He rested his arms behind his head and sat back with his feet propped up on the railing. He could see two people making their way towards him and he slightly prepared for an attack before letting the idea slip from his mind.

As the couple approached he could make out the faces of John Kolc and his sister Lisa. Ed had attended school with John and Lisa years back. In fact John practiced alchemy as well however only on the side. Last Ed had heard he had become a doctor and his sister ran the family store.

John was a tall man around 6' 4" and he stood like a giant would after destroying one of the earth great cities. He was a built man who looked like a heavy hitter, yet his light blue eyes boasted an air of harmlessness that many people would indeed be compelled to trust under nearly any circumstance. He looked at Ed with eyes of friendship and confusion.

"Wow," he said with a hearty laugh. "I guess even you had to learn some anger control."

"Now John," Lisa spoke with a soft and heavenly voice that many would agree only belonged to someone who was no less than a goddess. Unlike her brother she was normal height and unlike her brother she looked friendly from her eyes to her sweet smile. "Edward's not that small anymore. He's grown. Can't you tell?"

True, Edward had grown to average stature but next to john he was still a "Shrimp." His figure had expanded too but he was still nowhere as big as John was. He had built muscle and he had become rather big for his size but he was not that large and he was glad for that. His speed would probably be cut in half in sacrifice for size. Besides, the size of the alchemist was not important the amount of knowledge he held in his mind however, was.

"How are you John?" he asked with fake interest and plastered smile, "Lisa?" he really didn't want company however he wasn't going to take out his pain on them. It wasn't their fault or their problem.

"Well we're doing good," John pronounced hands on his hips "Right Lisa?" he glanced over at his sister.

"Yeah," she said eyes watching the ground as if it were a poisonous snake threatening to strike at any given moment. "Just …fine."

"So," he removed his feet from the railing and folded his arms over his chest. "What's wrong?" he asked in a way implying that he knew they needed something so they should just get the point. They should know he had been reading what they were coming for since he saw them. All state alchemists regarded every situation with a complete analysis and examination all possible outcomes. Every outcome was predictable as long as you added up different factors in your head. Factors such as eye contact, speech, body language and things of those sorts could tell an alchemist the story of that person as long as the alchemist knew how to read the "words."

"Nothing," Lisa lied, "Why would you think that?" she brought her eyes up slightly to make contact with his and she forced a smile. He watched her hands twitch slightly at her sides. She looked on the verge of tears. From what Ed saw she was.

"Listen," he began to say in a tone that slightly demanded respect yet one that understood the awkwardness of asking a favor of someone. "Please don't question my intelligence. I can tell by the way you carried yourselves that something has happened. I can tell by the way you rarely make eye contact you feel shy and unconfident to ask something and by the way you shake and seem ready to cry I can deduct that what has happened could change your lives for the worst. And, by that look on your face I can tell that I am correct. I can also conclude that because you, Lisa, have come here with your brother either you both need something or you felt that the thought of leaving a woman without help might strike a place in my heart and persuade me to help. Or maybe it's a bit of both."

"So what are you saying?" John asked with his arms crossed and feet shoulder width apart. His gaze made contact with Ed's and he seemed unwilling to back down from his post.

"I'm saying" Ed smiled "you should just come out and ask. Stop beating around the bush so to speak. After all, no one ever achieved anything without giving something first. In this case in order to achieve you must first give me an accurate picture of what you want. I need to know what to do in order to help."

"Well first," John started "Can you help?"

"If you ask." Ed stood up and cracked his neck. He clapped his hands and transmuted a single rose handing it to Lisa. "But first you need to stop feeling depressed like you do and realize help is always around if you know where to find it."

"Well in order to ask your help we must first tell you why we need it." Lisa began "I hope you'll hear us out. It's a long story."

"I will hear you but I'm afraid you both will have to join me for dinner." Ed began "Otherwise I fear we might not have enough time."

"Sounds good." they agreed. They both seemed rather hesitant but then again they were going to have dinner with Edward Elric, the "Fullmetal Alchemist." He was the youngest alchemist in the history of the state. He was a legend throughout the country and rumors of his power spread throughout the land. He became known as an alchemist for the people. An alchemist who corrected the wrongs of the state's injustices to the people they were sworn to protect.

He watched them stroll off into the distance and when they had left his sight he stretched out and entered the house. He was greeted by Den who barked his appreciation that the alchemist was home and Ed patted him on his head.

"Hey Aunt Pinako," he shouted up the stairs "I'm having friends for dinner." He yawned and for the first time in days realized he was tired. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't slept in the past two days. Maybe it was the sitting around he was doing lately. Maybe it was this house. What ever it was he was dead tired. He might as well get some shuteye and besides the guests weren't to be here for hours leaving him with plenty of time to sleep. Not that he would sleep for hours.

Winry had made him a bed in the spare room across from hers and he was fully prepared to drift into a dream state. Ascending the stairs he stumbled a few times and he nearly tripped over the rug before laying a hand on the doorknob.

His hand stopped halfway through a turn and he paused for a second to remember in the last possible moment, Winry had switched her room to this one years ago. With his luck she'd be in the middle of changing when the door opened. He could see it now…the full metal alchemist turned to scrap at the hand of a twenty-year-old woman. He let go of the handle and made his way to the room opposite hers.

He made his way into the room and removed his shirt, exposing his bare chest. He glanced down at the auto mail that made up his right arm and let out a sigh. He hated the cold feel of his metal arm against his chest. It was so… wrong. He felt like a machine devoid of feeling, thought and emotion.

"Guess some things never fail to disappoint" he breathed aloud. "But then again."

Searching into the memories of his mind he recalled the image of a howling wolf and transmuted it into a miniature statue with a clap of his hands. "After all these years her auto mail never fails."

He plopped down on the bed and rested his head on his arms. The afternoon sunlight poured into the room and he was never able to sleep with light so he decided to close the curtain before drifting off to a world where the darkness reigned supreme, a world where everyone's nightmares were his dreams.

Most people dreamt of flying, falling, running things of those sorts. Ed hated dreams because he always became a first hand witness to fire and destruction, images of war with Ishbal. He had never been in that war yet the details were clear. He could make out Mustang's face, which was curled into that of a ruthless killer. Yet he saw a spark of life deep in those eyes. To this day Mustang's eyes sparked but he could see that hatred in his eyes. The odd thing was while most men developed a hatred for fellow man, Mustang seemed to adopt a hatred of bloodshed.

He could see innocent children being singed in his mighty blasts of heat and he could feel their pain and their fears as they died. Ed hated the dreams because he felt his skin being scorched and charred. The pain ate away at him like a pack of rabid wolves would. Every night he became acquainted with death and he had figured that this was his punishment for committing treason against the living world. He had tried to steal a dead soul from the world of the dead and harbor it in this world and so he was condemned to witness what he would be going to when he became decrepit and slipped from the living world.

He could see dark acid clouds high above and he could feel the bullets pumping into his chest. True death was only the begging. Not many would be able to handle the torment he endured mentally of this he was sure and of this he was correct. He figured that the reason he saw Roy in his dreams had something to do with their experiences of hell. They had become spirits of the same cause and they had become spirits whose fate was the same. They had tasted pointless bloodshed and understood that the orders of the state were not theirs and that they were just following the orders. They both understood however that even so they had committed murder and they both knew that innocent children had perished because of their own actions. They were in their own eyes worse than the beast himself.

The dreams always ended the same way as well, leading him to a single doorway. Through the pathway a low growl could be heard and mellow red eyes could be seen in the pitch black. The eyes would fade and the darkness would recede exposing a mirror and he stood there watching the child in the mirror, no older than ten, reacting to his every move. He would reach out and his hand would be inches apart from the child and with a force that always startled him bluish flames would engulf the being; engulf him, into a fiery grave.

Every night he awoke gasping because every night he experienced death through the eyes of another person. He let out a heavy sigh wishing his would come soon. His brow was lined and he wiped it off with his forearm. He glanced over at the clock and was upset to find that no less than twenty minutes had passed since he succumbed to his sleep.

He sat up and placed his feet on the floor and winced in pain at the stabbing sensation in his left shoulder and he rested his face in his hands. For all he knew his guest would want gold or diamonds or some jewel or currency and he would be without state immunity to perform such a task. Granted, if he transmuted gold with a state license he would get into trouble but the punishment would be a slap on the wrists compared to what he would face as a civilian.

He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling entranced by its floral design only to be disturbed by a knock on his door. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply he stayed still for a minute or so before arising and softly opening the door and was surprised to see Winry's face inches from his.

"Ed," she spoke softly "Get dressed. I'm taking you for a walk. NOW."

They had remained silent for the entirety of the walk and he disliked it, but he would have felt awkward to be the first to say something. It was just one of those times when words were of no use, considering he knew where she was taking him.

The trees were lightly rustling in the wind and happy birds were preparing to go cuddle up in their nest as the sun began to set, staining the sky with magnificent colors of oranges, reds and pinks. Farmers in the fields hurried to harvest the last crops of the day and they too would settle in for the night leaving the darkness to do its business and cleanse the world for the morning light.

Making their way along the dirt road Ed noticed that the wind had begun to pick up causing mini dust tornadoes and glancing out the corner of his eyes he saw Winry shiver slightly. He took of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

She looked over and the words "thank you." Meekly escaped her lips. She slid her arms into the sleeves and buttoned it up, then proceeded to warm her hands in the pockets. She let her gaze shift to the ground and she let out a soft sigh.

Looking back to the road Ed could make out a familiar patch of land ahead and let out a sigh of his own. He always hated this part of town, and he knew that would never change.

"Feels good," he said aloud, stopping he put his hands on his hips. Smiling he stood there and gazed out over the plot of land. "Best feeling there is."

"What's that?" Winry asked puzzled at his break in proceedings. "What feels good?" She had no idea at all what he meant. They hadn't even arrived at the gravesite and he was smiling. Knowing where they were going he should have been depressed but he seemed happy. He seemed happy in a depressed way. It was then that she realized what he was smiling about. It was then that she realized where they were.

"Just feels good to be home." He laughed. "Just fells good to be home."