Now, there is a great deal which can be said about Chris Leon. He had been a member of the Alchemist's Army—though he was one of the bureaucrats, not a warrior—ever since the day his family was slaughtered by a Homunculus, when he was fifteen years old. He was, by any measure, a traditionalist, and it brought him some measure of peace, if not outright pleasure, to aid in the destruction of those who were monsters in a humanoid body.

He was still a young man, but he had seen far too much violence in his life. And, if had retained his vast hatred of the Homunculi, even after their exile to the moon, well that was understandable.

In short, Leon was a man with which it is easy to sympathize. Which is unfortunate, because he is also the antagonist of these next events.


Chris Leon was not entirely uninvolved when evidence from the AA headquarters, relating to Homunculi, was leaked to all major news companies. This is confirmed with the fact that Leon next turned his sights on Papillon, and then proceeded to take an entire press conference hostage so he could show them the monster that lived amongst them.

It had been a promotional speech by the city's famous butterfly-man, when it began. Among the attendees was one Mike Ellis, an up-and-coming reporter for The Daily News, a local paper.

Now Mike wasn't entirely pleased to be covering what was, more or less, a publicity stunt by the local vigilante. Sure, he'd liked superheroes as a kid, but the butterfly man was one of the least badass personas he'd ever seen.

And it's not exactly like 'Papillon' was breaking news, either. He'd been on the radar long enough that there was no merit in finding a story in anything he did. Instead, it was merely a menial chore assigned to those reporters who were either less than creative, or who were having a hard time finding a story to publish.

Three guesses on which one Mike was.


And so, he sat near the front of the assembled press, doodling ugly caricatures of his boss on his notepad (who had assigned Andrews, of all people, to do some investigation on these so-called 'Homunculuses,' for what would likely be the big story of the week, while Ellis had been assigned to do busywork. So, Mike's boss deserved the unflattering drawings, according to the artist's judgment). Mike spared his surroundings no more than a cursory glance: Papillon, the pink-butterfly-masked, black-leotard-wearing superhuman was chatting with his business sponsor, and not doing anything particularly interesting.

He didn't have to wait long before something happened. Things ceased to be normal, when a young man took the mic and began to preach vehemently against one of the speakers.

Mike perked up when he heard the ranting start. Having a ceremony of any sort interrupted by an irate bystander would almost certainly be a more interesting story than the one he'd resigned himself to writing.

Flipping to a new page in his notebook, Leon took in details about the man. He was young, mid twenties. Asian. Rather tall, though not six feet. After jotting down those few details and having his camera at the ready, Mike devoted himself to listening, making sure he had his tape recorder on.

"The 'Butterfly Man', as you call him," said Leon, glaring at Papillon, "is neither a hero nor a fairy. That thing is not even human."

"We already knew he couldn't be human," said one of the reporters from Channel Five News, who was slightly nervous, but largely unconcerned. "But, whatever he is, he's not doing any harm. Quite the opposite, in fact. He's saved thousands of lives and done wonders for local businesses."

"That's all just a front," insisted the Alchemist. "This creature is a monster who didn't hesitate to kill countless innocents. Once, he was Koshaku Chounou. Now, he's a Homunculus: a monster that feeds on human flesh! One of those abominations killed my family, and you're no different."

He leveled an accusing finger at Papillon.

"Do you dare deny it?" he asked, chest heaving.

Papillon was entirely placid. "Of course not," he said. "Only fools and heroes attempt to deny their own nature: I am neither."

A flurry of worried whispering broke out amongst the press. Leon's information leak had ensured they had all heard of the Homunculi and the harm they'd done. Though, there hadn't been any tangible demonstration of power yet, so most of them didn't actually believe Papillon was really a Homunculus.

Mike grinned. Whether it was true or not, this was gold. Suck on that, Andrews.

"And you're a monster who killed his own family!" continued Leon.

"My human father and brother?" asked the man in the butterfly mask, still completely calm. "Well, I suppose it can't be denied that these two hands killed them. But aren't you concerned with the other forty-one other human lives I've taken? Or at least with the twenty-two that this body has devoured?"

"So you admit to it? You admit you're a cannibal?"

"I do wish you'd make up your mind," said Papillon. "Am I a human or aren't I? If I'm not human, then eating people isn't cannibalism. I once fought with a human who ate the flesh of Homunculi after he killed them. You wouldn't call him a cannibal, would you? Though, I suppose I did eat Homunculus flesh once. Nasty stuff, but that would qualify me for cannibalism— "

"You admit you're a monster who's eaten forty-three humans?" Leon pressed.

"No. Twenty-one of them I murdered while I was still human. I only ate the twenty-two of them that I killed after I'd undergone metamorphosis, and that was mostly for the taste of vengeance. Vengeance and disposal of evidence. Human flesh doesn't particularly appeal to my palate... though, my father and brother were among those twenty-two, so I suppose you might be more horrified because of the familial relationship?"

"I intend to kill you right here and now for your crimes!" said Leon.

"Oh, really?" asked Papillon. "Well, it's been ages since I had a good fight. But wouldn't a human such as yourself want to avoid involving innocent bystanders? If you challenge me here, I doubt even the building would survive."

"You're just trying to stall for time so you can trick me. No, monster. We fight here and now. I will have my revenge!"

Papillon sighed. "Such a bother. Well then," he said, addressing the press. "The authorities have doubtless heard of my 'outing' as a Homunculus by now, and it will be a good twenty minutes before they can get anyone down here. Until that time, please bear with us."

"There's an authority for dealing with this kind of thing?" asked Mike.

"Yes, the Alchemists Army," replied the Homunculus. "Though, they've been officially dissolved for a few years now, they're the world's leading experts on Homunculus extermination. Young Leon here appears to be a renegade member, otherwise he wouldn't know what I was."

"These authorities know about you?" asked Mike.

"They do," confirmed Papillon.

"And they haven't killed you yet?"

"I am very intelligent," Papillon told him. "That was true even when I was human. They leave me be, because there are certain technical feats that Alchemists cannot perform using their own brainpower. Well... at least not without cloning their own brain a few dozen times and networking them like so many computers."

"Please tell me you're joking," asked the reporter, looking nauseous.

"Sorry," said the Homunculus, giving a shrug. "Alchemy is many things, but it is neither moral nor clean."

Then, Papillon turned to his opponent.

"Since you seem to know so much about me, I assume you came prepared?"

A gray hexagon flashed. "Busou Renkin!" said the hunter.

Papillon raised an eyebrow. "Really? You're not even a warrior. Do you even know how to use that thing?"

"Shut up, monster, I'm out to kill you and all your kind that stain this earth."

"So, just me then," Papillon nodded.

"Sir," said one of the security officers, who had finally arrived and was addressing Leon. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave—"

Leon's eyes flashed, and suddenly the man was on the floor, bleeding from a stab wound in his stomach. The people began to panic, and the other security guards yelling for someone to call an ambulance, already moving to do so, themselves.

"No one leaves this room unless I say so," said Leon. "The next to oppose me shall end up like this one."

With that, Papillon, whom no one was entirely sure what to think of now, stood and walked over to the wounded man.

All eyes, even Leon's, followed his progress, as though transfixed. The butterfly-man knelt down and surveyed the wounded man, interestedly. Was the smell of fresh blood too much for this man-eating monster? The assembled humans held their breaths.

Then, his wings dissolved and a hexagon appeared in his hand. This was placed on the chest of the bleeding man. Immediately, the flow of blood slowed.

Papillon turned to the man's still conscious colleagues. "I'll be wanting that back, later," he told them.

They could only nod.

Then, Papillon stood and faced his enemy.

"You know," he said, pleasantly, "you may have just killed a man."

"History will thank me," he said, "for showing them what kind of monsters live amongst them."

"Look," said Papillon, dodging a blow. "I appreciate the effort and all, but you're about three years too late. Do you know why the AA disbanded? It's because there aren't any Homunculi left on Earth."

"You're still here."

Papillon raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you dare look at me like you're better than I am," said Leon, "You're nothing but a filthy Homunculus, and yet, you think to think you can win them over with such a pathetic gesture? You eat humans for pleasure; you think saving one of them absolves you of this?"

"I seek no one's absolution," replied Papillon simply. "I am beyond humanity."

"Monster," said Leon, "you're no different than the thing that murdered my parents. I'm going to enjoy killing you."

Then, Leon attacked in earnest.

Though, attempting to use a Kakugane, when he had little-to-no combat experience did seem to be a rather poor choice on Leon's part as, after five minutes, he'd exhausted himself completely, while only managing to moderately wound Papillon. The man with the butterfly-mask then took out his opponent with one solid blow to the chest. Mike managed to get some very dramatic pictures of the fight, for which he was glad. Most of the other reporters had fled, so his pictures would likely be exclusive.

The people who weren't danger-junkie reporters, however, were staring at the victor of the fight in fear and shock.

Papillon, ignoring them, gathered up his enemy's Kakugane, and swapped it out for his beloved Near Death Happiness on the injured guard's chest, regaining his wings.

However, at that moment, three alchemist warriors burst into the room and saw a Homunculus crouching over an injured human.

He just barely managed to dodge a fatal blow.

"Koshaku Chouno," said Captain Bravo. "Have you decided to finally start acting like a Homunculus, then?"

"I am Papillon," insisted the leotarded man, "only one person may call me by my human name, and that person is not you."

"We should have brought Kazuki," sighed the leader. "He's the only one who can deal with this lunatic." He shook his head. "We allowed you to stay on Earth on the condition that you not eat humans. Are so eager to join your comrades on the moon?"

"Really, Captain," said Papillon, flitting over the the window, "you should know better than to make threats on which you can't follow through."

Then, he was gone

"You know," mused Captain Bravo, once he had left, "I never would have thought it was possible, but I really do hate butterflies."


Then, Bravo was forced to answer questions about Papillon.

"You let a Homunculus stay on Earth?" asked one of the reporters, who had swarmed on the three alchemists after the butterfly man's departure.

"Even by Homunculus standards, Papillon is insane," said Bravo.

"How so?" asked another.

"We've tracked his case since the very beginning. He was a child prodigy with a terminal illness. He thought becoming a Homunculus would be his route to immortality. He killed twenty-one people during his experiments on turning humans into Homunculi, while he was still human himself.

"Once he performed the Homunculus transformation, he killed and devoured his entire household of twenty-two people, including his own father and brother, all while wearing nothing but a thong. I had nightmares for weeks after seeing the tapes. They were never released to the public, of course..."

"So, he'd killed forty-three people before he'd been a Homunculus for a week?" asked Mike.

"And eaten twenty-two of them," completed Captain Bravo.

"I fail to see how he's different from any other monster out there," continued the Daily News reporter. "Why do you grant him such leniency? If he's been a Homunculus for several years, his death count must be in the thousands by now."

"Actually, no. It's still forty-three."

"How is that possible?" he asked, recalling what he'd heard of Andrews' assignment. "Don't Homunculi eat humans to survive?"

"No," said Bravo, "they eat humans because they want to. We theorize it's because they miss being human and long for what they can no longer be. Personally, I think turning someone into a Homunculus causes their personality to take a one-eighty degree flip. Perfectly normal people become bloodthirsty monsters... and bloodthirsty monsters become ordinary people."

"But forty-three deaths," pointed out Mike. "That's enough to warrant the death sentence."

"Yes," admitted Bravo, "it is, if committed by a human. And all those murders were committed by a human... and the human Koshaku is dead."

"What do you mean by that?" Mike wanted to know.

"I won't go into details, but the creation of a Homunculus always involves the death of a human. Koshaku Chouno knew that even if his body survived, the human he once was would die in the process, and the newborn Homunculus would take possession of his body and his memories."

"That's disgusting..." the reporter allowed, "but the last twenty-two murders were committed after the transformation, didn't you say?"

"That's true," said the alchemist. "However, after the transformation it takes a few hours for the Homunculus to take control over the human body and kill the human. During this period, the human has control over the body, but access to the superior strength and enhanced powers of the Homunculus. The murder and devouring of the Koshaku household wasn't the first act of Papillon, the Homunculus, it was the final act of Koshaku Chouno, the human. It would be no different than if Chouno had taken a slow-acting poison and then gone on a shooting spree in his old household. The only difference is that, when he finally died, Papillon gained Chouno's body as his own."

Things were getting more interesting by the minute. "So, the Homunculus," began Mike, then he corrected himself, changing to, "Papillon?"

"He has Chouno's memories," said the man who wore silver, "but he's never killed a human. Quite the opposite in fact, he seems fond of us. Considering what every other member of his species is like... can you blame us for thinking him insane?"

There was silence for a moment.

"It looks as though we may have to deal with him now, though," said Bravo. "Did you see him almost eat that human there?"

There was a great outcry amongst the fallen guard's comrades, and Mike walked away, rubbing his hands together like a villain in a vaudeville musical. The journalism profession wasn't a fair one. So much relied on luck, and intuition, and being in the right place at the right time. And Mike had just hit the metaphorical jackpot. A story like this could make his career...


And two miles away, a figure which was not human landed on the spire of a skyscraper and paused for a moment, to survey his kingdom.

It was difficult to say how this newest revelation would play out, amongst his fans and enemies, but, then again, what happened was of very little consequence, to a mind of sufficient ingenuity. A favorable reception by the public would offer the opportunity to sell the movie-rights to his story, write an autobiography, and expand his merchandising options.

An unfavorable one would most likely cause the number of his fangirls to skyrocket, and give him the aura of a dark hero, who was working to atone for the sins of his past.

Either way, he'd enjoy the challenges that arose from this newest twist of fate, because he was Papillon, the undying butterfly, and he enjoyed being so.

With one last benign smile on the people below, the Homunculus took flight and headed for home, thinking that it was a fine day to be alive.