A/N: I do not own the copyright to Fullmetal Alchemist.

This story was undeniably influenced by an awesome fic called "And She Became Sin" by theowlinsomniac, which you can find on my favorites list. Though it had been some years since I read it, some of my scenes came out more similar to her story than I had intended. The author generously encouraged me to publish this anyway, for which I'm sincerely grateful. Please go read her terrific story!

Special thanks also go to kendraCs for getting me to stop procrastinating and finish this, and for beta'ing the first draft. Thank you so much!

The artwork was created by the amazingly talented NoVaNoah from deviantART. I can't link to it from here, but I encourage you to go to that site and look at the full-size original, because it's beautiful. Google deviantART, and look up my page under MinervaAe.

Human Sacrifice

"Lieutenant—stay with me!"

Hawkeye struggled to focus on the Colonel's words, struggled to wake up. Where was she? There had been a flash of steel at her neck, a river of blood cascading down her shirt, her own hand trying to press the wound closed as she fell to the floor. They were underground, she recalled numbly, in enemy territory. On the Promised Day.

"Open your eyes, Lieutenant!" The Colonel's voice seemed closer now, fraught with desperation. With a deep breath, Hawkeye forced her eyes open. She found herself lying half on the floor, half cradled in Roy's arms, blood painting the left side of her torso and pooled on the floor below. She lay atop hastily-drawn transmutation circle drawn using more of her blood. But she was no longer bleeding. She had been saved.

"I've done all I can. Leave the rest to a proper doctor!" urged a small high voice. The young Xingese alkahestrist hovered at Roy's elbow only a moment before disappearing. She couldn't have been more than ten years old, but it must have been thanks to her that Hawkeye hadn't bled out. It had been so close. Relief poured out of the Colonel's eyes as he pulled Hawkeye closer, held her tight in an embrace.

Her vision swam through the haze of blood loss. The skirmish seemed to be over, with a dozen of Bradley's men lying dead on the floor around them. Their allies—Scar, the Xingese girl and three human chimeras—were all still alive, keeping a tactful distance from the pair. "I'm sorry, Colonel," Hawkeye mumbled from a tiny smile. She was a soldier; she should be on her feet protecting him, not lying helpless like some wilting damsel, but right now she was grateful for the shelter of his arms.

"Shh, don't talk. Just rest," he smiled tenderly, eyes brimming with emotion. He pressed his cheek against her hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice taut. "Thank you."

Her face relaxed in a smile as she leaned against him and closed her eyes, basking in his unaccustomed nearness. The Promised Day was far from over, but for this small moment they were something akin to safe. Just for this moment they could rest.

"What the—" startled Jelso, the toad-like chimera. "Oh hell. Incoming!" He pointed toward the end of the corridor, where the shadow of man's figure had appeared. Hawkeye felt the ground shift dizzily as Roy jumped to his feet in alarm, lifting her with him protectively. Their moment of peace was already over.

o-o-o-o

No no no, Mustang thought desperately as his eyes registered Bradley's form at the end of the corridor. In a flash the homunculus was barreling toward them—there was no time to think. "Take care of the Lieutenant!" Mustang shouted, pushing Riza into the arms of the nearest chimera as he leapt forward and snapped his gloved fingers, whipping a blast of explosive fire toward Bradley. But the homunculus was inhumanly fast, a blur that darted around the flames and charged straight at Mustang with a sword in each hand. Before the Flame Alchemist could snap again Bradley was upon him, had knocked him flat on his back. Mustang yelled in pain as the blades penetrated his hands, pinning them to the floor. He heard Riza cry his name as he lay gasping.

A curtain of black poured from the ceiling, pooling into the form of a small boy—Pride. Black tentacles shot out from the boy's body and swirled into a large transmutation circle around the fallen alchemist, smaller shadows branching out to grip his wrists and ankles. Mustang jerked futilely at the restraints, gasping as the swords cut deeper into his palms.

"I've got him," the boy barked at Bradley. "Get out of the circle." Mustang tried not to scream as the homunculus yanked the swords from his hands, knowing the pain would be nothing compared to what was to come. Heart pounding, he continued to struggle in vain.

Bradley stood over him impassively, arms folded across his chest. "You're the last one, Flame Alchemist," he taunted. "The fifth human sacrifice. The final key to all our plans." He stepped backward out of the circle, his words punctuated by a crackle of alchemic energy as red lightning began to surge.

"I wonder what will be taken from you."

o-o-o-o

"Colonel!" Hawkeye cried desperately. The sight of Roy in mortal danger had torn away her emotional control. Through shock and lightheadedness she fought to reach him, struggling against the grip of the chimera who was holding onto her arms, holding her back.

"Stop it!" the ape-man cried, huge hands clenching her arms tightly. "You'll get sucked into it too!" He was right. She couldn't hope to stop the incredible forces brewing around them even if she weren't so weakened. But the Colonel was in danger and nothing else, not even her own life, mattered now. With her last reserve of strength she sent an elbow drive against the chimera's solar plexus. He let go with a yelp of surprise as she broke free.

She was running now, vertigo pouring over her sight as she lunged for the circle, consumed with no thought except to push Roy out of the way and get him away from harm, even if it cost her own life. Her foot touched the edge of the circle just as it exploded with a blinding white flash—

o-o-o-o

Hawkeye was aware of blackness first. A tunnel. She wondered how much time had passed, her mind unnaturally calm as she fell through the lightness space.

The darkness was whispering to her. She was an intruder here, a non-alchemist flying through the heart of alchemy itself; yet it spoke to her freely, explaining its mysteries. Her mind began to flicker with glimpses of formulae and equations, recognizable from the lessons her father had tried to teach her as a girl, knowledge she'd only begun to grasp in theory and never in practice. Now it began to take shape in her mind, sliding into place like pieces of a puzzle. Yes—of course. It was all so simple! How had she failed to comprehend it before?

I understand now, she replied calmly to the void. I understand everything.

In the darkness a rectangle of white light appeared in front of her—a doorway. It grew larger in her field of vision until it overtook her completely, the blackness dispelled by dazzling white light, and she became aware that she had stopped moving. The new surroundings barely interested her. All of the secrets of alchemy lay under her command now: she could move mountains, drain oceans, create life or destroy it, and all she need do was reach out and clap her hands. She reached out—

But the secrets were already falling from her mind, the masterpiece collapsing into a pile of disconnected jigsaw parts, comprehension receding tauntingly just beyond her grasp. She was no alchemist; her mind could not hold onto the knowledge.

As the alchemy faded, Hawkeye's artificial sense of calm left with it. Where was she? Had she succeeded in saving the Colonel? What was happening to her? The white space pressed in all around her, dizzying in its intensity. There was nothing around her in any direction as far as she could see, save for a large rectangular object covered with alchemical markings that hovered behind her, with a seam down the center; the doorway she'd arrived through. "Colonel!" she shouted into the void. "Where are you?!" Receiving no answer, she turned back to the door and tried to pry it open.

"He isn't here," said a voice behind her. Hawkeye wheeled around, found herself staring at a shadowy man-shaped creature who hadn't been there a moment before, sitting cross-legged on the white floor.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Where is the Colonel? Is he safe?"

"Safety is a relative concept," the creature replied smoothly. "Your friend suffered no life-threatening injuries during his journey. He has passed through the Gate and returned to your world." She exhaled with something like relief—provided that this strange creature's word could be trusted.

"My name is Truth," he continued. His body was as white as the blank space around them, although he was surrounded by shadows that allowed him to be seen. The exceptions were his right arm and left leg, which appeared to be made of flesh, and a pair of coal-black eyes that were jarringly familiar in a way she couldn't place. A mouth appeared below the eyes, splitting into a toothy smile. "But you should ask the same question of yourself. Have you noticed that you don't have a body?"

"What?" That wasn't possible…she looked down at herself, saw nothing. But she was certain she'd been using her arms a moment ago—she wheeled around in the emptiness, finding no part of herself, beginning to panic. "What is this? What have you done to me?!"

"I have done nothing. The Gate decides what toll to exact from those who pass through it." The infuriating smile remained painted on the creature's face. "A fitting price for the human who sacrificed everything—even her very soul—to follow another. Now your body has returned to your world, but your soul remains here as payment."

Body or not, she felt her breathing quicken as panic took hold in earnest. "Whatever this is, I can't stay here," she explained urgently. "I need to find the Colonel. Tell me how to get back where I belong!" She turned back to the door, trying again in vain to force it open.

Truth was still smiling. "You cannot pass through the Gate again unless you pay another toll." He looked her up and down with his icy black eyes. "And it appears that you have to nothing left to give."

"This can't be happening!" Hawkeye cried in frustration and disbelief. There had to be a way out of here! She scanned her surroundings with new desperation. As before, nothing but white space stretched around her in all directions...or did it? Off in the distance she spied something new, a faint black speck—no, a pair of specks. Her sniper's vision snapped them into focus: a door like the one behind her, with a slight figure sitting cross-legged in front of it. Without hesitation she took off in a run toward it.

o-o-o-o

"…Colonel?" Mustang heard a voice calling faintly through the blackness. Fullmetal's voice. It grew louder, coming from somewhere above him. "Hey, Colonel! Are you OK?!" A hand shook his shoulder. As his senses returned Mustang became aware of a surface beneath him—a floor. He was lying on his stomach. His eyes opened to pitch blackness; wherever they were lacked even a single light. With a groan, he raised himself to his hands and knees, then sat up.

"Fullmetal, what happened? Where are we?" His hands felt the floor around him. Metal, lined with pipes like the rest of Father's complex—they were still underground. An unlit prison cell.

"We're in the big guy's lair. Father, I guess. Al's here too, and a couple of others…"

Mustang squeezed his hands experimentally and grimaced. They hurt like the devil, but at least he could still use them. His gloves were another matter; he could feel that the embroidered flame alchemy arrays were shredded beyond repair. "I can't make flames," he conceded bitterly. "We can't do anything in the dark like this. Can you find a light source?" He struggled to his feet and tried to feel his way forward, arms reaching out for a wall or door, finding none. OK, it was a large cell.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" the teenager exclaimed. "There are lights all…around us…" He trailed off, trepidation creeping into his voice.

Mustang felt a hammering in his chest as the implications of the boy's words began to register. Impossible. The room was dark, it had to be. There couldn't be something wrong with his eyes…

"…Colonel?"

"Fullmetal," he replied, his voice gone quiet with dread. "I can't see." As he continued trying to feel his way forward, his foot caught a pipe and he fell, sprawling on the floor. "No," he cried out as he dragged himself back up to his knees. "No!" Without eyesight he was useless! He wouldn't be able protect anyone like this, not even himself—

"Ah, Father, you've returned," Pride's voice announced smugly from nearby. The homunculus' dark presence hit his remaining senses like a chill, but was quickly eclipsed as darkness a thousand times more powerful glided into the room. Father—the head homunculus. "I've brought you the fifth human sacrifice," Pride continued. "His troublesome flame alchemy has been neutralized."

"Well done, my child," an inhuman voice boomed.

Mustang's heart pounded, his breathing growing ragged as panic overtook him in earnest. He was trapped by the enemy, crippled and powerless. And if they had managed to trap both Elrics too, there was no one left who was powerful enough to come to their rescue. He clasped a gloved hand over his face, sightless eyes staring in disbelief as despair seized him. He was going to die here—soon. And above ground, all of Amestris would surely follow.

Amid the blackness his thoughts flew to his Lieutenant. She was still back in the underground chamber where he'd left her, surrounded by allies—safe, he assured himself. The thought steadied him a little, calmed his breathing. Whatever was about to happen to him, and to the country, at least Riza was safe. She had to be.

o-o-o-o

"Alphonse Elric," Hawkeye gasped at the boy's figure sitting in front of her. He was emaciated, pale, with dark blond hair tumbling over his shoulders and long, untrimmed fingernails—but the resemblance in his golden eyes was unmistakable. He was Edward's brother, of that she was certain.

Or part of him, at any rate. "I'm only his container," the boy replied, his eyes staring vacantly in her direction. Behind him stood a tall door covered in alchemical markings like the one she'd left behind with Truth. "His soul is in the human world."

"But you're talking to me. How is that possible?" she demanded. "You can't be just a body."

The boy's skeletal face slid into the ghastly semblance of a smile. "A tiny piece of his soul remains with me, just enough to give me awareness." The smile quickly faded and the eyes lost focus, as if he lacked the strength to hold onto the emotion. "But I'm really just an empty vessel."

"OK," Hawkeye continued, sifting through the possibilities. "Listen. I'm trapped here because I don't have a body. You're trapped here because you don't have a soul. What if we joined together?" She scanned the boy's face earnestly. "Let me take over your body so we can both go home!" She was talking to herself as much as him, working through the problem. "We can get ourselves sorted out once we get back. Since Edward knows how to soul-bind, I'm sure he can put us back into our own bodies once everything settles down—"

"No! Brother lost his arm binding Alphonse to that armor! I won't ask him to do it again!" Real anger flared in his eyes, but the spark dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. "Besides, binding your soul to my body would take powerful alchemy, and I can't do it without Alphonse," he continued, holding up his thin arms in a gesture of emptiness. "Can you?"

The ghost of alchemic equations still danced at the edges of Hawkeye's mind, but it was like trying to recite the contents of a book after glancing through its pages once. "No," she answered truthfully. "I'm not an alchemist." The boy nodded, silent.

To distract herself from the rising edge of panic, she strode past him and began trying to force open the door that stood behind him. His was no more yielding than her own had been. After several more minutes of fruitless prying she gave up, swinging her fists against its surface with a wordless yell of frustration. Somehow she could still feel her arms moving, feel the unyielding door beneath her non-existent hands; she stopped and stared at the empty space where her outstretched arms should have been, puzzled.

"Sense memory," Truth's voice startled her from behind. She turned and found the creature sitting across from Alphonse's body. Her door had drifted over with him. "What you humans call phantom limb syndrome. Phantom entire body, in your case."

"Shut up," she snapped. At a loss for what else to do, she stepped to her own door and resumed trying to open it.

"It's no use, you know," Truth continued smoothly. "Even if you could find a way back to the human world, it's too late. Your body has already found another occupant."

Hawkeye wheeled around to face Truth. "What did you just say?"

o-o-o-o

"Stay down," Mustang heard a gruff woman's voice, and felt himself pushed to the ground with a decidedly unfeminine amount of force. Izumi Curtis, the Elric's childhood alchemy master. Their father was here too somewhere, a man named Van Hohenheim—together with Mustang and the Elrics, they made up the five "human sacrifices." Who had emphatically decided not to cooperate.

"Like we'd give up that easily!" Fullmetal spat at Father, his words punctuated by a blast of energy. There was a groan of concrete moving and tearing as Mustang felt the floor tremor, quickly joined by echoes from two other directions. He could do little besides stay out of the way as the able-bodied alchemists mounted their attack. Even if his gloves had been intact, without eyesight his flame alchemy would have been deadly to friend and enemy alike, making him worse than useless. Now he crouched on the floor, every muscle taut with fear as lethal levels of transmutation energy crackled and boomed around him, mixed with the shouts of his allies as they coordinated their attacks.

"Brother, to your left!" Al shouted.

"Look out, he can transmute without moving!" Hohenheim's voice countered frantically.

His didn't need his eyes to tell him when the assault failed. "No more time to play," Father intoned. The noises of battle were abruptly choked off, replaced by the sounds of the other four sacrifices struggling and cursing as if they'd been forcibly restrained. Mustang felt a cold presence creep around his own limbs, immobilizing him with tentacles of dark energy that were immune to his desperate thrashing.

"Time to go to work, my precious sacrifices," Father's voice continued smugly.

o-o-o-o

"What do you mean, 'another occupant'?" Hawkeye demanded.

"Let's make it a game, shall we?" Truth declared, the black eyes flickering playfully. "When a soul departs from its body, it's pulled through the Gate." A hand swept in the direction of her door. "It joins every other soul that has ever gone before it. The one becomes all, becomes the universe, becomes God. From your perspective, peaceful oblivion." The smile widened. "But what happens when the thing animating a body isn't a soul? What if it's only part of a soul, cast off from its parent? Where does it go when its container dies?"

Hawkeye gritted her teeth. "I don't have time for games. Just tell me, damn it!" But the creature merely smiled, staring at her expectantly.

"He means a homunculus," Alphonse's body interjected. "The homunculi were born from Father. Each one is a sin he cast out of himself." Truth nodded, looking pleased, then returned his gaze to Hawkeye and waited.

"OK," she sighed. "Then when they're killed...what? Instead of going through the Gate, they go back to where they came from—to Father?"

Truth was smiling smugly. "Very good. Go on."

"But what does that have to do with...my body..." She trailed off as her mind made the connection. No. It couldn't possibly mean—

"A thing that was cast out once can be cast out again, if a suitable container can be found for it," Truth finished. "And a body emptied by the Gate of Truth is a rare and special thing indeed. It would make an excellent vessel."

"You, you're telling me—one of those things is walking around in my body?!" Her revulsion was quickly overwhelmed by fear. There were two dead homunculi, Lust and Envy, and both had ample reason to want revenge against the Colonel. Either one of them could have taken over her body—no, intuition told her it would be Lust. The homunculus would use Hawkeye's form to get close to the Colonel and exact vengeance. She needed to warn him—now.

She turned back to Truth, growing desperate. "You said the Gate decided to take my soul. And a soul separated from its body goes to oblivion, right? But I'm still here. Why?" The creature seemed relatively benign, and he liked games; maybe he would help her if she kept guessing. "What's keeping my soul here?"

His ghostly smile spread into a grin that suddenly seemed very far from benign. "I am," he replied smoothly, the black eyes staring through her. "Foolish human. Did you think I would simply let you tread in my domain for free?"

Horror overtook her as his words sank in. This creature was her enemy after all. It struck her, finally, as she stared at his shadowy form: the flesh arm and leg he wore exactly matched Edward's missing limbs, the ones the boy had lost through human transmutation. The same way Alphonse had lost his body and she had lost her soul. And the eyes…with sickening clarity, she understood now why they had looked so familiar.

Safety is a relative concept, the creature had mocked. Your friend suffered no life-threatening injuries. But Roy hadn't escaped the Gate intact—far from it. Now he was blind and defenseless while a deadly monster that wore her own form was stalking him, without her there to protect him—

With a cry of rage, Hawkeye lunged at Truth. But she had no physical form to attack him with, and without moving the creature simply slipped out of her reach, over and over, his laughter ringing in her nonexistent ears.

o-o-o-o

In the blackness, Mustang gasped as the bonds of energy squeezed around him. It was growing difficult even to draw a full breath, much less to move his limbs, to fight back, though he tried. They all tried. From across the room he heard shouts and cries from the others, heard Edward yell a hoarse obscenity that ended in a wheeze.

Father seemed to be enjoying himself. "Have any of you considered that this planet is a single lifeform?" he lectured, the voice malevolent with an undertone of glee. The hum of alchemic energy began to rise from the center of the room. "A system that possesses a vast amount of information about the universe. Far beyond the ability of a mere human mind to process." The words were punctuated by a blast above their heads.

The last of Mustang's struggling was cut short as another dark surge of energy took hold of him, this one emanating from inside his chest and stomach. It felt the same as when he'd passed through the human transmutation circle, only much more intense—and continued to build, so violent and painful that he feared he would literally burst. He clenched his teeth and grunted against the pain.

"Do you realize how much power could be obtained by possessing that information?" the creature continued as the thrum of energy grew into a roar. "And that is what I am going to use you for, my sacrifices. With your help, I am going to absorb the people of this nation, converting them to energy that will open this world's Gate!"

Mustang cried out in pain and rage, heard his friends do the same from scattered points across the room. Incredibly, over the din he could hear an unknown woman's laughter. "Magnificent, Father!" she called out in delight. The agony was playing with his mind, making him think he heard Riza's voice.

But the guttural roar continued to build until it drowned out everything except Father. "What incredible energy! I can barely contain it!" the creature thundered. "And with this energy, I will absorb God!" Mustang heard himself scream as the final surge took him, tearing his body wide open. In another moment he mercifully blacked out.

o-o-o-o

Time had passed, although Hawkeye had no way of telling how much. She had given up her pointless assault on Truth, and in frustration and hopelessness she had simply run, far enough away that the creature and Alphonse's body had become distant specks at the edge of her vision. Now in her mind's eye she sat crumpled on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees and head hanging in despair; what those perceptions translated to in actual fact, she was beyond caring. She had already exhausted every possibility for escape she could think of, though her mind still worked frantically to find something, anything she'd missed.

She'd known her respite from the others would be brief, and already the space between them was contracting, their forms growing steadily larger in her field of vision. Before long they were both seated before her again. She didn't bother looking up at them.

"You left at such an inopportune time," Truth pouted. "A great show is about to begin. In all of space and time, something is happening that has never happened before." She raised her head and aimed a glare in his direction. He was grinning even wider than before. "A vast, dark power is rising from the human world," he continued cheerfully. "And even I don't know what will happen now."

As the creature spoke, a seam appeared in the white space above his head, accompanied by a faint hum of alchemical energy that grew steadily louder. Hawkeye and the boy stared in astonishment as the space to either side of the seam swung back like two sides of a giant door. The hum swelled into a thundering roar, and through the dark new opening they gazed upon…

Something unknown, and unnamable. Peering up at them through the opening was another creature of some kind, vaguely man-shaped but immense, as pitch black as Truth was blindingly white, a single massive eyeball perched over a huge gaping mouth. Far below them the creature's feet rested on an enormous sphere, luminous in blue and green; it was surrounded by a black void studded with faint white lights—stars. Hawkeye knew without being told that the sphere was her world, the human world, floating in space. Awestruck, she had no words to describe the vastness she looked upon, could not reconcile the scale of what she was seeing.

She did not have long to contemplate it. The huge creature stretched its impossibly long arms through the door into Truth's domain. Truth never broke his grin, never even looked backwards as the arms encircled him, took hold and yanked him out into the black void. The giant door swung shut behind him, the roar faded, and the whiteness sealed over as if the opening had never been there.

Silence settled over them. Hawkeye turned to Alphonse's body, the boy blinking at her in placid confusion. They were all alone in the white space now. "What..." she began, not even sure what question to ask. But before she could continue, she heard another door swing open behind her.

Her door. Her head snapped toward it just as she remembered Truth's words:

"What's keeping me here?"

"I am."

And now Truth was gone. Oblivion was free to claim her.

Numerous slender black arms reached out from the dark space beyond the door, grabbed her and began to drag her toward them, heedless of her struggling. She saw the boy's eyes, sad and pleading as he futilely tried to grab hold and pull her back, while her own nonexistent hands fought to reach back to him. But the shadow arms dragged her in, the boy's mouth shaping into a silent No! whose sound never reached her as the door slammed shut.

As Hawkeye was pulled down the tunnel into darkness, she once again heard the whispers of alchemy, saw its secrets spill out before her. Once more, she understood them all. She could only grieve that they would do her no good now.

o-o-o-o

Mustang awoke to blackness and terrifying silence. At least the unbearable pain had stopped. Only his wounded hands still throbbed; he blindly ran them over the rest of his body, found it intact. He struggled to his feet slowly, all but drained of energy. "Is everyone all right?!" he called into the darkness. "What happened?"

"Well done, my sacrifices," Father's booming voice announced smugly. "With your help, I have absorbed all the souls of the people of this nation and captured God within me!"

There was a moment of awful silence, followed by gasps and curses from the other sacrifices as the meaning of his words sank in. "All the souls…you can't mean—!" Alphonse exclaimed.

"You bastard!" Edward shrieked.

"There were fifty million people in this country, you monster!" Mustang shouted, trembling with rage.

He heard muttered curses from Izumi, moving toward him. "Come on," she ordered, gripping his arm and guiding him across the room to where the others were gathered.

Mustang complied numbly. They had lost, they had failed, and now there was nothing—

"You won't win," Hohenheim was snarling at Father. "Do you feel it? That slow, steady heartbeat that's been building this whole time?"

"Even now, you still imagine you can stop me?" the creature thundered smugly.

Hohenheim was undeterred. "That's why I'm here, old friend! The moment you absorbed your so-called 'god' was the exact moment our counter-attack began!"

Incredibly, the creature's voice gave up a gasp. It was followed by an inhuman grunt of pain. "Hohenheim! What have you—!" it demanded.

"Get down!" Alphonse shouted, and Mustang felt armored hands yank him to the ground. A powerful roar of transmutation shook the room as Father bellowed in agony.

It took a few moments for the ringing in his ears to fade. "It worked! He's lost control of the souls!" he made out Hohenheim laughing maniacally. Mustang felt himself grin in relief—they weren't beaten yet! There was still a chance!

The room was filled with shouting and the sounds of secondary explosions. "He's headed for the surface! After him!" Al shouted.

"You guys go on ahead—I'll take care of Pride," Edward yelled, his voice dwindling as he took off in pursuit of the homunculus.

Izumi's voice was still at Mustang's side. "We need to get you somewhere safe first," she barked.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, frustrated beyond words. Damn this blindness! "For me to be so useless at a time like this—"

"Roy Mustang!"

His sightless eyes snapped toward the voice. This time it wasn't his imagination—it was Riza. "Lieutenant! Where are you?" he replied frantically.

"Right here." She was beside him now, her hands taking hold of his, gently caressing them through his tattered gloves. "It's all right. I'm here now."

"OK, we'll leave him to you," came Izumi's voice, already hurrying away. "Al, Hohenheim, let's go!"

Flooded with relief, Mustang squeezed Riza's hands. "Lieutenant, please tell me you're all right!"

"I'm fine, Roy." Her hands moved to his face. "You're not injured, are you? Besides your eyes?"

He shook his head. "Just my hands, but I can still use them. How badly are you hurt? Can you still fight?" If she could serve as his eyes, if he could use his flame alchemy, he could still make a difference—

"No. Leave the fighting to the others." Her voice was oddly smooth, almost crooning, her hands gently stroking his cheeks. "Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of you," she murmured, slowly drawing a finger over his lips.

He jerked back from her touch. Something was wrong—this was not like Riza at all. And she'd barely been able to stand the last time he'd seen her. "Is something the matter?" she asked, her voice taking on a faint pout.

"You seem a lot different from the last time I saw you, Lieutenant." Swallowing, he reached out, his hand feeling her neck. The left side should have had a large, fresh scar, yet there was nothing there but smooth uninjured skin. Heart hammering, he backed away from her. "You're not the real Lieutenant," he growled. "What are you? A new Envy?"

He heard a sigh. "Really, Roy darling?" Her voice took on a seductive purr that was terrifyingly familiar. "You've forgotten me so soon? But we were so intimate when you were burning me to ashes."

The blood drained from his face. "Lust!" he exclaimed in horror. "But how? You can't be here, I killed you—"

She laughed. "How little you understand, human! I wasn't dead. I was simply waiting to be reborn." He could hear the satisfaction in her voice. "All that was required was a suitable container."

His breath caught in his throat. He had assumed that, like Envy, she had merely made herself into a copy of Riza. But container? She couldn't mean…

"Lust," he snarled. "Where is my Lieutenant?!" He was blind and weaponless, but if this creature had harmed Riza he swore he would tear her apart with his bare hands.

Her response was a peal of laughter. "Such a pity. I was so looking forward to making love to you in this body before I killed you. Now I suppose I'll have to find another way to amuse myself." There was sudden agonizing pain as something sharp tore through his stomach, and he cried out in the darkness as he doubled over.

o-o-o-o

"FIRE AT WILL!" a loudspeaker broadcast through the Central Command courtyard. "WEAR HIM DOWN! DON'T GIVE HIM A CHANCE TO ATTACK!" The shining blond creature known as Father levitated in the middle of the Central Command courtyard hurling blasts of energy at anyone who came his way, while every Amestrian soldier still alive and able to fire a weapon massed around him, unloading every piece of ordnance they could find at the creature. As the soldiers paused to reload, they were quickly reinforced by a succession of former human sacrifices, chimeras, Xingese warriors and other allies.

Edward, fresh from victory over Pride, launched himself at Father in a martial arts attack. Father discharged a blast of energy that sent the boy flying, but not before Edward managed to land a vicious kick to Father's arm. The boy landed hard on the ground, his automail arm shattered by the blast.

But Father was staring at his own wounded arm, now pulsing with streams of red energy and seeping black tendrils. Both increased in intensity and began to spread to his whole body. The creature fell to his knees, reeling as if suffering a seizure.

"He's losing it!" shouted Hohenheim. "He can't keep his 'god' suppressed any longer!"

Convulsing on the ground, Father gave a furious roar as an enormous blast of energy was expelled from his body, the force of it sending half the courtyard's occupants flying while knocking the other half to the ground. A brilliant white mass, so bright that the human observers could not look directly at it, quickly shot upwards, streaked into the sky and disappeared.

God was free.

Surely Father had been defeated...but as the soldiers, alchemists and others slowly peeled themselves off the ground, they saw in horror that their enemy had done the same. Father began to walk, unsteadily at first and then with more conviction, towards the nearest person pinned by debris. "Need...energy. Human...give me...your soul," the creature growled.

Throughout the courtyard, the exhausted humans jumped to their feet and grabbed their weapons. God might be free, but the enemy wasn't defeated yet.

o-o-o-o

Clap your hands. The impulse came to Mustang unbidden—but of course. However unwillingly, he had passed through the Gate of Truth, and in return for his eyesight it had given up some of its secrets. Grunting in pain as Lust's fingernails skewered his right thigh, struggling to keep his balance, he slammed his palms together and shot a wall of flame in her direction.

"Not fast enough, Flame Alchemist!" Riza's voice taunted from behind him. Damn these homunculi and their inhuman speed! He clapped again, then cried out in agony as both his wrists were skewered at once, pinioned together by her deadly spear. "Now, now," she chided. "You don't really want to burn this lovely body, do you? You seem so fond of it."

His response was another blast of flame, sufficient at least to separate Lust from the fingernail lancing his wrists, turning it to ash and freeing his hands. Her regeneration would keep Riza's body safe for now; what he needed was a way to eject the homunculus without causing permanent damage. But his own injuries went deep—he could barely feel his hands now, barely even stand. He cried out in alarm as something grabbed his left ankle and yanked the leg out from under him, spilling him onto his back.

"I'm getting bored with this game," Lust pouted from above. "You're not putting up much of a fight." She was suddenly very close, hovering on hands and knees over him, nearly but not quite touching. "Maybe I'll have my way with you after all," she purred, "if you manage to live long enough."

Mustang shuddered. Whatever else she did to him, imminent death was no idle taunt; his body was already growing cold and numb from blood loss. He wouldn't last much longer. "What have you done with Riza?!" he demanded once more, panting from exhaustion and pain. Unable to clap with her body blocking his way, he ran his limp hands along the floor to either side of him, feeling desperately for anything he could use as a weapon.

"Oh very well, I suppose I can give you that much," Lust sighed indulgently. A fingernail traced lazy circles on his chest, prickling his skin. "Your precious woman followed you through the human transmutation circle, did you know that?"

Mustang gasped. No. Riza couldn't have—

"Mmm, it was a very sweet gesture," Lust continued. "Incredibly stupid, but sweet. The Gate took her soul as payment, and now the poor thing's trapped there. That left this pretty little body with no one inside, so Father gave it to me." She lowered her lips down to Mustang's ear and added in a murmur, "I do wish you could see me in it."

On the floor, his right hand had closed around a sharp, thin piece of metal debris. His heart pounded desperately; he would only have one chance. With the last of his strength he shoved the makeshift blade upwards in between their bodies, thrusting it into the space between her breasts where he knew her Philosopher's Stone lay—

"Really?" Lust sighed in amusement. He had barely mustered enough force to pierce her shirt. She didn't even bother stopping him as he scratched at her skin, blindly and feebly. "That's all you've got left, Flame Alchemist? It's pointless, you know. My regeneration will heal that in less than a second."

He dropped the metal shard and slapped his hand against her chest. "Got you!" he exclaimed weakly.

Now it was Lust's turn to cry out in pain and astonishment. "Human—what have you DONE?!" she shrieked as she reared up and away from him. A crackle of transmutation energy, growing steadily louder, emanated from her chest.

"Soul-binding circle," he managed to whisper through a grin as his alchemy engulfed her. A heartbeat later he abruptly fell still.

o-o-o-o

Hawkeye was dying, dissipating into the alchemy that flowed around and through her as she flew in the darkness. She was calm again. It's all right, she thought peacefully. My life was a futile struggle. The world will go on without me. She felt a last pang as she thought of Roy, but in a few moments even that was gone, lost to the eternal rhythms of life and death. I'm ready, she told the void, accepting. The tunnel lit up around her as her momentum ceased...

But oblivion's embrace never came. The light continued to brighten around her until it formed into familiar white space, broken up only by the dark rectangle of her door beside her—she was back in Truth's domain. Somehow she was still alive.

Without surprise, she turned to face the creature who smiled up at her from the floor. He was alone, and looked different; he still wore Edward's leg and Roy's eyes, but the flesh arm was gone, and in his shadowy right hand he held an opaque red lump about the size of a large apple. A heart, she realized with a jolt. He was holding a human heart.

"Looks like you're going home after all," Truth grinned. "Someone else paid your toll for you. Equivalent exchange."

"What do you mea—wait!" she cried out, but slender black arms were already yanking her back through her door. She glimpsed Truth, still grinning, slip the heart into his chest as her view of him disappeared.

o-o-o-o

Returning to her body was a hard shock, like slamming into a brick wall. For several seconds Hawkeye simply lay on the floor, her mind still overwhelmed with alchemy as she processed the sensation of a solid floor beneath her, of walls around her. She struggled to focus: the surfaces were metal and lined with pipes, meaning she was still underground. From the center of her chest came a warm pulsing sensation. A soul-binding circle, she recognized in wonder, prompting new streams of transmutation formulae to invade her thoughts. Pushing them aside, she sat up and registered the ominous sight of blood pooled all around her on the floor, and on her hands. Her heart beat quickly as her eyes followed the trail of blood, looking for its source…

But she found she couldn't turn her head, her body abruptly frozen in place. "No!" she was shocked to hear her own voice cry out. Her heart pounded faster as she felt her hands move on their own, fingers trying to tear at the glowing circle between her breasts. "It's mine! You can't have it back!" the voice shrieked. She was back in her body, but with no control over it—the homunculus was still inside her.

Rage overtook her. YOU GODDAMNED BITCH! Hawkeye screamed silently, struggling to take back control. She poured all of her strength into fighting the inner presence. I WON'T LET YOU HAVE—

"—MY BODY!" she finished shouting in her own voice. Her whole form shaking as she pushed back against Lust's resistance, she forced her hands away from the soul-binding circle and clenched her fists. "GET—OUT—OF ME—NOW!" she roared.

With a last ferocious push, Lust's resistance broke. Hawkeye fell to hands and knees and convulsed, her entire body heaving as the soul-binding circle glowed and burned in her chest like a brand. With a final spasm she expelled a glowing red stone from her mouth, felt the homunculus' presence leave her body. Hawkeye panted in relief as she stared down at the stone. The Philosopher's Stone was all that had bound Lust to her body, and now its brilliant light was guttering like a snuffed candle, the lifeforce within it ebbing away. Lust would threaten her no more.

Still on hands and knees, Hawkeye blinked at the floor, trying to get her bearings, her head still surging with alchemical equations. For a moment she squeezed her eyes shut and rocked herself slightly, struggling to regain her grip on reality. When she opened her eyes again she was calmer, able to focus on her surroundings. There was still blood everywhere around her.

It was with dread but not surprise that she turned and found Roy's body. He was covered in streaming stab wounds, and though none of them were in vital areas, he lay utterly still. She already knew that she wouldn't find a heartbeat. Someone else paid your toll for you, Truth had mocked. Equivalent exchange. A wordless scream formed in her mind—Roy had done this for her, sacrificed his own heart to save her life.

Before she fully realized what she was doing, she had picked up the dying Philosopher's Stone. Memories of the Gate still whispered in her head. For the few precious moments before they faded, all the secrets of alchemy still lay under her command: she could move mountains, drain oceans, create life or destroy it. She reached out and clapped her hands—

o-o-o-o

Thud. The first thing Mustang felt was a heartbeat, a hammering shudder in the center of his chest where there had been only stillness. The next was an involuntary gasp of breath. He was alive. He was alive. Still blind and too weak to move, he lay unmoving and concentrated all his energy on continuing to breathe. Alchemy was coursing through him, he felt now, tendrils of energy snaking through his veins, reviving and restoring him. The throbbing pain in his stomach, thigh and hands dimmed and disappeared. His blood began to pump more strongly, his energy gradually beginning to return. At last even the shroud of darkness over his eyes began to lift. The blackness lightened to gray, which resolved itself into a distant metal ceiling lined with pipes—he could see.

Still disoriented, he turned his head toward the source of the alchemy. His blurred vision resolved into a familiar pale white face, with blonde hair and amber-brown eyes now closed in concentration. The most beautiful face in the universe—and an impossible sight. Riza knelt on the floor beside him, not only alive, but with her clasped hands holding a flickering red stone over the center of his chest, beads of perspiration dotting her forehead as she whispered words he could just make out as transmutation formulae. Riza was performing the alchemy that had just saved his life. Struggling to summon breath, he weakly called her name.

Her eyes snapped open and she stared at him hazily, as if from very far away. Her whispering ceased, and he felt the tendrils of energy within him dissipate, their purpose accomplished. "Roy," she murmured softly, her lips curving into a small smile. Then her eyes drifted closed again as her body went limp.

Panicked, he caught her as she fell, easing her down to the floor against him. "Riza," he called to her anxiously. "Tell me you're OK." The red stone in her hand had gone dark, and now it crumbled into dust that slipped through her fingers. "Riza!" he cried, shaking her.

"Mmm," she mumbled, her face pressed against his shoulder. "Just…tired. Alchemy. Hard work. You're…OK?"

He exhaled deeply. "Yes," he grinned. "I'm fantastic." Relief was too tepid a word to describe what he felt as he locked his arms around her and pressed his cheek against her forehead, eyes squeezed shut with emotion. She had almost died twice today, sacrificing herself for his sake. That she lay alive in his arms was salvation itself. Never mind that she had—somehow—literally dragged him back from oblivion too. "And you…are a miracle," he murmured into her hair.

Riza gave a drowsy groan and opened her eyes. "Idiot," she mumbled affectionately, a hand reaching up to touch his cheek. He took her hand in his and gripped it tenderly, pressed his lips to her palm. They lay like that, drained to the point of exhaustion, as the sound of distant explosions echoed faintly from the courtyard above them. "The battle," Riza continued weakly. She struggled to sit up, managing only to prop herself on an elbow. "Is it still—?"

Above their heads a final explosion sounded, much louder and longer than any before it. When it stopped, only silence followed. The pair held their breath, until after a few moments they heard a tentative cheer begin to ripple through the unseen crowd, growing into loud and decisive exultation. Unmistakably happy, human sounds.

"I'd say we just won," Roy laughed.

Hovering above him, Riza grinned, her eyes meeting his. She sank back down, this time directly into his arms, as they shared a passionate kiss of relief and victory.