Per me si va ne la città dolente,
per me si va ne l'etterno dolore,
per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore:
fecemi la divina podestate,
la somma sapienza e 'l primo amore.
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create
se non etterne, e io etterno duro.

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate!

-------------

Roy Mustang stood quietly at the opening of the alleyway, watching his subordinate's erratic actions. The hollow echo of hands clapping together, slapping themselves against the blood splattered brick wall.

A hollow echo, a frustrated grunt.

Small hands trying to form the figures of the little girl and dog that should have still been alive; trying to pull life from the dark imprint of fur, blood, and grey matter on the alley's end.

A hollow echo, a panicked cry.

Twelve year old hands that already knew it was far too late for anything to make a difference, rhythmically pounding into the wall, hoping against reason that there was some way, anyway, that they could fix this.

A hollow echo, a desperate plea.

Roy didn't know if he should feel utterly forlorn or relieved that Ed had already gotten his first taste of what being a military dog was really like.

A hollow echo, a hysterical sob.

Roy's heart clenched as the utterly hopeless sounds that were coming from Ed's mouth struck through the air almost louder then the pounding rain.

A hollow echo, a defeated groan.

Roy wondered if this young child forced into adulthood already regretted taking his first steps into hell.

------------------

Through me is the way into the woeful city;

Through me is the way into eternal woe;

Through me is the way among the lost people.

Justice moved my lofty maker:

the divine Power, the supreme Wisdom

and the primal Love made me.

Before me were no things created,

unless eternal, and I eternal last.

Leave every hope, ye who enter!

-Inscription on Hell's Gate in Dante's Inferno