A pawn's first advance

[Roy Mustang]

Equivalent Exchange. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. This is the basis for all alchemy. A reality to be understood, a truth to be accepted. Without sacrifice, what achievements can a lone soul hope to claim in this world?

---

The spotlight swept down the street a beam of radiance illuminating the alleyway for a brief instant before it passed forward. as the darkness returned, a pair of shapes detached from the wall and moved forward swiftly. The two figures dashed along the narrow street, large concrete buildings rearing to either side. The refuse of the abandoned district littering the ground and clumped into piles. They paused at the crossroads, the one figure scanning the skies for the next patrol drone while the other scoped out their destination.

"There's an open window, on the second floor, that's our ticket inside. Two corner cameras, both of them still look activate." he said after a moment, "They cross each other’s arcs, so we'll have to time our entry in between the wait... actually... looks like the one on the left just went down. The Kingdom's definitely pulled out of this sector. I told you this warehouse would be an easy score!"

His companion just snorted, and the two figures stole across the street and up to the wall of the old building. there was a moment's pause, then a swish and clink as a grappling hook soared up to the open panel of glass of the building. Two quick tugs confirmed the line was secure. then the pair waited, listening intently for any sound of their discovery before they actually committed the theft.

The night was quiet, save for the ever-present hum of the great energy barrier. This district was in disarray and had largely been abandoned. The Palatinusian’s had pulled their resources out, and anyone who could afford to follow them had. Only a few hardened scavengers and jungle runners found the place to their liking, and those people weren't likely to be out for a casual nighttime stroll. But then, that suited the Duo of Woe just fine.

Nile was the first to make the climb. He shimmied up the rope with a practiced grace, reaching the second story window in less than a minute. He peered inside, the monoscopic eyepiece on his left eye adjusting its UV feedback to give him a better view of the dark interiors. the warehouse seemed to have been partially emptied, but the evacuation must have been hastier than they had heard. a few shelves on the left side of the room looked completely intact, stocked full of crates bearing the Palatinus royal seal.

"Bingo!" Nile grinned, calling down to his conspirator, "We've got a haul! There's even a catwalk right under this window, it's perfect!"

"Just get in there and get the door open!" the second member of the Duo replied, sounding significantly less thrilled by the prospects.

Nile sighed and hauled himself over the edge of the window, landing on the catwalk a few feet down with a slight metal clink. the scavenger shuffled along with an unconcerned speed, descending the stairs and circling back to the side door. He almost reached to push it open when he noticed a small device affixed to the wall nearby. He frowned, then returned to the window.

"It's no good Jerrick, the door's rigged up with some sort of a sensor. It looks pretty high end, probably still patched into the HQ. You're gonna have to come in this way." he called down.

"Hush up, idiot!" Jerrick called back, "You want people to know we're here?"

"Jerrick, we've hit active warehouses three times now and haven't seen any lick of trouble. You gotta just realize that you're working with one of the best, realize you're about to hit the big time and quit worrying!" Nile smirked. Jerrick muttered something under his breath but began climbing, soon joining Nile up on the catwalk.

"If we're gonna get those crates out to the drop point without breaking 'em we'll need to take down that sensor." Jerrick mused, "I'm gonna see if I can get into the security room, give them a dummy feed or something to look at to keep 'em from noticing us."

"Sure, sure, do your technoscience, dude." Nile waved nonchalantly, crossing the work floor to the occupied shelves. "Those little loot eggs are calling out to me. They're begging me to have a look inside!"

Jerrick snorted in reply, grabbing his tools from his satchel and heading into one of the dark little rooms built into the side of one wall. Nile rubbed his hands together, grinning as he looked over the crates. Who knew what the Palatinusian’s had been keeping in this place before they pulled out. Weapons? Mech parts? Maybe even some Energon crystals?

With an anticipatory giggle, he picked a crate at random, prying open the lid without hesitation. His excitement dropped, replaced instead by confusion, as the crate revealed itself to be entirely empty. He moved to a second box, but this one also seemed devoid of contents.

"What gives?" he muttered, but his attention was drawn by a crash from the room Jerrick had gone into.

"Idiot, what'd you go and break this time?" Nile shouted, striding over to check his companion. As he drew nearer the room, Jerrick reappeared, backing up slowly, his face set into a grim line. Nile opened his mouth to question his movements, when a second figure emerged from the dark room, a pistol held with a confidence that matched the military uniform he wore.

 

[Roy Mustang]

"You guys couldn't have worked up the nerve to hit this place sooner?" the soldier said, a lit cigarette held in his mouth as he motioned Nile towards Jerrick with his gun. "You realize how boring it is, staking out an empty warehouse? I get it, you're laying low after that incident in sector nineteen, but come on! If you'd tried this yesterday, I wouldn't have had to cancel my date tonight."

The Duo of Woe stood a few feet from the soldier, the tip of his cigarette illuminating them softly in the darkness of the warehouse. Nile's thoughts raced miles ahead of him. What was a Palatinu soldier doing here? Could they overpower him? They didn't bring weapons to a job like this, but it was just a pistol, and there were two of them...

Jerrick's thoughts must have swerved in a different direction, however. As Nile tensed to try and rush the soldier, his comrade turned, bolting towards the door with a shout.
"Delta split!" Jerrick yelled. The soldier cursed, his aim moving to follow the fleeing scavenger. Instead of following suit however, Nile grit his teeth and sprinted the short distance between himself and the soldier, eyes fixed on the man’s firearm.

"Sergeant, look out!" came a shout from behind him, but Nile barely had time to register the voice, as he reached his enemy. the fair-haired soldier's gaze jerked back as he realized Nile wasn't fleeing, but by that point it was too late. The collision sent them both to the ground, with the gun skittered away from the soldier's hand.

Nile ended up on top of the man and landed a solid right cross to the soldier's face, the cigarette flew free as the man's head slammed back into the concrete floor. Nile readied a follow up punch but was grabbed from behind, someone locking their arms under his shoulders and hauling him backwards bodily.

"You okay, Sergeant Havoc?" came this new arrival's voice from behind Nile's head. the scavenger couldn't see the man, but his tone and the strength of his grip made it clear he was solidly built.

"Yeah... peachy." The first soldier replied, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up. He turned back to the dark room. "Hey! Fuery! give the Second Lieutenant a heads-up, we've got a runner!"

"Right!" came a call from inside, "I'll contact her now."

Nile was at a loss; just how many soldiers were there in this seemingly abandoned warehouse? His captor shifted his grip pulling Nile's arms behind him and the tell-tale clink of cuffs soon followed.

"What are you even doing out here? This warehouse isn't even being used anymore!" the scavenger stated, more incredulous than anything else. The first Soldier, apparently named Havoc, just gave him a look.

"You think we didn't notice your pattern of targets?" Sergeant Havoc asked as he fished in his pocket, producing another cigarette and his lighter, "You're hitting safe targets. Palatinus warehouses that don't have any affiliation with the Guild or the Pilot's Union, places with light security. You chumps aren't looking to get rich quick, you're in for the long game."

He flicked the lighter a few times as he spoke, igniting the tip of the cigarette. "Your most recent hit, that warehouse in sector nineteen, it almost went bad. So, you go to ground, look for a safer target next time. This was right in the neighborhood, sure it might be empty, but there was no chance anyone'd be looking for you here."

The cigarette's end flared briefly as it caught the spark. The man behind him spoke up, and Nile glanced over his shoulder to see a short cut top of orange hair in the darkness. This man was big, but he looked more athletic than out of shape, "All we had to do after knowing that was make sure the place looked extra appealing. A few empty boxes, a conveniently open window, a disabled camera..." the second solder grinned, "...and we get two little thieves right in our net."

The third soldier emerged from the dark room, a smaller man, with short black hair and wide rimmed glasses. He saluted both of the others before speaking.

"Sergeant Havoc, Sergeant Breda, The Major says to bring this one back to base, The Second Lieutenant and he have cornered the other guy in an alleyway."

"Great." responded Nile's captor, matter-of-factly, "Let's go then, this place stinks like mold."

"Corporal Fuery, make a note of everything we'll need to clean up." Sergeant Havoc spoke as they turned to leave, "We don't want anybody else thinking this place is worth breaking into."

"Sir!" the young man with the glasses saluted again, then returned to the dark room.

"Guy's still a bit on edge, huh." Sergeant Breda chuckled as the three of them crossed the warehouse floor.

Havoc's cigarette flicked upwards as he smiled, "Eh, it’s his first field mission, I think he just wasn't expecting that other guy to come barging into the room we were using. Spooked him a little. I know the guy ran off faster than I was guessing he would. It's a good thing the 2nd Lieutenant was out there after all."

Niles twisted his arms slightly trying to find a more comfortable position, but Sergeant Breda's grip wasn't slacking. "C'mon Jerrick, you're supposed to be an expert at these kinda places." he muttered bitterly.

"Hey, don't be so hard on the guy." Sergeant Havoc shrugged as the group made their way out of the warehouse, "He's not exactly running from amateurs, here."

 

[Roy Mustang]

"I'm telling you Roy." came the cheerful voice over the telephone, "Sometimes I don't know what I'm going to do! My work is piling up and I was going to take Gracia for a romantic luxury stay at the northern lights district. The poor thing has been working so hard looking after Elicia I thought she might like to take a break. Oh, but what am I even saying? It's a treat just to hear little Elicia’s angel cries! Why I'll bet that Gracia doesn't even..."

"Hughes!" Mustang cut in; brow furrowed in frustration. He sat at his desk, a few open folders scattered about him, "You said there was something important you needed to tell me? About that fire perhaps?"

"Fire?" the voice replied immediately, though the previously carefree tone was slightly restrained this time, "Oh! You mean that old bio lab that went up like a fireworks display? Yeah, that one's a real mess! A bunch of guys from the Pilot's Union arrived on the scene, in pretty good time too. They did their best to contain the flames, but the place must have been in really bad shape. They were able to keep it from spreading to any of the other buildings, but the lab is a smoldering pile of rubble right now, if I'm being honest."

"I see." Roy responded, making a quick note on the paper in front of him.

"The Pilot's Union Rep said they felt responsible for not keeping the building intact, and they've mobilized a few squads to sort through the rubble for us. A building that large, hopefully they can find some survivors."

"Well... Isn't that nice of them to be so helpful..." Roy murmured, a second line was added below the first.

"Roy, I wanted to give you a warning." Hughes voice came through the old telephone, somewhat antiquated technology by the city's standards. "I got wind of what some of the higher-ups are planning, and it sounds like you're about to get some pretty dangerous orders. Seems like somebody out there wants to use you as an example."

Mustang listened, sitting up slightly from his relaxed position at his desk. A confident smirk snuck onto his face.
"It's not like I can refuse them. I'll be ready." he stated.

"You do that Major. If what I'm hearing is correct, this might be a good way to get your name out there in a positive light. That's something you can definitely make use of." Hughes said with some meaning.

"Right." Mustang replied simply, eyes straying to his right hand.

"And who knows?" Hughes' tone abruptly shifted back to its original almost bubbly cadence. "Maybe you'll even find yourself a wi-"

His words were cut off as Mustang slammed the phone down into its holder. He sighed in frustration, glancing up to Second Lieutenant Hawkeye who had been standing at attention nearby.

"There's no need to be so forceful with the phone, Sir." she said, her face impassive. Mustang waved his hand in a placating gesture.

"Sure. What's the news on our two little friends? It sounds like we're going to have to wrap this case up quicker than I was expecting."

"They're ready for you to speak with them now, actually." Second Lieutenant Hawkeye replied, taking a clipboard from Mustang's desk and flipping through a few pages. "They seemed quite eager to reach some sort of arrangement from what I could tell." Mustang blinked in surprise as she reviewed the report.

"They want to talk already? It's only been a day! Ahh, these guys sound like they're just small-time scavengers after all." He sighed, before getting up and circling around the desk with a slightly dejected posture. Second Lieutenant Hawkeye followed him as he moved towards the door of the office, the clipboard held in her arms.

"Come on, Second Lieutenant. Let's see what our new informants can tell us."

 

[Roy Mustang]

Roy Mustang strode into the interrogation room with the slightest of smiles. The self-proclaimed Duo of Woe sat at the table in the center of the space, their backs to the doorway. The smaller one looked thoroughly miserable, head resting on the whitewashed slab, occasionally bumping it as he muttered something under his breath. His companion seemed significantly more reserved, sitting with his arms crossed and a blank expression.

Sergeant Havoc stood in the corner of the room, smoking as always. He saluted as Major Mustang and Second Lieutenant entered. Hawkeye returned the salute, while Mustang took a seat at the other end of the table leaning back, legs crossed.

"So, you here to get us to confess?” The larger man said after a moment. His eyes fixed on Mustang, who smirked to himself before speaking.

"Well, there really isn't much to discuss here. You were caught red-handed inside a Palatinu warehouse in the dead of night." Mustang lounged in the chair, gesturing towards the pair with his hand as he talked, "There's very little point in arguing whether or not you're guilty."

"You want us to name some names?" the man responded. Mustang opened one eye, still smiling to himself. The smaller thief looked up at his companion with some incredulity, then gave a loud huff of disdain.

"No can do, Soldier man! The Duo of Woe don't operate as part of any pyramid schemes. We're independent wealth redistributors!"

"We can't tell you anything." the larger man said, practically ignoring the smaller thief's proclamation. "We're Red Serpent. To be blunt, the payback we'd get for betraying them is worse than anything we'd get from you guys."

His smaller companion turned to look at him with a face that was a mixture of betrayal and confusion. From behind Mustang there was a snort.

"Yeah right," Sergeant Havoc said, leaning forward slightly, "If you were part of the Red Serpent there's no way that you'd be doing anything that stupid. They're not going to do anything that will put them in our crosshairs."

"Yet." Mustang added, crossing his arms. He watched the pair of thieves for a moment. The smaller of the two was out of his depth clearly, it was possible this was his first time in a situation like this. the other thief seemed to have far better composure, but his stiffness belied a nervousness that could potentially be exploited.

"If you're unable to speak that's quite alright. We'll continue our investigations with or without your help. Just understand that this opportunity may not come around again for you. It can be a long time waiting in a jail cell."

The silence hung in the air, Mustang staring down the larger of the two criminals with the same confident smirk he'd held for the entirety of the interview. The scavenger returned his stare for a moment, then another, then glanced to the side with a dismissive grunt. The other scavenger chewed his lip, glancing between the two of them. He didn't say anything, just watching the exchange. At least he was quick enough to catch on, even if he was dangerously boastful by nature. Perhaps this could work after all. Mustang got to his feet and strode out of the room,

"Give the idea some time, yeah? You'll have quite a bit of it."

 

[Roy Mustang]

Corporal Falman stood waiting in the hallway as Mustang exited the room. The taller man snapped to attention, saluting with precision. His hand remained held at an angle inches from his mop of prematurely gray hair as he spoke.

"Major Mustang Sir. Is the interrogation finished?"

Mustang returned the salute briefly, though it was largely an afterthought.

"Second Lieutenant Hawkeye and Sergeant Havoc will be conducting the remainder of the investigation. You need something, Corporal?"

"Sir." Corporal Falman nodded, arm still raised to his brow, "I just got off the phone with HQ. You have been requested to speak with Brigadier General Carillus for a new assignment. He wants you to report to his office at your earliest convenience."

"Does he now? that's a surprisingly polite summons for the Brigadier General." Mustang responded as he moved down the hallway, Corporal Falman falling in behind him.

"Ah, that's because I'm... ehm... paraphrasing his exact message, sir. He was quite insistent on your immediate appearance. Given that we were still finishing the..." Mustang waved his hand, stopping Falman's explanation.

"It's fine. Tell Sergeant Havoc to finish the interrogation, I doubt we'll get much more out of them, anyway. The Second Lieutenant and I will take the next shuttle to HQ." Corporal Falman stopped, saluting once again as Mustang continued.

"Sir."

"And loosen up a bit, will you?" The major chuckled, turning a corner.

He made his way towards the Oversight Room, gaze drifting towards the windows. The Markovian night was in full swing, and the darkened sky was speckled with kaleidoscopic neons as the city went about its business. This close to the edge of the city, the great energy barrier was readily visible in the gaps between towers. A constant reminder of the fragility of Markov's prosperity. A grand and glowing manifestation of the peril that waited for their slightest lapse in judgement.

Mustang frowned as he entered the Oversight room, blinking to adjust to room's darkness. A holographic display of the city dominated the room, currently focused on the eastern quarter. Sergeant Breda and Corporal Fuery were pouring over paper schematics nearby but turned and stood at attention as Mustang approached.

"What have you found?" Major Mustang asked eagerly, noting a few red dots added to the hologram, near the locations of the warehouses the two thieves had recently broken into.

"It's trouble, sir." Sergeant Breda replied, setting down a sheaf of paper and moving over to the hologram, "We were trying to track down the method those two were using to evade our previous sweeps. They managed to evade three response teams before our little trap last night. They didn't happen to mention how they did that to you during the interrogation, by any chance?" he glanced towards Mustang, but the Major only shook his head.

"They're being quite obstinate. Hopefully they'll be more cooperative after a bit of time."

"Well, we're pretty sure we know their method, anyway." Sergeant Breda touched one of the holographic buildings and a small panel appeared with several icons. "See that symbol there? Turns out this place is an entrance to a decommissioned subway line. And..."

He tapped a command into the nearby command station and a few more buildings lit up, each within a block or two of the warehouses that had been robbed. "It looks to me like a perfect escape tunnel for our targets."

Mustang considered the map, eyes following the trajectory of the highlighted buildings. Three of them formed a distinct line, though the fourth point led to the overall shape appearing more like a checkmark. His gaze lingered on the entrance near the warehouse they had caught the thieves at, an essentially abandoned sector close to the edge of the city. "Where else does this line connect?" he asked aloud.

"That's what we're trying to determine now, Sir." Corporal Fuery responded, still sifting through a massive stack of drawings. "The old King Line must never have been added to the database, the hologram doesn't know where its stops are. We only spotted those entrances because of their proximity to our warehouses."

Mustang nodded, pointing to the entrance near sector nineteen's warehouse. "And this little icon? it's different from the other three."

"That signifies the end of a line. After the sector nineteen exit there wouldn't be any other ways to reach the surface, I suppose there could be some storage spaces? Why?" Corporal Fuery adjusted his glasses, frowning as he noticed Mustang's growing concern.

"That's the end of the King Line, over in Sector nineteen. The subway's tunnels are a direct shot east-northeast from there. It looks like it splits into a fork here, just after sector twenty-seven. It probably cuts back to the northwest from there. But the other path... " Mustang spoke, eyes locked on the hologram. "You just said that this entrance isn't another terminal end. In which case, this old subway line goes right under the Energy barrier!"

Sergeant Breda and Corporal Fuery froze as the realization hit them.

"But it's not even on our records!" Corporal Fuery said, glancing towards the pile of schematics. "We have no idea how many exits there would be on the outside..."

"If the tunnel hasn't been boarded up, and it crosses the barrier..." Sergeant Breda murmured. Mustang caught his eye, already thinking the same thought.

"Exactly. There'd be nothing to stop something from out there getting inside."

 

[Roy Mustang]

"It's just a bandage over the wound. Hell, I'm not even convinced it's that! How does any of this 'keep the peace' in Markov?"

"The entire world vanished, Roy. That kind of thing doesn't just happen cleanly."

"That's not good enough. King Dulmare isn't..."

"Hey now. A golden dragon is regarded by many people as sacred and beyond reproach. That's not a claim you should be making carelessly."

"All the same, Hughes. I'm not going to just play along."



Mustang blinked rapidly a few times, realizing that he must have nodded off. The electric hum of the shuttle droned in the background as the city lights of Markov flashed past the windows. The shuttle passed through one of Markov's many skyscrapers, providing a moment of more uniform lighting before the speckled hues returned in force, scattering tones across the inside of the shuttle.

"There you are." Second Lieutenant Hawkeye said, seated across from him with a disassembled firearm in her lap. "Is everything alright, Major?" she asked, not looking up from her work

"Yeah, I'm fine." Mustang pinched the bridge of his nose, sitting up slightly in the shuttle's bench. He grunted softly, his back stiff. How long had he been asleep?

"Sir, might I suggest that you shouldn't be pushing yourself so hard that you need to sleep on the shuttle between meetings?" Hawkeye offered, her tone very matter of fact, as she cleaned the pistol's interior casing with a cloth.

"Right." Mustang responded noncommittally, "We're going to need to send a scouting force down into that subway. I'm not about to let some monster slip past the barrier under our noses."

"That's all well and good, sir. But right now, you need to focus on what's in front of you." She began to reassemble the pistol, metal and wood clicking together with a practiced efficiency.

"You mean the Brigadier General?" Mustang asked, his tone shifting to a more confident timbre, "He probably just wants to tell me off for not finishing up the case. He doesn't like that my name is in the running for a promotion this quickly."

Hawkeye didn't respond, slotting together the last few pieces of the pistol with a decisive snap.

"Though..." Mustang continued, "I suppose Hughes did get wind of something earlier..."

"Regardless, Sir." The Second Lieutenant interjected, arms held at extension, checking the feel of the newly completed firearm as she spoke. "You can't afford to be making more enemies in Central Command. You know that as well as I do."

Mustang subsided, leaning his head on one arm as he gazed out the window. The bulk of Palatinus's Central Headquarters rose before them. The Guild and the Pilot's Union were responsible for the bulk of Markov's armed forces, the former to defend the various economic interests of the city, and the latter to keep Markov safe from the beasts that lurked beyond the barrier. The Kingdom's own forces were devoted almost entirely to working within the city, a task difficult enough that they'd needed a force in their own right. As such the central headquarters had grown to a sizable building, spotlights beaming up into the night sky.

The remainder of the shuttle trip passed swiftly, and the two of them made their way through the halls. Even late at night, the halls were active. The city of Markov never slept, nor could its defenders. They stopped in front of the office of Brigadier General Carillus, Mustang knocking, as Second Lieutenant Hawkeye took up a position by the door.

"Enter." came the voice from within. Mustang opened the door and stepped into the office. The room was well-kept and minimalistic, a neon trim lined what furniture there was, giving the room a stronger lighting from below than above. Mustang stopped in the center of the room.

"Major Roy Mustang, reporting as requested, Sir." Mustang stood; his hands held strictly at his sides.

"Mustang! Good, you made it." Brigadier General Carillus turned in his chair. The Turian regarded Major Mustang for a moment, it's alien features inscrutable as ever.
"Tell me, Major. What do you know of Dante's comet?" he asked after a moment.

"I'm afraid I know next to nothing sir. It's not an official interest of the kingdom, so I've heard only local stories and rumors." Mustang responded; posture controlled.

"It is now." Carillus cut in quickly, "You are being assigned as a participant in the event referred to as Dante's Abyss, effective immediately."

"The gameshow?" Mustang asked slightly surprised, "I'm afraid I don't understand. Is the intent for me to represent the kingdom in this?"

The Turian chuckled, his mandibles clicking slightly, "You will be representing the Kingdom's forces, so bear that in mind. However, that is not your objective Major. You are entering on an information gathering mission. Your placement in the event is a secondary objective. We want intel on Syntech. Their abilities and objectives, any potential shortcomings. Is that understood?"

"Sir." Mustang nodded, "Though I would suggest that I am not the best suited as a spy."

"I expect you'll do just fine, Mustang." The Brigadier General rose from his chair, turning to face the window, " Syntech has connections in many places. An obvious agent may actually fare better than a more subtle one." the rigid plates that made up the Turian's face caught the light strangely. For a moment, Mustang almost thought they looked hollow. The thought passed quickly as Carillus glanced back over his shoulder.

"After all," He continued, and even through his Turian features, Mustang could feel the grin. "Dante's Abyss is a blood sport. Who else would we send, if not the Hero of Ishval?"

Mustang stood, face impassive, eyes focused straight ahead. He saluted the Brigadier General.

“Very well Sir! I will do my best!”

“Mmm, that’s everything Major. You’re dismissed.” The Turian sat back down to his desk. Mustang remained standing in place for a moment, then bowed slightly, hands held to his sides.

“Thank you for this opportunity, Sir.” He said. The Turian glanced back up from his terminal but did not say anything in response. Mustang snapped to attention once again then turned and strode out of the office.

 

[Roy Mustang]

Second Lieutenant Hawkeye opened the door to the branch's office with an audible creak. The wood was old and honestly in need of repair, but the kingdom's budget was evidently tight, as the workspace had not been renovated in quite some time. The desks sat in the center of the room, though only Corporal Falman appeared to be attending his duties, the other three were huddled around corporal Fuery's data terminal. Drone footage was giving contestants a showcase of this year's island while updates from the pre-game activities scrolled across the bottom of the terminal's screen. Sergeant Havoc nodded to her as she approached.

"There's a lot of really strong-looking competitors this year, huh..." Corporal Fuery, murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. He scrolled through the contestant list displayed on the side of the screen, eyes wide as the faces passed. "Woah, that guy doesn't even look like a person..."

"Eh." Sergeant Breda seemed unimpressed. "The major's handled worse in his day. Though I don't think Karl seems to put much stock in a fair fight."

"I'm sure the Major will handle it." Hawkeye stated simply, "For the moment, there are other things that need our attention."

The others turned away from the terminal, standing in line at parade rest. Falman put down his pen and walked over to join them with a look of minor confusion.

"I'll spare you his exact wording, but the Major wants us to proceed with the examination of the subway tunnel without him." her sentence was followed by a chorus of dejected sighs. A slight smile broke through, but she continued regardless.

"Unless he gets incredibly lucky, I need to be on the Comet to collect the Major after this whole event is over. I'll try and relay what information I can from the tournament and advise you as the situation progresses. Fuery, you’ll be our point of connection." Corporal Fuery saluted.

"That means the rest of you will be our expedition force." she looked between the three of them, "Sergeant Havoc will be the squad leader, but this is not intended to be a combat situation. We are looking to obtain information about the tunnel and, if possible, to confirm that it extends beyond the edges of the barrier. Understood?"

"Sir!" They said in unison. Hawkeye saluted back, turning to leave.

"Aw man, I was hoping to get to see the Major in action." Fuery said, "I haven't gotten to see what he can do yet. Hawkeye paused again halfway to the door but didn't turn back to the three of them.

"That's not what we're here to do, I'm afraid. We're here to do our jobs."

"Er.. of course," Fuery hastily responded "I just meant that I..."

"Don't worry." Hawkeye interrupted turning back with a faint smile "I'll let you know if there's anything worth watching."

 

[Roy Mustang]

Mustang lay in the hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling, good eye watching the rotating fan make lazy circuits around the room. Its orbits were slow and lackadaisical, in a way that soothed him or drove him up a wall, depending on how he was feeling that particular day. Today it was the latter; the squeaking motor hummed on, a mental spike boring into his idle brain. All he could do was wait as his overtaxed body recuperated from his poor performance during the battle. He was quite ready to be out of this place and back to work.

It was a military medical facility, but a small run-down clinic on the edge of the reclaimed sectors. The shuttle back from Dante's comet had been redirected away from the central sectors due to an unexpected shortage in openings A backed up fuel line had exposed nearly have a sector to some dangerously inhospitable chemical reactions, even worse there were rumors that some of the affected had spread their symptoms to others in the hospital for different incidents. The new destination had turned out to be a relatively outdated building, but at the time Mustang's condition had been too severe to be picky.

The Syntech facility had restructured his skull somehow. At least, that was what he'd been told, and the headache was real enough for him to believe it. Red eyes and an eager smile, that face had visited him in multiple dreams during his recovery, but he couldn't clearly remember much that had happened after Ashe-0 had been torn apart in front of him. His hands gripped the sheets of the hospital bed as he stared uselessly at the metal fan, whirring and clunking, clearly in need of maintenance. Useless machines, falling to pieces, and he was just another one of them.

Salvation came in the form of Sergeant Jean Havoc, entering the room with a salute, Document tucked under his other arm.

"All finished with the investigation of the old subway line?" Mustang asked, pushing himself into a sitting position with a grimace. Havoc's brow furrowed as he handed the document over. Mustang began paging through it immediately, almost ferociously.

"For the moment, Sir." Havoc answered a bit hesitantly, "You were right about its reach. The old tunnel goes right under the energy barrier. We didn't see any sign of any other scavengers or anyone else hiding out down there, but we did find something that's not exactly encouraging."

The Sergeant fished in his pocket for a moment, withdrawing a scrap of metal which he handed over to Mustang as well.

"It's not from a Zoid, near as we can tell, but there's definitely some Synthlives down in that tunnel..."

"Which means they can get inside." Mustang finished with a frown, as he held the piece of metal up to the light. It was a red tinted alloy, with bright blue etchings that seemed to glow even though it had likely been disconnected from its power source for a few days at this point.

Mustang handed the shard back to Havoc and continued to flip through the pages of the report. he frowned, noting a mark on the stretch between two of the stops.

"What's this, a service tunnel?" he asked aloud, and Havoc shrugged. Somewhere during the conversation, he had lit a cigarette, which he grabbed temporarily to reply.

"Surprised you even noticed that, Sir. Figured being down an eye would slow you a bit." He gestured to the bandages that still swarmed Mustang’s head and covered one of his eyes.

"It's still healing." Mustang responded a tad dryly, "I'm not about to start sporting an eyepatch." Havoc gave him a brief grin in response, cigarette clenched between teeth.

"Yeah, that'd put a real damper on your career prospects wouldn't it! As for that passage, we have no real idea. We couldn't get in to check. It's an old metal door, the kind with the wheels to lock them, Y'know? Seems rusted shut and we didn't bring any tools for getting in." he explained, then walked over to look out the window.

"Geez, Major, you let them stick you in a pretty low-end accommodation..." he remarked, glancing down at the street below them, "Can't you pull rank and get somewhere any better?"

Mustang chuckled, as he finished rifling through the report. "You'll have to ask the Lieutenant about that one. I should be out in a few more days at any rate, so I'm not going to complain at this point."

He handed the report back to Sergeant havoc, who took it with a nod. "once I'm discharged and I've had my debriefing with the Brigadier General our first order of business will be to secure this tunnel, Havoc. It's an open wound right now, just asking for something to wander inside and cause serious damage to one of the eastern sectors. I want you to start gathering up the equipment we'll need to block off the external entries. It's the best we'll be able to do until we can get approval to descend that unit of the energy barrier to block it off for good." Havoc saluted with a confident smile, lit cigarette twitching upwards in his mouth.

"Sure thing, Sir. It should be a piece of cake."

 

[Roy Mustang]

Sergeant Havoc found Lieutenant Hawkeye in the records room back at the eastern branch command center, conferring with Warrant Officer Falman. She handed off a document to him and the gray-haired man saluted before retreating into the depths of the record room. Hawkeye turned to Havoc as he approached, giving a salute of his own, if an extremely casual one.

"More trouble?" he asked conversationally, a good-natured smile on his face. Hawkeye shook her head in response.

"With luck it'll turn out to be nothing, we're just being cautious. What brings you out to the records room? You aren't typically very fond of this side of the job." she asked with a raised eyebrow. Havoc winced slightly, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grin.

"You got that right. The Major said you would be able to tell me why he's still in that-" he was cut off as Hawkeye raised a finger to her lips abruptly.

"Sergeant Havoc, would you follow me to the playback room?" she asked, then turned and left on the spot. Havoc frowned slightly but followed her into the playback room. It was rarely used at this point, many of the records were decades old, and several of them had been copied over in digital form. The projector was packed away in the back of the room, and several chairs in desperate need of dusting lined the walls of the room.

"How much did the Major tell you?" Hawkeye asked, arms crossed with a look of concern. Havoc's frown deepened.

"Not much. I just asked why he hadn't been transferred to a more central hospital yet. Is something up?" he asked, a slight excitement in his voice.

"You may recall the Major was sent to compete in the Syntech competition, not to win, but to gather information about Syntech for high command? He was given no particular direction as to what information they were seeking, but at this point we feel confident that they were after some of Syntech's medical knowledge. The facility he's at also doubles as a research laboratory with ties to Cytokine Industries. We now strongly suspect they are attempting to synthesize their own version of whatever technology Syntech used to... restore him."

"Well that sure doesn't feel great..." Havoc responded with sigh, "They wanted that information so bad they'd use a Major as a plant?" Hawkeye fixed him with a level stare.

"Did you see what happened during the event? The fact that man is able to think, let alone talk right now... I'm not confident the kingdom's technology would have been able to bring him back; without a doubt it wouldn't have been this swiftly. It's... unnerving how casually the Syntech personnel treated the whole affair, as though it was a casual procedure they did regularly..." Hawkeye sighed, refocusing her gaze on Sergeant Havoc.

"Regardless," she continued, "That's a question for a later time. Right now, we need to ready a search team to fully clear that tunnel. The Major should be due for release within a week, knowing his stubbornness. He'll want to pursue it as quickly as possible, our best course of action is to make sure we're prepared for it."

Havoc gave a sympathetic smile.

"No rest for the wicked, eh?"

 

[Roy Mustang]

Mustang winced as he pulled the sleeve of his military uniform on. He grit his teeth, straightening the coat with a hint of frustration. He was pushing things, there was no real denying it. His time in the Abyss had made him very painfully aware of his physical limitations, and he knew he wasn’t close to fully recovered. All the same, there was too much happening for him to continue to waste away in this room, letting those Cytokine bastards poke and prod him to learn about his recovery. If they wouldn’t come out and say that was why they kept modifying his treatment, then they could hardly blame him for leaving before he was scheduled to. He had real work to do, aside from being an expensive lab rat.

“Yo, Roy! You still lounging around on your butt out here?” came a good-natured shout from the hallway.

Mustang’s focused determination melted into an irritated stare as the door to the hospital room swung open with a clatter of old hinges. Major Maes Hughes strolled into the room, one arm raised and beaming as always. An unamused Hawkeye followed him in, holding a bundle of papers that were most likely his release paperwork. Hughes looked around the dingy room briefly then fixed Mustang with a quizzical glance.

"Wow, they really went out of their way with the comfort at this place." He remarked sarcastically. Roy turned back to the mirror in front of him, began snapping the coat into place.

"It sufficed for what was needed." He answered simply, "The main branch hospital was overwhelmed when we returned from the comet."

Hughes scratched his head with a sigh, "Oh, was that during the first outbreak of that Chem-plague over in sector 9? yeah that whole area's still a mess. The Guild has promised to develop a cure, and I hear Cytokine's researching some kinda vaccine for it for their employees. We have people looking into it, but there may not be much we can do honestly..."

Mustang nodded, straightening out his uniform.

"So, Hughes. What brings out all the way out to the far edge of Markov?"

"What? A guy can't book a train out to far end of town just to visit his friend?" Hughes responded with characteristic friendly dismissiveness. Mustang smiled to himself as he turned to face Hughes.

"He can, but a family man like you wouldn't make a trip like this alone for pleasure, and you're still in your uniform. Now what's the matter? Central command wouldn't send you all this way without a reason."

"You don't have to sound so eager, Roy. I have to check out a crime scene up in sector 26. From the initial reports this murder matches two others that happened in the northern sectors last week. If its not a copycat we may have a serial killer at large and mobile in the city."

Mustang frowned, "I'll join you. How recent was this last attack?"

"This morning, Sir. Preliminary estimates put it at oh-four-hundred fifteen." Second Lieutenant Hawkeye answered, "I've pulled what information was available on the earlier murders for you to review on the trip there."

"Excellent. Let's get moving then."

Hughes grinned, though there was a hint of sympathy in his eyes when he responded. "You know I was kidding earlier, right? You won't mind me saying, I'm surprised you're trying to be up and about this soon after your injuries, even with whatever mystery goo they used to put you back together. You aren't trying to compensate for what happened over on the comet are you? That contest is no joke, and you shouldn't strain your recovery. We sure as hell don't have that kind of medical technology available to us here."

Mustang crossed his arms with a smirk, ignoring Hawkeye's significant glance his direction, her silent agreement with his admonishment. "Don't let the head wrap fool you, I'm pretty much fighting fit. Besides, someone happened to let slip that my name is under consideration for a promotion. My performance during the tournament may not have been especially noteworthy, but this is exactly the kind of thing that could tip the scales in my favor."

"Just make sure it doesn't blow up in your face, Roy." Hughes noted, taking off his glasses and cleaning them. "This case is still highly unexplored. Hell, it isn't even an established case at this point! We don't know for sure what we're looking for yet, let alone what kind of threat this thing could turn out to be." he slid the glasses back into place, catching Roy's glance, "At this point I'm hoping it turns out to be nothing, but I have a feeling we're in for something nasty."

"All the same..." Mustang shrugged, forcing down the jolt of pain the motion induced in his left side so that he didn't give any reaction. "This is happening in my jurisdiction, I'm only doing my due diligence in looking into it. And besides, you need to cut me some slack. I've been stuck in that bed with nothing but a few errant reports to look at!"

Hughes newly polished glasses caught the light coming in from the window as he pushed them up the bridge of his nose. "You need something new to look at? Why didn't you say anything Roy?"

Mustang only realized his mistake too late as the latest set of photos unfolded from Hughes' wallet.

 

[Roy Mustang]

“If anything a few scars on your face will do you some good, Major Mustang!” came the static-laced voice of Brigadier General Carillus over the speaker, “It’ll help convince the higher-ups you’ve seen some real action, instead of looking like a rookie who’s snaked his way higher up the ladder than he should have for someone so young!”

Mustang hid behind an easy smile as he tried to read the Turian’s intent. The Brigadier General’s alien visage sat comfortably in his office in Central command, visible through the small screen built into the wall of the small cabin. Nearly every shuttle train in Markov contained such a room, reserved for military calls such as this one. Mustang stood at attention, facing the screen. The Turian was as inscrutable as ever, but Mustang could ill afford to discount even a token show of support from him.

“I suppose so, though If I might contest, I feel like they might hurt my chances with the ladies!” he offered, and Cargillus chuckled, “ Apologies again that I could not report my time on the comet with you in person, sir. We’re currently on route to sector 26, before the crime scene gets cleaned up. There’s been an especially morbid murder, and from the description in the case file I don’t want a psychopath like that at large anywhere near my jurisdiction.”

“So that’s why you’re travelling this early in the morning! Never a dull moment, eh Major? I…“ Cargillus trailed off mid-sentence as his intercom lit up with a beeping tone, generally reserved for emergency broadcasts and requests. The Turian frowned and reached for it. “One moment Mustang.”

“Of course, Sir.” Mustang stood waiting, as Cargillus raised a hand to his headpiece, listening to the report. He could see the Turian general’s eyes widen as he listened. Then a second beeping tone started, followed by two more in rapid succession. Cargillus turned to address one of them, a look of concern steadily mounting on his face. The screen blurred, static distorting and obscuring the image, the audio a growing cacophony of unfiltered noise and incoming alerts.

“Mustang!” the Brigadier General’s voice cut in through the noise, imperative despite the distorting static, “I think we’re done for the moment. There’s a-” The line went dead, and Mustang was left staring at a black and white static screen in bewilderment. Running footsteps pounded down the hallway outside the call cabin, and Mustang turned to leave when the sensation washed over him like a tidal current.

Rage. Fear. Power. Frailty. A primal scream that tore at his very soul in a way he would have presumed to be impossible. His knees buckled and he slumped against the wall of the room, hands clasped over his ears in a vain attempt to dampen the onslaught. It ebbed, eventually, though its echoes still resounded in his head as he staggered out into the hallway. The shuttle was still racing along its elevated rails, but Mustang’s view of the city looked… incorrect. Markov never slept; the forges of industry burned bright as the last bastion of civilization stubbornly resisted the onslaught of the jungle wilds. The great and terrible cityscape of Markov was alive and thronging with irrepressible purpose no matter the time of day or night.

So why did the city look so dark and empty right now?

A second shock-wave rushed past him, this one much more physical in nature. The entire shuttle rattled and shook, metal screeching as Mustang was once again thrown off balance. The brakes below him squealed in protest as they struggled to halt the rapidly speeding shuttle. Mustang growled, staggering back to his feet. There was something desperately wrong. The intercom of the shuttle cut in with a burst of noise, a panicked voice blaring from the loudspeakers as Mustang rushed towards the front of the shuttle.

“We can’t stop in time! Take shelter! The track has be-“

The words were cut off as the world around Mustang fell apart. Time seemed to slow down around him. His running arms began to swing errantly as he felt his feet leave the floor. he felt his balance tipping backwards, the doorway he had been aiming for tilting away downwards in front of him. Mustang’s eyes were drawn once more to the windows. Outside the image of the Markov cityscape tilted, then tipped a full ninety degrees.

Brakes screaming with futility, the shuttle train’s cars sailed off the edge of the destroyed railway, crashing into the city street below in a cavalcade of shattering concrete and tearing metal.

starting the "An Arbiter's Rage" quest with this post. I didn't want to make a new thread because the initial part is pretty attached to the rest of this one. Sorry for the extra work!
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[Roy Mustang]

Mustang tried blinking a few times, his fractured thoughts unable to figure out why the right half of his vision remained dark. As senses slowly returned, he gradually became aware of the swelling, aching pain that coursed throughout his body and pounded on his head like a war drum. His clear eye snapped fully open as memories of the crash flooded back. He was bent over upside down, curled in the corner of an overturned train car. Remembrance washed over him unpleasantly, but there was no time to worry about that now. The crash, were the others okay?

He shifted sideways with a groan, rolling onto his stomach. The train car had collapsed in on itself during the crash, but aside from the compression the structure was largely still intact. There was sufficient space for him to crawl around at the very least. He started dragging himself towards the shattered window and the faint morning light that steamed from it. Perhaps belatedly, he noticed that there was blood dripping from the right side of his face onto the crumpled floor of the train car in front of him. He reached a hand up to it and felt the blood-soaked bandage had slid free of his forehead and was caked to the side of his face. He had most likely burst some of the stitches during the crash. Well that explained why he couldn’t see very much from that side right now.

Ignoring the injury for the moment, Mustang hauled himself out of the window, broken glass shards crinkling as he pushed himself out onto the broken asphalt. A quick look at the surrounding architecture made it clear that this was one of the abandoned sectors, inside the energy barrier, but mostly empty. This was both a boon and a curse. Unless the conductors had managed to put out a call for help before plummeting off the edge of the track, most likely no one knew they were in trouble. Help would not be coming very quickly, but Mustang took some solace that the wreck would not have endangered anyone aside from the other passengers. A full five cars of the train had crashed down to the street, and would have caused untold destruction and havoc in a more standardly populated area of the city. The remaining four train cars were stacked precariously leading up to the railway about two stories above street level, held up by the mess of destruction on the street below..

One of the railway’s support beams had collapsed. He could see the debris of the structure, a tangled mass of concrete chunks and torn vegetation. The plants always blossomed in the abandoned sectors of the city. They were all over the street around him. Creepers and vines crisscrossed their way all about the buildings, neglect and disuse providing the opportunity for the planet to encroach and reclaim what remained of their civilization, even within the confines of the barrier.

Mustang’s brow furrowed. Something about his surroundings was wrong. The plants seemed to writhe and surge, he could see them moving almost as if they were actively seeking to destroy the buildings nearby. Was he getting delirious from blood loss? He watched a vine snake its way around the corner of a desiccated office building. Before his eyes the vine began to constrict, digging into the metal supports with the inevitable strength of nature, but on a scale that turned decades into minutes.

Mustang struggled to his knees, the unnatural nature of his surroundings fully taking purchase in his mind. He needed to find the rest of the passengers, and quickly. Even as the thought crossed his mind a nearby creeper started spreading in his direction with uncomfortable purpose. Mustang dug a hand into his pocket, grabbing hold of his ignition glove as the plant snaked its way around his foot. It yanked him with a surprising amount of force and his head smacked against the street, causing spots to flash in his vision. It was dragging him towards one of the buildings nearby, but despite himself Mustang went limp. He thoughts were swimming, a pounding in his head that made it hard to focus on any particular action. Slowly, almost lazily, he slipped his fingers into the glove as he was dragged into the shadows of the nearby building.

This plant had claimed much of the space inside this portion of the building, a knotted mass of sickly bulbs and roots. Mustang’s eyes widened as one of the vegetative masses separated into a slimy maw of serrated teeth. The sheer terror jerked him into action, and he held up his arm, thumb held to his first middle and pointer fingers. Small sparks of alchemical energy flickered around his fingers as he took aim.

*snap*

The monstrous plant erupted into flame, the darkness of the abandoned room flaring into radiance as the alchemist’s power tore into it without restraint. The vegetative bulk released a horrifying squealing noise, its reachers flailing about wildly. Mustang was lifted bodily into the air, the plant swinging him into the ceiling above with a thud. Adrenaline now surging Mustang braced himself as he fell back to the floor, rolling to absorb as much of the impact as he could. Another mass of toothy plant matter bore down on him, spreading out from the main trunk on a thick stalk.

Two shots rang out from the street outside. The bullets thudded into the base of the stalk, driving the bite wide of its mark. Its teeth snapped shut to Mustang’s left, a narrow window to retaliate. That was all the Flame Alchemist required. Mustang threw himself to the side, away from the beast, then snapped his fingers. The vegetation ignited from maw to stem, the coiled mass of plant matter catching fire readily.

“Major!” came the urgent call from Second Lieutenant Hawkeye, standing in the doorway of the building. Her right arm was stained red with blood and tied off at the shoulder with an impromptu tourniquet, but she seemed focused as ever, pistol trained on the flaming mass of corrupted foliage. “There you are!”

“Excellent timing!” Mustang grunted, using a wall of the building to get back on his feet. He forced away the flaring red at the edge of his vision and held his hand up once again. The writhing mass of malignant plant life was heavily scorched, the out rubbery layers burned away by his previous assault. It coiled its tentacles rearing up for its next attack. Mustang wasn’t going to give it the chance to try.

*snap*

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[Roy Mustang]

The corrupted flora was now reduced to a smoldering husk, and with a heavy breath, Mustang and Hawkeye moved back out into the street. They stood on guard back to back, watching the surrounding vines carefully, prepared for another assault. For the moment, however, the plant life seemed more interested in its destruction of the abandoned buildings around them, and no retaliation seemed to be forthcoming despite the noise of their fight inside. Second Lieutenant Hawkeye lowered her weapon for the moment, turning to face Mustang.

“Sir, are you alright? That injury doesn’t look good.”

“I’m not about to bleed out just yet, Lieutenant.” Mustang said forcing a slight smile despite his vision swimming as he looked her direction, before moving in the direction of the train wreck, pocketing his ignition gloves as his eyes roamed the edges of the scene. “We need to make sure Hughes and the rest of the passengers are safe. We have to-”

“Major Mustang, Sir!” the words came with enough force that Mustang froze in his tracks. He turned back once again to face her, “With respect, sir, you won’t be able to help anyone in your current state. Major Hughes is already organizing the rescue, thankfully it was an early train, so the occupancy was minimal. Right now, we need to focus on the bigger picture. There is something distinctly wrong about this sector, its something that-”

“The Scream.” Mustang interjected, and Hawkeye nodded. “It was unlike anything I’ve seen or heard. We need to find out what’s going on, and I’ve an uncomfortable feeling it won’t be something good.”

There was the clomping of boots as a trio of Cevanti soldiers rounded the edge of one of the train cars weapons in hand. They were clearly not in great shape either, uniforms torn and superficial injuries were evident from the wreck, One of them snapped to attention saluting.

“Is everything alright, Sir? We heard gunfire!” he called over.

“For the moment, yes.” Mustang called back. “We should reconvene with the rest of the passengers. Look alive, men! These plants have a mind of their own and should be considered potential hostiles! Lieutenant, you’re our rear guard. I’m counting on you to watch our backs!” He looked towards Hawkeye as he spoke, and she nodded, following them as the party of four traversed the debris of the fallen train.

There were approximately two dozen passengers on the far side of the wreckage zone. Those with relatively minor injuries were searching the debris or doing their best to help with the more seriously injured. Maes Hughes was examining a fold out map as they approached. His glasses had been cracked and he had several cuts and tears on his uniform, but appeared relatively uninjured all things considered. He glanced up, frowning at them. “Geez Mustang, what happened to you?”

“A train wreck.” Mustang answered tersely, “This area isn’t secure, Hughes. What’s our situation?”

“Not too great.” Hughes admitted, “we’ve got two or three men in pretty serious condition, and about a dozen more who need medical attention, counting you.”

“Casualties?” Mustang asked, his voice very measured. Hughes gave him a sympathetic look.

“Three, with another ten currently unaccounted for.”

“Damn! We’re too far out to make the rest of the trip on foot, especially with this many injured men. Any chance of help coming our way?”

Hughes sighed shaking his head.

“They’ll send someone on patrol through the sector eventually, and when we don’t show up as scheduled I would imagine they’ll radio back to command to check.” Hughes turned back to the map, tapping a point in the northern part of the East sector. “Thing is, it’ll probably be another hour or two before we’re late enough that the arrival point sends someone to look for us. And that's the best-case scenario.”

“We don’t have that kind of time, Hughes. There’s something wrong about this place, more than the other abandoned sectors. This place seems to be… eating itself…” Mustang paused, unsure how better to explain it. Hughes caught his eye with an uneasy expression.

“Agreed.” He adjusted his glasses and turned back to the map. “We need to get in contact with someone to get a rescue dispatched. Thing is the train’s emergency phone kinda took a tumble along with you.” He tapped a space on the map thoughtfully, “But, this place here, according to the map it used to be a public broadcast building. It’s only a block from us, and there’s a chance there might be some old equipment that could get a signal going.”

“Right. We’ll check it out, Lieutenant, I want you to…” Mustang paused mid-sentence, as his vision tunneled. He threw his arms out in a bid to keep his balance, swinging them in the air slightly. Lieutenant Hawkeye reached out and gripped his shoulder, keeping him from falling.

“Whoa there, Roy.” Hughes interrupted, “I think you should sit this one out. Half the people here should be in the hospital, after that crash, and you just got out of one this morning!”

Mustang started to protest, glancing between Hughes and Hawkeye. He sagged with a sigh, moving to sit on a chunk of concrete nearby with a defeated look. Hawkeye waved over one of the soldiers to check his injuries and change his bandages.

“Alright, fine.” Mustang muttered, “Second Lieutenant, see if you can get the word out that we need an evacuation squad sent our way, and quickly.”

“Understood, Sir.” Hawkeye saluted. After confirming the location on the map, she set off into the overgrown streets.

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[Roy Mustang]

Riza Hawkeye moved through the abandoned sector with careful purpose. She paused in the shadow of a torn awning across the street from the Broadcast station. The building stood largely intact, the smashed in doorway implied it might be occupied all the same. They were inside the energy barrier, so the chances that wild Zoid had attacked the place were minimal. All the same, something about this zone was decisively wrong, any sign of danger should be treated with extreme caution. She adjusted her grip on her handgun and darted across the abandoned street.

The interior of the building was musty, with an unpleasant odor that struck her brain as vividly familiar. That couldn't be right... this was supposed to be an abandoned sector! She moved cautiously through the lobby of the building, treading lightly on broken glass and some thankfully inert vines that littered the floor and walls. A hole had been burst clear through to the second floor of the building, chunks of concrete, metal and rebar littered the floor. A lit and apparently still functional elevator beckoned from one end of the room, but Hawkeye wouldn't have trusted it even without the severe possibility of collapse. Finding the door to the stairway, she carefully advanced, pistol held at the ready, but aimed toward the floor to prevent reactionary fire.

The second floor had a remarkably different feel to it. Though clearly past its prime, this location had been maintained until quite recently. At some point, an effort had been made to clean this space and organize the debris into manageable piles. Hawkeye grimaced, covering her nose and mouth with her free hand as the smell that had bothered her on entry snapped into place. The smell of an abandoned slaughter.

They were Markovian citizens, that was clear enough from the technological augmentations and neon undertones in their clothing. The group seemed to have numbered nearly two dozen, all wearing strange indigo robes that did not seem at all standard for Cevanti. They had been slain with brutal efficiency, limbs and bodies torn and sliced by something with insane strength. The broadcasting equipment was set up to one side, and actually appeared to be functional, but Hawkeye's attention was focused on the symbol that hung from an ornate tapestry at the front of the room surrounded by holographic candles in an attempt at a place of honor.

Omega. An ancient symbol that embodied the end. The tapestry seemed ill fitting for the rest of the room, too ancient by far even for an abandoned sector on the edge of the city. Eight colors wove an eight-pointed star at the center of the piece, but the shape the created seemed dominated by the woven arc of the strange symbol that clearly dominated the piece. It seemed almost as though it intended to swallow the star entirely. Whatever this group seemed to be revering it didn't seem to have saved them from whatever monster had torn the place apart.

Breaking free of her morbid curiosity, Hawkeye turned, and crossed the room to the broadcasting equipment. Some of Hughes's Investigators would be able to give them more information on what had transpired here, and the injured didn't have time for her to get distracted. She slipped on the headphone and earpiece, reaching for the dial to switch to a military frequency, but froze mid-action. There was a strange hum emanating from the headphones, the frequency so low she could barely even detect its existence, but it set her teeth on edge and raised the hair on the back of her neck. Was that... a voice?

Hawkeye blinked, how long had she been standing there? Shaking her head slightly, she changed the frequency, and flipped the switch to begin transmitting.

"This is Second Lieutenant Hawkeye, Eastern branch, requesting support in sector twenty-four!"

"Lieutenant Hawkeye, thank goodness! this is Corporal Fuery in Eastern command, What happened?"

"We're stranded in an empty sector, with several people injured. We'll need a rescue sent and doctors ready upon our return. We're along the rail-line and we'll send up flares."

"Right, We'll send a dispatch to pick you up, just hang on!" his voice hesitated for a moment "But um... the Major may not want to head back to Eastern command. Central command put out a call for all available hands to head to the Northwest wall!"

Hawkeye frowned as she glanced out the shattered window nearby. Fuery sounded unnerved, could it be a Zoid raid? Some fault in the energy field? It would have to be something bad if they had requested troops from the eastern side of the city. She put a hand up to the headphones.

"Corporal Fuery, what's happened?"

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