****Hey guys, I've recently published a Levi Ackerman story called Little White Lies! Please do check it out, and if you do let me know how you enjoy it! Thanks!:)***

It started to pour. Only the sound of droplets of pattering down to the earth filled the atmosphere. Tension riddled the air I breathed and the more I sucked in a breath the more I felt the anger coming from the man who held me and from Mustang.

Despite Mustang's demand to the man to let me go, the man didn't budge. If anything he tightened the grip he had on me. I grimace at the tightness but do my best to keep still.

"What has this world come to?" The man bellows in rage. "How can you let mere children join the military ranks? You're bringing them closer to death!"

"Now I don't see how any of that concerns you." Mustang retorts. "After all, you're the one who's been hunting serial killers. Let me guess, the killings on Tucker's estate—you caused them, correct?"

A shudder runs down my spine. I blink once, maybe even twice before looking at the man before me. He did not react only stared at Mustang with a deep frown painting his features.

I couldn't make sense of Mustang's words. Tucker—killings—him. My heart sinks to my stomach as my throat tightens incredibly. I think I'm going to be sick.

"This world was made perfect by God." The man declares in the rain. "Alchemists change the natural into the unatural. They twist things out of their true form...they sin by defacing god's creation. I am a instrument of divine judgement!"

He was proud—truly proud as if God himself chose this path for him. And even if he did the man killed Nina. An innocent little girl who became caught up in her father's experiments. He even tried to kill Ed and Al.

He wasn't the pillar of God's divine judgement. He was a killer. Something in me snaps like a primal instinct awoke within.

My heart rate accelerated, my pupils dilated to the point everything seemed cut and precise. I grind my teeth together to refrain myself from growling like an animal. But nothing could hold back that raw instinct gnawing at the back of my head.

He'd killed Nina. He'd hurt Ed and Al. If he wants to kill me—fine. But he was hurting innocent people, and he has to pay.

"Shut up." I growl. I narrow my eyes into a deadly glare, he looks back unphased. "This ridiculous thing called divine judgement? It's just a lame excuse to kill Nina and other State Alchemists!" I slam my foot onto his own making him grunt in surprise. I try to yank free but he doesn't let go. I growl in frustration as the man does the same.

"What right did you have? What right did you have to take an innocent girl's life?" He pushes his leg out in a front kick landing a hit on my stomach.

"Y/n!"

Everyone had seemed to yell out my name but I couldn't pinpoint on who did exactly. My eyes widen in shock but when I released a gasp everything began to hurt. Drawing in air, looking around, even standing seemed impossible tasks.

The man let's me go and I fall helplessly to the ground. Tears even welled in my eyes. I wheezed and coughed uncontrollably in hopes of putting air in my lungs. It only made things more painful—I clench my stomach to numb the sensation.

Damn it, why couldn't I lay a solid hit? No matter what I do it doesn't seem to affect him. I was too weak.

"Everyone, stand down!" Mustang orders. I didn't have the strength to look his way. I kept my eyes shut wishing everything would just stop. "I'll handle him."

I listen to the click of his boots hitting the ground as he makes an advance. The man snickers, "God is being generous today. I'll make sure to return the favor!"

He pushes his legs out into a run just as Hawkeye and some of the Colonel's subordinates began to shout at him. At first I couldn't understand why then I realized how soaked my clothes and hair were. It was raining—and Mustang can't conduct alchemy in the rain.

I snap my eyes open and will myself to look in their direction. Mustang was caught in the moment to realize his mistake. He yanked on his gloves, his eyes burning like fire while glaring down the man.

I watch the man flex his hand like before, red sparks bouncing off his fingertips. Mustang was walking into a trap and he doesn't even know it.

"Damn it!" With my remaining strength I mustered myself to clap my hands together before slamming one to the ground. I focused on the atomic particles floating in the air.

I willed myself to change the density of the rain. I imagine the droplets transforming into something lighter than water. Blue alchemical sparks shot through the sky, connecting to each droplet surrounding us.

With a small pop the water turned into a fog. It may be a small change but it was enough to cloud everyone's vision. The man slows his pace while Mustang stops abruptly with confusion setting in his eyes.

"Colonel, duck down!" Hawkeye sweeps Mustang's heel causing him to fall just before the man's hand came in contact with his face. Mustang releases a yelp just as a sharp bang rumbles in the air.

Hawkeye fired her gun. The man growls in pain before he jumps away. My eyes widen in surprise, she landed a shot.

It may not be fatal but it was something. The shot had grazed his right shoulder, blood began to soak through his yellow jacket, but her shot didn't just graze his shoulder. But his glasses too.

The dark shades covered his eyes no longer and when he casted his angry gaze upon us, I found myself speechless. Those eyes they were redder than blood.

I never seen such a color before but only one race in all of Amestris had such an color. This man—he was an Ishvalan.

"You. . ." Mustang gapes. "You're an Ishvalan."

Said man only clicks his tongue in frustration before slamming his hand down onto the earth. A loud boom rumbles in the air while a cluster of dust surrounds the area. I felt the ground vibrate vigorously before stopping all at once.

When the dust lifted a hole had taken shape into the earth. I was only a few feet away from it and wasn't enough to calm the anxious build-up in my stomach. It was at least the same width as the street and deep enough to reach the sewers. And the man, he'd vanished.

"He escaped into the sewers!" The MPs already made haste towards the hole and were searching the area for the man.

Yet no one dared to go down, not even Mustang's men. I try to stand but found that surprisingly difficult. My joints scream in pain making me grimace at the throbbing feeling.

When I attempt to sit down my body stops mid-motion, someone held me up. Looking to my left I see Mustang, he'd taken off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders.

"You know, I'm inclined to say this is what you get for not following orders, but I think your body is doing rather a better job."

I send him a dark glare, "And I'm inclined to show you just how stupid that order was. If I didn't show up on time they would've been killed and you know it."

Mustang presses his lips together, he knew I was right. Still, he didn't argue further. "At least, you don't have any serious injuries."

He wraps an arm securely around my waist before helping me walk towards the crowds of MP. I lean against one of the cars as I attempt to ignore Mustang's inspective gaze. Honestly, was he this worried?

"Hey, is it over?"

A man possibly in his mid twenties pokes his head out from a nearby alley. He seemed curious but also alert as he looked at us then at the scene beyond. I eye him curiously, he wore a pair of glasses with his black hair combed back with a small beard growing on his chin.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" A resonant voice ruptures in the air. I glance to my right only to see a tall, burly man cross his arms while glaring at the man named Hughes. He was bald—partially, only a blond cowlick remained. Though he did have an outstanding mustache. "Where have you been all this time?"

"Hiding, obviously!" Hughes says before trotting towards us. He fixes his glasses before crossing his arms. "If things went bad then someone had to live to tell the tale!"

He gives us a thumbs up only to gain a groan from Mustang. Although, I was eyeing the man in awe. So this was Hughes. The guy Mustang seems to be close with.

"You could've helped us, you know." Mustang glowers.

Hughes only waves him off, "Forget it! Don't try to drag normal humans like me under the big top with the rest of you freaks."

That struck a nerve. The man had an audacity to call us freaks? Hughes didn't notice my haughty glare and turns his attention to the MPs surrounding him.

"Fight's over!" He declares. "Distribute an identification sketch of the assailant! On the double!"

The all shout the name "sir!" before scurrying back to the crime scene. I release a sigh, suddenly I felt exhausted. I was sure my legs would give out any moment.

"Y/n are you okay?" Mustang asks with that concerned look in his eyes again. I eye him curiously, raising a brow in the process.

"Obviously I don't have any broken bones," I mutter. "Maybe a few bruises but I'm fine, I guess."

He shakes his head, "I meant the blood." He gestures his head to the collar of my sweater. Glancing down I release a spatters of blood tainted the fabric.

I curse under my breath, I wasn't in the mood for this. I give him a look, hoping he'd understand this was something I'd rather not speak about. Yes my sickness acted up once more, but that shouldn't be any of his concern.

When his onyx eyes locked with mine I could tell he wasn't pleased. But he didn't pry further, but still kept close. I wished he didn't, otherwise attention wouldn't be drawn to us. Drawn to me.

"Oh-ho who's the pretty girl, Mustang?" Hughes inspects me closely. "She's quite young for you, don't you think?"

My cheeks immediately flare with my body going stiff. Did this man really think Mustang and I are—a thing? I wanted to gag and even felt my stomach churn.

Couldn't he tell the age difference? Even I heard Mustang choking on air beside me.

"She's a minor, Hughes!" Mustang gapes in horror. "And I'll have you know she's Lucinda's kid and a newly commissioned State Alchemist!"

Hughes blinks before gasping dramatically, "She's the one?"

Mustang could only maintain a nod before I felt my hand being yanked forward. Hughes began to shake my hand vigorously causing my entire body to shake.

"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" He greets excitedly. "But you can call me Maes! It's such an honor to meet the daughter of the first woman who became a State Alchemist! I heard she was a fine woman and strong one at that."

I smile awkwardly, "Pleasure is mine."

"And I'm sorry for your lost, it must've devastating when you heard the news." Hughes offers me a sad smile, one that I grown immune to.

I was used to the sympathy and the pity looks. Thought I guess it was better than having everyone know the truth. He finally releases my hand and I readjust Mustang's jacket.

The burly man still stood behind Hughes and I've realized I never got his name. "Who's he?" I ask no one in particular.

"I am Alex Louis Armstrong." The man introduces loudly before giving a courteous bow. "I'm the Strong-Arm Alchemist. Congratulations on your commission. And it's a pleasure to meet the daughter of the best Alchemist this military has seen. If you need anything don't hesitate to ask, you're Lucinda's daughter after all."

Was my mom truly friends with them? They spoke of her with high respect and with fondness lingering in their eyes? And right now, with their eyes glued on me I can't help but feel—pressured.

With my mother making a huge name for herself and even proving her worth with her own life, would the same be expected of me? Would I have to show how much I'm my mother's daughter?

I swallow thickly, they would be disappointed if they found out. And they will—eventually.

"Alphonse!" Ed's desperate shout causes me to turn and I watch him dash towards Al before kneeling before him.

He inspects his younger brother, his eyes full of worry and fright. Though Al didn't seem responsive to his actions.

"Ed—YOU IDIOT!"

I flinch at the sound of Al's fist colliding with Ed's face. I take a step forward—was that entirely necessary? Ed gawks at Al while rubbing a hand over his cheek.

He was speechless but Al—he was a different story. His entire armor shook and I could only imagine the outraged glare he sent in Ed's way.

"Why didn't you run like I said?" Al explodes.

"Because I didn't want to leave you here!" Ed defends with a frown, but Al wasn't buying it.

"That's what I meant by stupid!" Al punches Ed once more. Ed only shakes his head before slamming his fists atop his lap. He glared at Al with confusion painted across his features.

"Why?" Ed shouts. "If I ran away you might've been killed!"

"I might not have been too, you know!" Al retorts. "When there's a way to survive and then you choose death—that's what idiots do!"

"Don't talk that way to your older brother!"

Al grabs Ed's collar before pulling him towards his face. Ed blinks continuously with wide eyes but doesn't react.

"I'll talk to you however I want!" Al yells. "You have to live, and keep living so you can do more research. You have to find a way to get our old bodies back. And maybe save poor girls like Nina! I won't let you throw that chance away. If you do, I'll never forgive you."

A loud snap course in the air then the sound of metal falling to the ground. Al's arm snapped off. Ed falls back on his knees, his eyes void of emotion as he stared at the debris before him. 

"Oh no, my arm came off too!" Al fumes childishly. "It's all your fault, Edward! You idiot!"

I couldn't help but snicker at the two. They only had each other. Al's anger would subside and like always, Ed would agree along with him.

A small smile broke across Ed's lips, he even scoffed at Al's broken arm. After a moment when the rain had finally stopped and Riza had made her towards the two, a surge of relief envelopes my being.

I take another step towards them, but I found myself abruptly stopping in my tracks. My body grows stiff, like my feet were rooted to the ground. A sudden cool sensation runs down my spine and I couldn't shake it off.

My breath comes out unevenly at the sight of Edward's stare. His golden eyes locked with mine made my body shiver. There was nothing kind about that look, nothing friendly about it.

His face had contorted into something else entirely—was it anger? Fear? Pity?

I wasn't sure what it was but it made my chest feel hollow and my stomach queasy. His stare hardens and lips pulled down into a deeper frown. When he finally looks away it was like someone shoved a knife through me.

It took all my energy to look away. I didn't understand it. Why would he look at me such a way? Especially when I saved him?

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