Ishvalans were people who lived near the east border of Amestris. They believed in one god, Ishvala, and are heavily known for their bright red eyes and dark tanned skin. Not once have they come to equal terms with Amestrians or our Central government.

It was due to their religious differences that made them move east, away from persecution. But thirteen years ago, an Amestrian solider shot an Ishvalan child. It was the sole spark that started the Eastern Civil War.

Riot after riot soon turned into a full blown war throughout the entire Eastern area. Seven years past with no progress for the Central government, so the military commanders took on a new tactic. State Alchemists.

Using soldiers with alchemical powers had created an all-out genocide campaign against all Ishvalans. They weren't seen as an advancement in science in the military anymore but merely human weapons for the government. It was an opportunity created in order to test the government's stability for war.

It was Mustang who explained all this to us within his office hours after meeting the Isvalan killer named Scar. Hearing his lecture, it was like a review for me. I didn't know what was going on when my mother left for the front lines, but when I heard of her passing I forced myself to read and understand the things that got her killed.

When I learned of her mission in the war—I couldn't fathom it. Did my mother really follow through with her orders to kill every Ishvalan in her path?

I swallow thickly as I sat upon a couch with Mustang's jacket still over me. It was one of the questions I wanted an answer to when I transmuted back her soul.

"I was one of those alchemists," Mustang murmurs bringing me out of my reverie. Looking up I saw Ed sitting atop a desk with a towel around his shoulders and Al on the ground with fabric tied around his broken armor.

Armstrong, Hughes, Hawkeye, and the rest of Mustang's men stood within the office as well with solemn looks on their faces. Looking back Mustang he had his elbows propped on the desk with his hands clasped before his lips.

"It's why there's a certain justice that one of the last surviving Ishvalans would seek revenge."

I shake my head, even if Mustang and the rest of the State Alchemists had orders to follow it didn't give people like Scar the right to rampage through an entire city, assassinating each person. It's still murder.

"No," Ed breathes with his lips forming a thin line. "It's still not justified. He's still involving innocent people for his revenge. He's just candy-coating it by saying it's self-righteous and that he's an instrument of god."

Ed grits his teeth with fire burning in his eyes. I find myself nodding to his words, agreeing along.

"Ed's right," I mumble. "We're talking about someone who hates alchemy, but is using that very power to get revenge. To be honest, it disgusts me."

It disgusted me so much that I bile had risen to my throat. How could a man claim hatred towards a power he's adamant on using? It was hypocritical and quite frankly also illogical.

Though despite my feverish agreement, Ed doesn't look my way. He hasn't ever since the battle and seems to be doing everything in his power to pretend I didn't exist. The look he gave earlier still bothered me and I still couldn't understand the meaning behind it.

All I knew was that it was enough to send shooting pains in my chest, and enough for me to feel small and worthless. I look away reluctantly, biting back my frustration. No one noticed, and I wish to keep it that way.

"Someone like that, who's either totally insane or doesn't care what other people think about them, is one of the most dangerous people there is." Hughes adds with a sigh. "And frankly, it scares me."

Mustang hums in agreement but settles his expression into a dark look. "We can't care what people think about us," he states. "We can't afford to die yet. The next time we meet, there won't be any explanations. We kill him."

My body stiffens under his words—kill him? He said it as if it were an everyday thing. As if it were an normal act.

Though as I glanced about the room I notice everyone else had nodded in agreement. Except Ed and Al. The blood running in my veins turns icy cold, I swallow thickly.

Can I do it? Can I really commit the act of killing? I look down at my hands, I never dreamed of hurting someone let alone killing.

Such ideas simply puts my mind to a halt. As if such ideas were too ugly to think about. But today something raging and strong had coursed throughout my body when I met Scar.

I didn't hesitate to attack when I saw the shape Ed and Al were in. I even felt something snap inside me when I learned of Nina's murder. I close my hands into fists—I did want to kill him.

I wanted to rip him limb from limb. But if I do meet him again could I really do it? Instead of thinking it, can I really land a killing blow?

I was abruptly riddled from those thoughts when I hear someone spam their knees before standing.

"Okay!" Hughes breathes with a different look in his eyes. I assume this conversation was dragging him. "On that cheerful note, we end this pointless conversation."

I couldn't help but huff in agreement. The more I thought about Scar the more I felt that strange bubbling sensation build inside me. I didn't like the hot, burning feeling.

I watch as Hughes strides towards the boys before placing his hands on his hips. "What are you guys gonna do now?"

Ed blinks once, I was certain he was lost in thought. It took a moment for him to answer as he glances at Al before looking down at his missing arm.

"I would like to put Al back together," he sighs tiredly. "But I can't perform alchemy with one hand—"

"Shall I fix him for you?" Armstrong booms as he flexes abruptly with his chest puffed out. I wasn't sure when he'd took off his shirt but the mere sight made me squeak before shutting my eyes.

I hear Al gasp before stammering terribly. "No! Thank you!" He denies hastily.

"Major Armstrong, please put on your shirt!" I hear Mustang fume. "Stripping isn't necessary."

Armstrong gasps in shock, "I was not stripping. I was merely getting ready to attend to important business."

"I'm not that important!" Al exclaims.

I snicker lightly before reopening my eyes. Thank god Armstrong was fully clothed. Though Ed didn't find any of it amusing, he simply sets his lips to a frown before sighing.

"Anyway, I'm the only one who knows how to keep Al's soul in the armor. With that being said we need to go back to Resembool so I can get a new arm."

Riza hums ponderously. I glance in her direction. She stood behind Mustang.

"So if Ed can't use alchemy then he's just. . ."

"A brat who swears a lot," a man with blond hair and a cigarette between his lips going by the name, Havoc, grumbles.

"An arrogant pipsqueak," Hughes nods.

"Useless! Just useless!" Mustang shakes his head disappointedly.

I watch as Ed's face slowly turns to the color rouge while his brows furrow into tilted lines. Each statement was truer than the last and I find myself agreeing with them.

"You are just a midget who hates being called small," I muse.

Ed's eyes widen with his jaw going slack. He whirls to Al, expecting backup. But Al only shrugs, "Sorry, brother, I don't know how to follow that."

"You're all picking on me!" Ed whines with a pout while turning away.

"It's only the truth," I sigh while waving a hand.

"Whatever!" He grumbles. "Bottom line is I need to see my mechanic. End of story."

A wave of relief washes over me—I was going back to Resembool. The place what seemed like a beautiful cage now seemed like paradise. I shouldn't have left.

If I hadn't Nina would still be alive along with Alexander. And maybe Ed and Al wouldn't be hurt. My smile falters, my gaze dimming. And maybe Ed wouldn't have to avoid me.

"It's settled then!" Ed's abrupt shout gave me a startle. I hadn't realized I zoned out again. He'd hopped off the desk and strides towards Al. "Well, I got some packing to do before tomorrow. You too, Y/n."

He said the last part with a bit of bite to it. It made me flinch, I even felt everyone's eyes on me but nonetheless I got up as well as peeling off Mustang's jacket. My heart was racing at an abnormal pace, like I was a child awaiting for a scolding.

I try to ignore the feeling by keeping my eyes on the exit. Al was already being hauled out the office by Armstrong with everyone else following suit. Though as I try to exit too, my feet come to a halt.

"Y/n, hold on for a moment," Mustang calls out. "There's something I want to give you."

I glance over my shoulder, meeting Mustang's auspicious stare. Even Riza had an odd glint in her eyes. Raising a brow I saunter towards his desk. "What is it?"

He shrugs with a smug smile. "Due to Scar's attack we didn't get to complete your State Alchemist enlistment."

"But you said I passed after the test," I remind. "You even said I'm your newly commissioned State Alchemist."

"Yes, I did say that," Mustang muses. He reaches into a drawer with his smile widening. "But I never gave you this."

He places a written piece of parchment paper on the desk as well as a red box. Seeing the chimera seal atop the page my eyes widen.

"What's this?" I breathe, grabbing the paper. I don't bother reading it, there was too much words and I wasn't all that fond of the cursive writing.

"By the order of Fuhrer King Bradley, you are now officially part of the military as a State Alchemist." He recites. "You are now known as, The Lightning Alchemist."  

My eyes widen to his words. I already knew I was accepted—knew I was a State Alchemist. But the nickname—it was like meeting a ghost. No, it was like becoming someone of the past.

"I—I..." I find myself stumbling over my words and truly I felt foolish. I shake my head, "Lightning Alchemist was my mother. You can't give me that title."

"I didn't pick it," Mustang defends with hand raised. "I guess the Fuhrer thought it was best fit. Considering how you and Lucinda are the only ones who can perform it."

I swallow thickly, even if that were true it still felt—odd. I was claiming something that I was my mother's. It was like becoming someone else.

I swallow thickly, gripping the paper tighter. Could I really live up to her name?

"Y/n, relax. It's just a title," Mustang assures. "I'm not expecting you to be like Lucinda."

"And yet, you allow the Fuhrer to give me such a title." I mutter.

"It's not in my jurisdiction to disagree." Mustang shakes his head. "I know that's something you probably don't want to shoulder, but no one's asking you to be like your mother."

No one's asking directly, I wanted to say. But I'm sure everyone is assuming I'm as smart or as strong as her. I bit back a sob, it just felt so—wrong.

I don't deserve it—don't deserve to hear how great she was or even hold her title. Yet despite the dread filling the void inside me, I nod solemnly.

It was enough to put Mustang at ease. He gestures to the box on the table. "Open it."

I did as instructed and inside was a small sliver pocket watch. It also had the chimera embalm. "It's a sign that you're a State Alchemist," Mustang declares. "Make sure to keep it close and—-"

A harsh slam interrupts Mustang's speech. I flinch as the sound vibrates off the office walls. I glance to the door—someone slammed it on their way out.

"It was Edward," Riza informs. Mustang gives a small gruff, "I wonder what's got him worked up?"

I look away, too ashamed to dwindle on the thought. Glancing down at the watch again, I began to wonder if my choice of becoming a State Alchemist bothered him?

"Speaking of Ed," Riza looks back at me again but with a curious intent. I try not to squirm under her stare. "Do you know why he's acting strange?"

Oh, I had a dozen ideas as to why. And most of them had me being the reason. But telling them that was stepping over a line.

Mustang may have been friends with my mom and Riza can be his second Lieutenant, but that didn't mean I had to share anything.

I shake my head, feigning confusion. "I've no clue."

I wish my voice sounded confident or at least unbothered. But seeing how Mustang furrowed his brows I knew my tone was far from normal.

Before either of them could question further I take my things before walking to the door. "Thank you, Colonel," I say as I grasp the knob. "I really appreciate your help."

"If you're ever in the city, be sure to contact me," he says in a way of dismissal. "It was nice to finally meet you."

The words befuddled me. It riled up whatever sensation inside me. It made my stomach flip and my cheeks to warm.

I wasn't sure what to say or how to react. It all seemed—strange. Instead I nod awkwardly before heading out.

While walking down the halls a smile played at my lips. I wasn't sure what Ed found annoying in Mustang. If anything the man was helpful, and kind. Maybe a little arrogant but who could blame him considering the position he holds at such a young age.

But my thoughts slowly began to dawdle towards Edward. I knew now he was upset over my choice of becoming a State Alchemist. Though I don't see any problem in it.

After all, I only did chose this path because it seemed necessary. Necessary to keep them alive. But even if I was in his position such a thing wouldn't be that upsetting.

My brows furrow together, there was something else. There had to be more than just my decision because he would've blown up earlier about it. But he didn't.

The more I thought the more everything started to make less sense. I got more confused and my head began to ache. There's no point on dwindling in thought.

If he has something to say then he'll just say it. I just had to wait it out or wait till I couldn't take it no more. And considering how I despise the idea of Ed being angry at me, it wouldn't take long for the latter to happen.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

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