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[personal profile] dreamer1789
For [livejournal.com profile] kristensk's suspense-packed mystery. XD

Title: Nameless
Rating: K+
Warnings: Eventual violence, particularly of the Scar and Kimblee sort.
Continuity: AU (alternate/divergent universe) set in the first animeverse.
Summary: It’s a difficult thing, putting yourself back together again. Piece by piece. Memory by memory. It was like alchemy. The slowest transmutation he had ever performed.

Go read Nameless!

Chapter 13

Ed looked up. A tall figure rose in front of them, barring the way.
Swearing, Darius fumbled for his sidearm.
Ed had eyes only for the distinctive x-shaped scar.

“Who are you?” asked Scar. His gaze was focused on Ed. “He called you Fullmetal.” The Ishvalan raised his right hand, cracking it ominously. “Tell me. Are you another of the state’s cursed alchemists?”

Ed felt a hoarse laugh bark out of his throat. “I’m the most cursed alchemist the state’s ever seen.”

Scar’s eyes narrowed.

“Not another step!” Darius yelled, leveling his gun on Scar.

The Ishvalan’s stance shifted slightly. Ed saw it. Saw the change of intent, the change of target.


Not again. Never again.

Scar lunged forward.

Ed freed his left arm.

“I’m sorry. But, please…”

His hand met Scar’s open palm. And, his world exploded for the third time that night.

Anger. Pain. Confusion.
A roar of foreign voices.

“What is this?”
“Let us out!”
“It hurts!”
“Kill you!”

Screaming with agony and rage, the foreign voices tore at Ed. Finally, here was an outlet on the world that had been stolen from them. Someone to tell of the pain and injustice. Someone to punish for the crimes against them.

“Please!” Ed was begging, crying, screaming.

It was like being torn to pieces. Flayed by the torrent of furious emotions and half-formed memories.

The terror of being trapped in alchemized walls as soldiers advanced with rifles at the ready.
The iron taste of blood.
The merciless sun withering the flesh of the dead and the dying.
Death upon death. An endless repetition of bloody memory.
It felt as though he was dying. Again and again. Drowning under the memory of death, pulled down under the weight of stolen lives.

And, vaguely, he thought he had done this before.

Also in icon form:

Working for graphics for this fic was just sweet! Thanks to [personal profile] kristensk for writing this epos and don't forget go cheer on [profile] bay115 for the even more awesome graphics she delivered for this fic! ;)


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