ToX
Auto-translated
Night 5 - Death of the King
Almost immediately after nightfall, a police car drove into the residential quarters. Law enforcement officers ascended to the floor where Morning's apartment was located and prevented him from leaving his home. Thus, he spent the entire night indoors and did not witness the events that shook the city…
- Hello, little brother! You've settled in well, I see. Even running a country.
With these words, Greed entered the Fuhrer's office at Central Command and insolently sat himself down in his chair. King Bradley stood with his back to him and seemed to pay no attention to the newcomer.
- Hey, bro! Have you gone completely deaf? - Greed drawled disappointedly.
- Why have you come here, my brother? - Wrath spoke coldly and deliberately. - Do you wish to take my state from me?!
King Bradley turned around and in the blink of an eye lunged at Greed with his sword. But the latter was ready for the attack.
- Old man, do you think I didn't prepare for our meeting? My body was already in the form of an absolute shield. Even your eye and super-reactions won't help you. When there is nothing to attack, what is the point of speed? - he asked, blocking attacks one after another with any part of his body.
Wrath said nothing and simply continued to hack, slash, and mince with ever-increasing speed. But Greed no longer even paid attention to these attempts. Perhaps if the Fuhrer had caught him off guard, the body would not have had time to take the form of a shield under such a barrage of attacks, but it was he who had surprised Bradley. Eventually, Wrath grew tired of it.
- You cannot kill me either. I will simply dodge all your attacks, - he said, stepping in front of Greed and looking him in the eyes. - So, we are in a stalemate. It is high time to talk. Why not work with us again, brother?
- It's very simple, bro! - the other burst out laughing. - I am greedy to my same core! I don't need your pathetic country! I want the world. And I have no intention of sharing it with you.
The Fuhrer grunted and sheathed his sword.
- Then what are you after, fool?
Greed snorted and held out a hand to Wrath:
- I just stopped by to say hello to my favorite brother. And you immediately took me as an enemy.
The Fuhrer looked at the hand in surprise, then burst into laughter.
- I always knew you had a peculiar sense of humor, - he said and shook Greed's hand. - You can want whatever you like. As long as you don't get in our way. Your desires are irrelevant to the execution of our plan anyway.
- Glad to see you in good health, old man.
Greed hugged Wrath and pressed him tightly against himself.
- Guys, forward! - he suddenly shouted.
The Fuhrer realized it was a trap too late. His eye saw everything happening in slow motion and could offer hundreds of ways out of the situation, but his brother's embrace was too strong. Greed slashed at Wrath's back and held him with all his might to prevent him from leaving. And the office, along with the entire wing of Central Command where he was located, blew up.
When it was over, a heavily breathing Greed (the explosion had not left him unscathed either) hacked and hacked at Wrath's heart until he finally weakened.
- Well now, brother… Surprised by the "explosive" talents of the boys from the southern slums? Now do me a favor. Die. By all appearances, I only need to kill you another seven or eight times before you kick the bucket.
A smirk remained on King Bradley's lips. He said in a weak voice:
- Fool… Our plan will be carried out even without me. And you have brought guaranteed death upon yourself.
- See you in hell, my dear, - and Greed pierced Wrath's heart once more. This time it stopped forever. The homunculus body could no longer sustain life and decomposed into tiny particles. From the outside, it seemed as if King Bradley had turned to ash. Greed exhaled with relief and addressed the void:
- That's done, guys. Now let's get out of here as unnoticed as we came. This place is already full of military.
At that same moment, dozens of silhouettes stirred. These dregs of society, whom Greed had given a purpose and made significant, were loyal to him to the end. And now they all hurried to leave the confines of Central Command. Of course, many of them would not make it out of the ring of soldiers who had already surrounded the blast site, but their deaths would allow others and, most importantly, Greed himself to escape. The homunculus took one last look at the remains of the Fuhrer's office, gave a playful salute, and walked away. A world awaited him that was meant to be acquired…
All of Amestris is mourning the loss of our beloved leader. His Excellency was brutally murdered this night. His workplace was razed to the ground, and all that remained intact was our ruler's desk. Strangely, despite its terrible condition, a scratched inscription "December 4, 2000 in the Lowlands" could be clearly read on it, as if it had appeared on the surface of the table after the explosion. Eternal memory to our great Fuhrer! Eternal memory to Neyra Drake!
Before her death, Neyra Drake filled out a survey offered by the Bureau of Investigation. Well, this once again shows that she never distanced herself from her people and was one with them. Furthermore, among those re-surveyed this time was Amko…
Greed was returning to his refuge. He remained satisfied with this night and hurried to share a new tall tale with his henchmen about how he, the great Greed, almost captured the world three hundred years ago, but Wrath stopped him; however, now he had settled the score for that attempt, and nothing would stop him on his path to conquering this planet. Greed already anticipated the surprised and admiring expressions on the faces of his boys and girls and therefore quickened his pace. Soon he was at the warehouse on the outskirts of the city, which served as the base point for world domination.
- Hey, kids! I'm back! - he shouted before even entering. But no one answered him.
- Did you all fall asleep in there? - the homunculus grumbled discontentedly and opened the door.
Before his eyes appeared the corpses of all his subordinates. Young and old, men and women — all their bodies were torn to pieces. The same thing had happened to the Fuhrer this very night, but unlike Wrath, his henchmen could not be resurrected. For the first time in his long life, Greed felt the pain of loss.
- Who did this?! - he screamed furiously.
- By blowing up others, they should have been prepared that someone would one day blow them up themselves, - came a calm but snide response. - That is what happened, as you can see.
Greed didn't say anything and lunged at the speaking man in an expensive white suit. The homunculus didn't turn anything into a shield except his palms, with which he intended to tear this dandy apart, but the man simply joined his hands — and at that same moment Greed was thrown back by a powerful explosive wave. He tried again to reach the man, but he created explosions over and over, which tore Greed's body and threw him backward.
- You were wrong not to protect yourself. Now I simply won't give you time for it, - said the lover of white suits. - You are a physical body just like others, and explosion waves are just as much of an obstacle for you. And at a distance, you are powerless.
Greed only laughed in response:
- Coward! I am immortal!
- Oh no, not at all… You killed Wrath; you know that if a homunculus is deprived of life enough times, he weakens and eventually dies.
- How do you know about Wrath? Who are you, a toy of my "brothers"?
- Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself, - the man said with a tone of regret, creating another explosion. - Solf J… Ahem, excuse me. Major Solf J. Kimblee. I just can't get used to serving in the army again.
- Kimblee, you brainless cockroach, if you think you are capable of weakening me. And you have absolutely no sense of style!
- I might not be capable… - the major put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a dark red stone. - But this little round thing certainly is.
The explosion that followed these words collapsed the roof of the building — and Greed ended up under the debris. He decided not to try to get out, for with the philosopher's stone, this psycho in a suit truly had the possibility of destroying a homunculus. Instead, Greed hurried to take the form of an absolute shield while Kimblee oriented himself through clouds of dust and sand. Finally, the major located the homunculus and approached him with a smile.
- There you are! How do you like the fireworks? I definitely love this little round thing. I haven't heard such an explosion since Ishval!
- You lost, cockroach! When I am like this, there is no way you can defeat me.
- Are you sure? - Kimblee asked with a smile and leaned toward Greed's face, which was sticking out from under the rubble. - How about this?
The major placed his hand on the homunculus's forehead and performed a transmutation. The carbon atoms, which Greed had made hard as diamond to provide protection, changed their structure and became soft as graphite. Kimblee grunted with satisfaction.
- Farewell, Greed. I hope you regret nothing in life.
With these words, Kimblee performed a transmutation — and Greed's head, torn off by the explosion, flew toward the opposite wall of the hangar. As the lover of explosions and suits had expected, the homunculus no longer had the strength to recover. He bowed slightly to Greed's head and left the room…
In the morning, Ment was found dead. His head had been severed and was located on a completely different side of the warehouse in the slums where the body was found. The unfortunate man's body was buried under roof debris. No matter how greedy he was, Ment hardly deserved such a death. Investigators report that the suspected killer dropped an exquisite handkerchief while leaving the crime scene. "Remember? 5 years ago, Arcadium Stadium at Van Andel," was embroidered on it.
And WisTrit was having fun in the company of girls and alcohol. A young handsome stranger, who was leaving the establishment with a folder of papers in his hand, congratulated him on a merry night.
Announcements section:
Wrong decision
Wrong conclusions
Chances are evaporating
This case may turn out to be more interesting than you assume. Remember the incident with the blue carbuncle, which you first considered a mere misunderstanding, but then it required a serious investigation. The same thing could happen this time.
Drakkoshka and Ment, as expected, are similar in some way. Modest, shy, and clumsy.
all-metal shell salutes comrades-in-arms
Paly is military. R.M.
You're trolling! I told you we hit Ment.
Living:
Amko
Deliries
Fray
Morning
Paly
WishmasteR
WisTrit
Киц Кицунька
Леанна
Dead:
Arandor
Dgak
L.Depravado
Ment
Reinhard
Spear
WhiteLizard
Драккошка
Небо
Нэйра Дрэйк
