Fuhrer King Bradley listened intently as Anton detailed the horrific experiences against the homunculi. The Lieutenant could make out the subtle shaking of Bradley's hands. After a silence that felt like eternity, his superior spoke.
"...Is this some kind of joke, Lieutenant? Or a poorly thought-out prank?"
Anton's head shook vigorously, denying any such possibility.
"Then things are much, much worse than I ever could have imagined." Bradley sighed and leaned forward, looking Anton dead in the eye. He felt a power int he glare unlike anything he was accustomed to. That menace was familiar, but how he could not say. "Lieutenant, as my trusted agent I am going to make you privy on information that no one else in your team has access to. I want it to be clear that under no circumstances are you to inform any of the others of what I am to tell you, unless you hear it from me in the briefing."
Bradley opened his desk, shuffled through a few files, and handed one to him labeled "MARCOH". As Anton shuffled through the papers, reports in code on various alchemic findings that made no sense to him, the Fuhrer explained in layman's terms.
"The information that Amaud Octivir stole was a copy of this, along with other related documents. These are a detailed examinations of the experiments of one Doctor Marcoh, a State Alchemist working with us in researching the greatest potential advancement in Alchemy since its very beginning: how to create a Philosopher's Stone."
"Doctor Marcoh's experiments have taken place over many years, and to our surprise, they worked. But at a terrible price: the trial and error in creating a stone led to many dangers to those involved in using the Stone. So to test them, we've been using Ishvalan prisoners. When Amaud discovered this, he stole the information and planned to spread resistance, using the shock of it to usurp the military. And these... homunculi, you say, it's quite clear to me that the source of their power are Philsopher's Stones. Nothing else holds that kind of power; so that points at not just one, but two groups who have stolen top secret research and are using it against us."
Fuhrer Bradley gestured towards a map. "My current guesses would be Drachma, or perhaps the Ishvalans themselves. Both hold grudges against us, and one is known to send spies into our territory, while the other is in open war with us. Subterfuge is just one of the many arts of war, as I'm sure you know. While your missions will be varied under my thumb, I want you alone to keep in mind the true nature of the threat to our nation with these homunculi, and whoever their makers are. With that said, I am entrusting you to keep your allies on the right path: exterminate any Ishvalans and Drachmans you encounter, as are your ever-present orders, and do whatever you can to learn information on this conspiracy. Are we clear, Lieutenant? If so, dismissed. I think I hear someone coming."
[hr]
Victor's mother had tears streaming down her face as she shook the hand of Elias. "Thank you..." was all she was able to say; other words failed her. About that time the father and the doctor returned, and Victor's parents went off alone to talk. The doctor informed the trio standing by the room that it will be some time before Victor is ready to see anyone, if he even survives, and that they had best find somewhere else to be if they didn't plan on standing around for hours.
[hr]
The gangster looked absolutely terrified as he dashed down the hallway, trying to escape Marlin. Unfortunately for him, he neglected to read the signs. A wet floor sign gone unnoticed wreaked its holy vengeance, calling on the powers of the dread floor gods to slick the precise spot where the man's foot landed, sending him flipping up into the air and crashing on his back. He was dead in the water, so to speak, and easy for Deep Blue to catch up to.
"P-please, don't hurt me!" was all the man could say to the Alchemist, cowering in fear as he braced for some kind of physical torment.
[hr]
"Absolutely, Lt. Colonel." Banagher said with a beaming grin. He saluted his superior and left the room quickly, off to make his trip. Mira had yet to return, taking some amount of time with her task. There were either many books fitting James' criteria, or so few that they were a challenge to find. It was likely she would not be back for some time.
