Kessler was a greedy man, but he was no fool. It would take an idiot to believe those stone coins were really money.
That knowledge did nothing, however, to stop them from stinging like a swarm of angry bees as they impacted his body at record speeds. Archer's body twitched and stuttered as each little projectile shifted his position a little. By the time the volley was over, he was so disoriented he never even noticed Leo until Barefoot was already delivering a kick directly towards him. Archer brought up an arm to defend himself, but he realized a moment too late that it was the broken one.
The already fractured bone splintered, and Kessler's arm split. Bone fracture out from underneath his flesh, causing him to shriek and howl in agony as a chance swipe from his good arm caught Leo in the face. Barefoot was used to stronger attacks, but his current odd momentum left him with little balance. He smacked into the floor, face down as Archer spun around above him, tears of complete pain rolling down his cheeks. "Damn it! DAMN IIIIT!" he cried, feeling the devastation of his limb. As Barefoot stood again, Kessler's breathing quickened, yet gained some of its previous evenness. His eyes were bloodshot, and appeared almost bestial. Slobber dripped from the corner of his mouth as he stared down Leo.
"You... BASTARD!" he yelled. "I'm never gonna use this arm again; you'll pay for that! Oh, damn it you'll pay! Even if I... even if I have to..." his eyes went wide, a revelation that seemed horrifying and yet perfection itself to the distraught Archer. With a tender grip, he placed a palm on his own broken arm. He howled and screamed again as his own arm turned into a barrage of bone darts, catching Leo off guard. Barefoot brought up several walls to dodge the volley, but there were simply too many. The bone darts caught the edges of his tattered clothing, pinning Leo up against a wall, feet slightly too far from the ground to reach it. Archer stammered incoherent, pained words as he stumbled closer. "S-sonuva... tookmyarm... gonnakill...kill, kill, KIIILL!"
Ken stared on front his point; at the moment, it seemed it all fell to him.
[hr]
The night fell upon East City. Joyous people everywhere throughout the town stopped what they were doing to watch with wonder at the fireworks soon to come. For a few seconds, there was nothing, then the scream of a launching rocket whizzed into the sky. With a puff and a boom, a shower of blue sparks in perfection spherical formation lit up the night sky. "Oohs" and "aahs" came from everyone as they admired the first launch of the night. It was followed by a trifecta of two green spatterings of random bursts of light, both flanking a single spiral of white. The representation of Amestris, their great and proud nation. Cheers erupted as the display really got underway. Blues, reds, violets and golds illuminated everything as the celebration fought against the looming darkness. A little bit of light even in the darkest of nights, truly reminiscent of their nation, surrounded by foes and in constant strife, with the military as its sole protector. The light of Amestris would never be snuffed out. Not by Drachmans, not by Ishvalans, not by anyone.
Roland, Kallu and James sat together, sipping in their coffee and taking a moment to sit back and enjoy this quiet moment of peace. They knew they needed to savor every one they got. They never knew just when disaster would loom over them once more...
[hr]
Marlin patrolled the streets, his weary mind forcing itself to remain vigilant, even in this little moment of happiness. To mixed feelings, it payed off.
A particularly brilliant flash of silver, in a piece of the show dedicated to the illustrious State Alchemists, a back alley he might not have noticed otherwise lit up. His eyes darted to it, unable to look anywhere else. And in it he saw a nightmare. A face, so inhuman he could scarcely believe it was real stared out at him with a face as cold and unlifelike as a chimera. Its dead eyes shone brilliantly, disturbingly, in the light. The man, or whatever it was, was dressed in an unassuming brown cloak that shielded its body from view. Its mouth fell open a bit, as if it were whispering something that Deep Blue could not hear from that distance. It sunk into the alleyway, and disappeared from sight.
[hr]
Elias and Tasha continued to speak. Though they had traveled some distance from Victor's room, but were still in the same hall. Which was why they immediately heard the terrified shrieks coming from his room. In an instant, the two burst through the door, to find the young man struggling with a silhouetted figure. With a quick slug, the boy floored the would-be assassin, who wasted no time in leaping out the window. As Elias and Tasha moved toward the open portal to the outside world, they saw him going at a vicious pace across the rooftops.
[hr]
Isaac was busy enjoying a strange bit of Southern food at the moment. They called it falafel, or at least he was pretty sure they did. But his moment of relaxation was shattered as chaos erupted like a volcano around him. A car on the other side of the street detonated in a fireball, engulfing nearly a dozen people around it in flames. Others sprinted away as quickly as they could go, as other automobiles nearby did the same. In short order, over half the cars on the street became nothing but twisted remains of scrap metal and leather. He stood to face whatever threat was coming, fearing it was the homunculi; he couldn't quite say he was relieved, though, when instead a throwing knife passed within an inch of his nose and impacted the table he'd been sitting at. He looked up to find a lithe looking man leaping down from the rooftops, a pistol in his left hand and a sword of all things in his right.
"Tonight you die, dog!"
[hr]
Amon was nearby Isaac when the bombings occurred, but he was encountering his own problems. The ground beneath him seemed to crack and shatter like glass where he stood, and only a dive to the left saved him from a lance piercing up from the ground. The weapon was followed by a large, heavily-muscled man dragging himself up from the hole. His face was square-jawed and furious looking as he leveled his lance at the Spice Alchemist. "Military scum! Tonight the wings of justice envelop you!"
[hr]
Anton was still on the roof when the attacks began. He heard the explosions, but could not see them. For a moment he considered them to be part of the celebrations, when he heard a terrible screaming from somewhere in his vicinity. He knew the source all too well. As fast as his legs could carry him the Lieutenant shot down into the alleyways, finding the source of the noise in record time; and still yet too late. A bloodied, severed leg resting in a puddle of its own blood, with a note nailed to it. He could hardly look at the limb, as he thought of the face of its former owner.
"Abel..."
With a force of will urging him on, he picked up the bloody note and read it.
Better run as fast as you can, military scum
Heaven knows he can't anymore
[hr]
The trio at the coffee house were still shocked by the sound of bombs going off, not able to react. Roland's eyes scanned the crowd for Richard, to ensure the little boy's safety. He found him too late. A figure he couldn't identify shot out from the crowd, snatching the little boy up, the giant bear falling to the ground and trampled underfoot as the kidnapper made into the alleys with his prey. Roland heard Richard cry for help as they went out of earshot.
"Mister Lightning!..."
He shot up from his seat, and only then noticed the hissing noise around them. James and Kallu's eyes opened up wide as they recognized it as well. Bombs. A lot of them.
All three alchemists ran as fast as they could to escape, and a second later the entire coffee house went up in a ball of fire and shrapnel. Charred bodies were tossed about like discarded and broken toys, as a fit of laughter broke out somewhere within it all. The three of them saw a pair of men emerge from the wreckage, nearly identical with their blue and white-striped vests and khaki pants. A uniform of a sort, but absolutely unfitting and even a little dark considering what had just occurred. Their faces were lined with the beginnings of age, likely mid-30s, and their eyes were shielded by black-lens goggles. One was clean-shaven, and the other sporting a thick and well-waxed mustache.
"Well, lookee what we've got here, brother of mine! These little scamps are fast!" the clean-shaven one exclaimed. "Seems like these little dogs are much smarter than all the rest!"
"The best of the best!" the mustached one agreed.
The both of them reached into the pockets of their suits, drawing handfuls of small, fused bombs. Both of them shouted at once, in a rhyme and rhythm so upbeat it sent a chill up the spine of anyone watching the grisly scene. "I suppose it's much more fun then if we give these three a test! I say, he says a test!"
