Ed and I had opened up to the doctor. I told him about why I joined the military, what had happened to my sister, and how I survived a murder attempt; he listened intently with his hand to his chin.
        Ed told Marcoh about his and Al's attempted human transmutation. “I see. So you’ve committed the taboo…” Marcoh got up and examined Al. “Amazing… The ability to transmute a specific person’s soul like this, anyone as talented as you could be able to produce a complete Philosopher’s Stone.”
        A smile grew across Ed's face. “So…?”
        “But I can’t show you my research,” Marcoh said firmly.
        “Why not?” I asked.
        “You must not seek after the stone.”
        “Not even to get our bodies back?” Ed asked as he got up from his seat.
        “Never! This is the devil’s research. If you chase the stone, you will go through hell!”
        I gritted my teeth. I hated the fact that this man was sitting here and talking like he knew what I've been through, like he knew what Ed and Al had been through. Projecting his own faults and preconceived notions onto us.
        “We’ve already been through hell!” Ed and I said it together; our fists smacked the table at the same time.
        Marcoh turned away from us. "Please," he started, "…Please just leave..."

~~~***~~~***~~~

(Train Station)

        “Are you sure about this, you two?” Armstrong asked as we stood waiting for our next train.
        We looked at each other, then looked back up at the Major.
        “Even an incomplete Philosopher’s Stone could be useful. You could’ve taken it from him by force.” He finished.
        “Yeah… I wanted it so bad I could taste it…” Ed said as he backed against the bench, “But still, we wouldn’t want it so badly to deprive this town of its only doctor to get it.”
        “Besides, I think we gained a lot by learning how it can be made. Now we’ll just look for another way to do it.” Al stated as the train’s whistle blew.
        “So what about you, Major? How do you feel about not going back to Central and revealing Marcoh’s location?” I asked.
        “I met a simple small-town doctor today. I can’t see any reason to report that.” Armstrong stated while picking Al up so we could start to board the train.
        “Wait!” A voice called from behind us to see Marcoh, hunched over, catching his breath.
        “Dr. Marcoh?” Ed asked.
        “This is where my materials are. If you are certain and won’t regret knowing the truth, start looking here.” He handed Ed a piece of folded paper. “Look closely; maybe you’ll find the truth hidden within the truth—I’ve said too much already.”
        He then turned to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "And you, I see a bit of myself in you, Healing Alchemist, so please listen to me. I was forced to only give aid to soldiers so they could keep fighting. I watched men, women, and children die preventable deaths, and I was even made to take the lives of innocents... I'm going to tell you something I wish someone had told me when I became a state alchemist: Never let the military stop you from giving medical care to those in need. Question decisions that seem unjust; every act you perform can have dire consequences. Be prepared to face them and take responsibility for your actions, and become your own moral compass, even when others might try to sway you."
        I felt his grip tighten on me, his hands trembling as he stared intensely into my eyes.
        "I was meant to heal, to help, to bring comfort and hope to those who need it most. I don't discriminate, and I refuse to stain my hands with the blood of the innocent." I said as I put my hands over his.
        A sense of calm seemed to come over him as he smiled and turned to leave. “I hope the day will come when you can restore your bodies!” He called out as he walked away.
        The train blew its whistle again, and we quickly boarded before it could leave without us.
        “Brother, what does the note say?” Al asked once we got seated. “National Central Library, First Branch,” he read.
        “I get it… Like hiding a tree in a forest. Finding one book in that library will be difficult indeed.” Armstrong added.

(Train)

        Night had finally fallen; the train cars were darkened, only lit by the full moon that shone high in the sky. I rubbed my thumb over the watch in my pocket as I stared out the window, watching the miles and miles of trees; all the space that was left untouched by man was rushing by.
        "You should try and get some sleep, Miss Tucker. You'll want to be well rested when we get to East City." Armstrong quietly said to me.
        I nodded and kept looking out the window.
        "How are you holding up?" He continued after a second of silence.
        "I'm fine, really."
        A lie.
        "It's not good to keep everything bottled inside."
        "I'm just taking things one day at a time, sir. Yes, everything that's happened has been tough, but I'm managing."
        Another lie.
        "Please excuse me for being so forward, but I've known you for years; I can tell something isn't right-"
        "I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I would like to go through one day without being reminded of it." I snapped at him.
        We stared at each other, but Armstrong finally dropped the conversation, and I leaned back and closed my eyes.
        I really do appreciate the outpouring of care, but I can't help but feel a slight sense of discomfort. I don't crave the constant attention, nor do I want to be the focal point of sympathetic glances or hollow reassurances. It's not that I'm bitter or annoyed by their concern; rather, I wish people didn't feel compelled to act like my friend out of guilt or obligation.
        I want relationships that endure beyond the headlines of my life, where connections aren't forged from a moment of crisis but rather from shared experiences and true camaraderie. It’s the kind of companionship where we can both simply be, free of the burdens of performative kindness that often accompany tragedies.
        Truth is, I know how all this is going to turn out. It's a predictable cycle that I’ve witnessed before; everyone seems genuinely invested in my situation since it’s fresh and tragic, and the news hasn’t yet faded into the background of daily life. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that this sense of togetherness is superficial...
        By the time I return to Central, I feel like everyone else's lives will return to their usual rhythm. Everyone will have moved on to the next crisis, the latest gossip, or whatever new thing emerges to capture their attention. This is the nature of human focus.

~~~***~~~***~~~

(East City)

        We arrived at the station early the next morning. Ed and I had gone to check the train schedules just to see how long we would have to wait before we had to leave.
        "Looks like I've got a few hours to kill. Which is good; I needed to check in with the Colonel anyway."
        Ed rolled his eyes when I mentioned the Colonel while we walked through the station. A sweet scent crept its way into my nostrils, causing me to immediately stop. There was a small concessions stand set up near the entrance to the station that had just put out fresh product. I felt my stomach groan from hunger; before I knew it, I found myself standing in front of the display case, salivating at the delicacies before me. I picked out various treats, a mixture of savory items, sweets, and my favorite—"And all of the taiyaki you have, please! It's been so long since I've had a red bean paste fish cake!"
        The old man behind the glass smiled as he packed up my order while I headed towards the register. "Lucky for you, this is my wife's personal recipe; people come from all over town to buy them!"
        An elderly woman, whom I'm assuming is his wife, came out from behind another large display case to ring me up.
        "I hope they're just as good since you're making them now!" She laughed as she typed on the register and gave me my total.
        While I waited, I couldn't help but notice that her other arm was wrapped up in a sling.
        "May I ask what happened?" I asked while I counted out my change.
        "Oh, I just tripped one day at work and landed on my arm; the doctor said it was a clean break through my humerus. No need to be concerned, dear; I'll be right as rain here in a few weeks! Until then, I'll be ringing up customers instead of baking. Enjoy your youth while you can!" She smiled while she started getting my change out.
        I gently reached out and touched her good arm. "Don't worry about it; you keep that change, okay?"
        She tried to protest, but I continued to refuse. "And while you're at it, would you mind if I took a look at your arm? I don't know if you've heard of me, but I'm the Healing Alchemist. I'm pretty popular in Central!"
        The lady and her husband exchanged looks before the husband snapped his fingers.
        "Oh yes! I remember hearing about you after the war had ended. Yeah! You came down here after some of the riots broke out! You helped my brother after he was attacked."
        This made the man's wife smile and then turn so I could reach her broken arm. I gently placed my hand on her arm, and it began to glow red; not even a minute later, I pulled away and watched this woman's eyes light up.
        "Now, it is healed, BUT you need to rest it for another day, or else it could be rebroken!" I instructed as I grabbed my bags, "I think I remember your brother; it was Saito, right? Tell him that I hope he's doing well!"
        Ed and I left and returned to Al and Armstrong, munching on our treats as we walked. When we got back to them, I pulled out a few snacks and handed them to Major Armstrong while bowing to him.
        "I just want to apologize for my actions last night, Major. I was immature, and you did not deserve that."
        "Oh, Nicole! The willingness to come and apologize shows a great amount of maturity!" He loudly exclaimed, showing his appreciation by stripping off his shirt and flexing his muscles. I blinked a few times while Ed, Al, and I all exchanged glances.
        After convincing him to redress, Ed and I found ourselves sitting on a bench together while we waited for their train to board.
        "It was nice of you to help that lady." Ed started, "But do you think it was a good idea to tell them who you were? Given your current circumstances."
        I shrugged my shoulders. "Eh, Scar thinks I'm dead, so he's not actively looking for me, and if he did end up all the way out here, I'll already be long gone. Besides, hopefully he'll be captured by the time I get back from Liore, so I'm not too worried about it."
        "I didn't realize you were going to Liore." He paused all of a sudden.
        I hummed and looked over to see that he was looking down at his hands. "We actually had just gotten back from there a few days before we met you. Their prophet was performing "miracles" with a fake philosopher's stone, and we exposed him as a fake to the people. I thought we helped them out, did something good... But I guess we caused some sort of rift in the community."
        I could hear the sadness in his voice, and I placed a hand on his back. "You guys did do good; you opened their eyes to someone who was taking advantage of them for personal gain. Whether they choose to continue to keep them open is their choice. You didn't know what was going to happen after you left. You can't blame yourself for anything that happened after you left."
        The train whistle had gone off not long after that; I leaned against the open window while we waited for the all clear.
        "Please be safe, you three. We'll have to meet up again when we're all back in Central; I just hate that this is goodbye."
        "Don't go getting all mushy on us like Hughes, Nik." Ed scoffed with a smile, "He did mention having dinner once you get back, so I'm sure we'll see you then!"
        I nodded as I backed away from the train and waved at the trio as the train departed from the station.