**Al P.O.V**

        It was nighttime; Ed had fallen asleep on the couch, his hand on his stomach.
        “Ed, with his tummy out again… What are we going to do with him?” I chuckled.
        “It’s like you’re the older one, huh, Al?” Granny asked.
        “He can be a handful at times, but someone has to look out for him.”
        “How old are you three now?” she asked.
        “I’m 14, and my brother is 15.”
        Winry came with a blanket, covering Ed with a tired smile, “To think, someone as small as him could be used as a weapon; it’s almost funny.”
        There was a beat of silence.
        “Thank you...” I finally said.
        Winry raised a brow. “What’s this?”
        “Why so formal?” Granny asked.
        “Granny, Winry. We’re so grateful for your welcoming us like we’re family. Even though Ed will never say it, I know he feels the same way.”

(Next Day)

**Ed P.O.V**

        Armstrong, Al, and I stood outside, savoring the crisp early morning air and the stillness of the world around us as we said our goodbyes.
        “Thank you again for everything,” I said, watching Granny smile as she took a drag from her pipe.
        “Hey, where’s Winry?” Al asked, scanning the house.
        “Resting; she stayed up three nights in a row. Want me to wake her?” Granny offered.
        “No, that’s okay. She’d just nag me about making sure to do my maintenance or whatever,” I muttered, starting to walk down the road.
        “Hang on… You should come back once in a while for dinner,” Granny called out before we got too far away.
        “Hmph, you want us to trek all the way up into the mountains for some dinner?” I shot back with a playful smile just as a tired-sounding voice drifted down to us.
        “Ed, Al!” We looked up to see Winry leaning against the second-story railing, her hair a tangled mess and her eyes still heavy with sleep. “Come back soon, okay?”
        “Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my head and waved at the two of them.
        “Bye, Winry! Bye, Granny!” Al chimed in, waving as we continued down the road.

(Train Station)

        The three of us stood there; I felt my jaw hit the floor when we saw it.
        The whole station had been roped off, with blockades lined up to prevent people from walking up onto the tracks and platform, and a large board placed out front that read:

Bulletin: Train Service Delay Announcement

Subject: Train Service Delays Until Further Notice

Attention Passengers,

        We regret to inform you that all train services will be delayed until further notice. This decision has been made due to potential safety threats that have raised concerns among our workers. The well-being of our employees and passengers remains our top priority.

        Our team is actively assessing the situation and working closely with authorities to ensure a safe environment for all. We understand that this inconvenience may disrupt your travel plans, and we sincerely apologize for the disruption.

        Updates regarding the resumption of train services will be communicated as soon as more information is available. In the meantime, we encourage passengers to explore alternative travel arrangements.

        Thank you for your understanding and patience during this time.

        “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?” I yelled.
        “I wonder what kind of threats they’re talking about,” Al pondered.
        “Can’t you kids read? The trains won’t be running; go home!” An MP had come around the corner, trying to shoo us away.
        “What happened? Why are the trains delayed?” Armstrong asked the officer.
        He tensed for a moment, weighing how to explain the situation, but when Armstrong and I showed him our watches, he seemed to relax.
        “There have been reports of bombings just north of here. They’re not close, but parts of the railways were affected. We might be okay, being so far south, but some people are worried about more attacks possibly making their way down here—like when we were hit during the Civil War with Ishval.” The MP's expression softened as he spoke, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “It's precautionary, you know? They don’t want to take any chances, and who can blame them?”
        Armstrong and I exchanged glances, the gravity of his words settling in. I remembered when I was 9 years old, being here when we got word of a bomb hitting nearby; Winry, Al, and I were all terrified of it hitting us. I was surprised Granny was able to calm the three of us down afterward. The thought of that kind of violence sent a chill through me.
        I noticed a slight tremor in Armstrong's hands. He had mentioned his involvement in the Civil War, and just the mention of it seemed to unsettle him.
        “How long do you think it will take?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
        The MP sighed. “Could be a few days, could be longer. They’re still assessing the situation. Just stay alert, alright?”
        Frustration bubbled up inside me. To think we had our bodies fixed and were ready to go, ready to uncover Marcoh's clues and get one step closer to making a Philosopher’s Stone, one step closer to reclaiming our bodies. It was just one thing after another. I was ready to lash out in anger again, but suddenly a thought crossed my mind.
        “Wait! You said north of here... Where exactly did it happen?!”
        The MP scratched his head in thought. “Hmm. I remember them mentioning a place close to Posterim. Think they said it was from Liore?”
        Al and Armstrong gasped in shock. My heart dropped, a buzz of panic coursing through me. “Did you hear anything about where it hit? Did everyone make it out safe? Were there casualties?”
        He looked at me, shaking his head. “I don’t know about specifics, I’m sorry... Sounds like you’ve got someone up there? I hope they’re okay, for your sake.”
        I nodded, then walked away with Al and Armstrong, my feet dragging heavily.
        “Do you think Nicole is okay?” Al asked, worry lacing his voice.
        “I don’t know... I wish we could get ahold of her and find out. What if she’s hurt? What if they’re trying to contact her family and can’t reach anyone?” Panic began to rise in my chest.
        “We can’t let that bother us right now, Edward...” Armstrong placed a hand on my shoulder, his own trembling, tears threatening to spill.
        “What do you think we should do, then?”
        “We wait it out,” he replied after a moment. “I know you two are worried, as am I, but there’s no point in stressing ourselves over something we can’t control. I’ll see if we can arrange a car to help us get back to Central.”
        As much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was right. The MP had already mentioned the potential for more attacks, and rushing off could put us in even greater danger.
        I took a moment to calm myself, trying to think clearly about our next steps.
        “I’m sure Granny and Winry wouldn’t mind having us for a little longer,” Al suggested quietly.