Chapter #3: Watching Shadows
The rear gate of the military vehicle slammed shut with a dull thud.
Kimblee was thrown inside without ceremony. The metal vibrated as the engine roared to life, and the convoy began to move, kicking up dust from the dirt road. The constant rattling set the rhythm of the journey—monotonous, almost hypnotic.
From his place inside, Kimblee slowly turned his head.
Through a narrow opening, he could see the second vehicle following behind. It carried the wounded from the front lines—bloodstained bandages, motionless bodies, vacant stares. Among them, he recognized one in particular.
The Silver Alchemist.
His leg was badly injured, crudely immobilized. The pain was evident even from a distance. Kimblee let out a soft laugh, barely more than a whisper.
—Even the most skilled tend to fall —he murmured, never taking his eyes off him.
The vehicle pressed onward.
The landscape opened into wide plains. Low hills, dry earth, a nearly endless horizon. Kimblee rested his head against the cold metal and fell silent. His eyes remained open, unblinking, fixed on nothing in particular.
Hours passed.
Three hours of travel.
The world seemed suspended in a strange stillness. Kimblee, lost in blank thought, slowly came back to himself when he felt a steady gaze upon him. He lifted his eyes.
Basque Grand was watching him from the other end of the vehicle.
—Are we far from our destination? —Kimblee asked casually, as if they were on their way to just another mission.
Basque did not move.
—Approximately two days of travel —he replied in a harsh voice—. To the capital of Amestris.
Kimblee said nothing more.
He turned his face back toward the narrow slit in the vehicle. The sky was beginning to darken; dense clouds smothered the daylight. Something far in the distance seemed to move against the horizon—an irregular shape, almost imperceptible.
Kimblee smiled.
Envy?Have you come to kill me… or to take me out of here?
Then, without warning—
Everything stopped.
The convoy braked abruptly. Silence fell in an unnatural way—absolute. Basque immediately frowned.
—Why did we stop? —he barked.
The answer came a few seconds later.
—S-sir… —one of the soldiers said from outside—. Ahead… there's something on the road.
Basque stepped out of the vehicle without hesitation. The rest of the guards raised their weapons, tense, aiming forward. From inside, Kimblee watched, expectant.
Basque approached what appeared to be a massive gap in the road.
Dark.
Too dark.
It did not reflect light. No depth could be seen.
He crouched and touched the ground.
His eyes widened slightly.
—This isn't a hole… —he murmured.
The "stain" moved.
The darkness rippled as if alive. From it, eyes began to emerge. Dozens. Then hundreds. They glowed with a cold, inhuman light, observing everything.
A figure slowly took shape within the shadow.
Pride.
The air grew heavy. The soldiers instinctively stepped back. Some lowered their weapons, unable to aim.
Basque reacted instantly.
He slammed his hands into the ground.
Iron answered.
Metal surged from the earth like a waking beast—plates, spikes, improvised walls. His iron-coated gloves twisted and expanded, growing more robust, more aggressive. A protective barrier rose in front of the convoy.
Inside the vehicle, Kimblee watched it all with a slow, dangerous smile.
—So it wasn't Envy after all… —he whispered—. What an honor.
The shadows continued to spread.
And the eyes kept watching.
(End of Chapter)