Chapter #5: The Last Thing He Must Find
Kimblee rolled across the ground just in time.
Pride's shadows struck where he had been a second earlier, slicing through the air like living blades. The earth split open in black furrows, as if night itself had clawed at the soil.
Kimblee pushed himself up, gasping, his mind working faster than was usual even for him.
If I give him the Stone… maybe I'll save my life.
The thought flashed through his mind, fleeting—almost tempting.
Then another voice—his own, more honest—answered immediately.
Optimistic of you.
Kimblee clenched his teeth as he ran.
Creatures like this don't care about promises. He wants the Stone. Nothing else.
And if that's what he's after…
…it should be the last thing he ever finds.
He changed direction, zigzagging through the wreckage of the convoy. Smoke, dust, and mangled vehicles offered momentary cover. The shadows pursued him, always one step behind, as if Pride were enjoying the game.
Kimblee dove behind an overturned car.
And there he saw him.
Inside the vehicle, half-upright, his face twisted with pain and rage, was the Silver Alchemist. His injured leg lay stiff, held in place by a crude splint.
His eyes widened when he recognized Kimblee.
—Damn you, Kimblee! —he spat—. What the hell are you doing here, you maniac? Can't you see we're heading back to Amestris?
This… this had to be your doing.
Kimblee let out a short, humorless laugh.
—You old fool —he replied—. Do I look like I was running anything in this state?
He gestured to his wrists, still marked by the broken chains.
—Don't you get it? They had me bound hand and foot.
This… —he glanced toward the chaos, the shifting shadows— this isn't my doing.
The Silver Alchemist hesitated.
Kimblee lowered his voice, almost conspiratorial.
—It must be the people of Ishval.
The old man's eyes gleamed.
A crooked, bitter smile spread across his face.
—Of course… —he murmured—. Of course it is.
With effort, he leaned on a metal cane and pushed himself to his feet, stifling a grunt of pain. With his free hand, he pulled a necklace from beneath his uniform. It was simple—almost insignificant.
—Then we'll have to remind them —he said— what we're made of.
The metal of the necklace warped in his grip.
With a sharp snap, it transmuted into a short sword—bright, perfectly balanced for its size. The Silver Alchemist held it firmly despite his wounded leg.
Kimblee watched him, amused.
—Well then, old man —he said—. Time to prove why you're a government dog.
The Silver Alchemist bared his teeth in a grin.
—Let's do this.
Both of them leapt from the vehicle at the same time.
Just in time.
A colossal shadow descended like a guillotine and split the car in two, metal twisting with a shrieking wail. The remains crashed down on either side, throwing up a cloud of dust.
—I've found you, Kimbleee… —Pride's voice echoed, deep and omnipresent.
His figure emerged from the darkness, eyes locked onto him.
Then he stopped.
Before him—two presences.
Two silhouettes stepping out of the smoke.
Two "shadows."
Pride tilted his head, intrigued.
—…Two?
The shadows hesitated.
For the first time, the darkness did not know which one to devour first.
(End of Chapter)