Chapter 13 The Threshold of Silence
Kimblee smiles in the dimness of his cell and murmurs to himself, almost tenderly: yes, that was the first time I heard that beautiful sound… the sound of a soul begging.
The laughter that rises from his throat is harsh, broken, unnatural. It bounces off the stone walls and slides down the corridor like a sick echo—uncomfortable, persistent. It is not the laughter of a happy man, but of someone who has accepted something the rest of the world refuses to face.
The shadows tremble as footsteps approach. They are not hurried or heavy like those of ordinary guards. They are calm, confident—almost mocking. A voice rises from the other side of the bars.
"Solf J. Kimblee… how nice to see you again."
Kimblee looks up immediately. He recognizes that presence even before he sees it clearly. His lips curve into a wider, genuine smile.
"Well," he says, "I thought peace had returned to Amestris. What are you doing here?"
The figure steps closer, and the light reveals the face of the man from the military. Kimblee chuckles softly.
"I already told you before," he continues. "I don't have it. The stone was destroyed."
"I know," Envy replies calmly. "I didn't come for that. I came for you."
The statement hangs in the air—heavy, uncomfortable. Kimblee narrows his eyes, genuinely surprised for the first time in a long while. Before he can respond, he hears the metallic sound of locks disengaging. His cell door opens. No one pushes him. No one threatens him. He is simply invited to leave.
Kimblee rises slowly, stretching his stiff muscles. He takes one last look at the cell that has held him for months. He feels no attachment. He never does. He steps into the corridor escorted only by Envy, and that detail strikes him as almost poetic.
As they walk, Kimblee notices something strange. The cells are empty. Where there were once screams, insults, ragged breathing, and hatred, there is now only silence. A clean, surgical silence. Kimblee tilts his head, curious.
"Was that you?" he asks bluntly.
Envy smiles faintly.
"Something like that."
There is no guilt in his voice. No pride either. Only certainty. Kimblee looks at the open doors, the deserted corridors, and for a moment feels a strange nostalgia—almost melancholy. Those voices that had insulted him, called him a government dog, a traitor, a monster… all of them are gone. Not because they changed, but because they no longer exist.
"I suppose I'll find out soon enough," Kimblee finally says.
"Very soon," Envy replies.
They exit the prison, and the night air strikes Kimblee's face. Before them rises Laboratory Number Five—silent, ominous, like a wound forcibly sealed shut. Kimblee studies it carefully, wearing a smile that cannot quite hide a certain childlike anticipation. Whatever awaits him there, he knows one thing for certain: it will not be boring.
As he walks forward, his thoughts return to that sound that never left him—the plea, the final break, the instant when a soul understands there is no escape. Kimblee takes a deep breath.
Peace, he thinks, is just another form of silence before the next explosion.
And he walks toward it with shining eyes, convinced of one thing alone: what comes next will, without a doubt, be entertaining.
(End of the Chapter)