Chapter 18 The Price of Return
The house was small—too orderly for someone who lived alone. Every piece of furniture was in its place; every object seemed to have been handled by careful hands, different from his own. The Silver Alchemist stood before the door for several seconds before daring to knock. The weight of months away—of wars that never stayed on the battlefield—pressed against his chest.
When the door opened, time seemed to stop.
His daughter looked at him without recognizing him at first. Then her eyes filled with tears.
"Dad…?"
There was no immediate embrace. Only silence—thick, heavy with everything that had gone unsaid since the end of the war. He stepped inside slowly, as if afraid of breaking something invisible.
"I've come for the necklace," he finally said, his voice breaking.
She instinctively touched her chest, where the crimson pendant hung.
"That's why you came back?" she asked through tears. "After months? After you disappeared… after Mom left…?"
The Silver Alchemist closed his eyes. The war had not only taken lives; it had stolen homes.
"I couldn't bear to see you like that," he murmured. "I didn't know how to come back."
The young woman's tears fell unchecked as, with trembling hands, she unclasped the necklace and handed it to him. In the red gleam of the stone there was no visible malice—only a deceptive beauty.
From the shadow of the hallway, Kimblee watched the scene with unsettling calm. When the stone was free, he stepped forward and took it delicately, like someone holding a work of art.
"Beautiful," he whispered.
He turned it between his fingers and then looked at Envy. His eyes shone with almost childlike excitement.
"Kimblee, no," Envy said at once, sensing the danger.
Kimblee laughed softly and, without warning, tossed the Philosopher's Stone to Envy.
"I've done my part, Homunculus," he said. "Now it's your turn to do yours."
Envy caught the stone clumsily, genuinely surprised.
"Not all humans are as unusual as you," he admitted, still shaken.
But there was no time for more words.
With a cry of fury and pent-up pain, the Silver Alchemist struck the ground and transmuted two gleaming swords. In a swift, precise motion, he lunged at Envy, severing both of his arms before he could react.
"This is for my family!" he roared.
In that instant of chaos, Kimblee did not hesitate. He leapt toward Envy, tore the Philosopher's Stone from his mutilated hands, and ran without looking back.
"You never change, you damned psychopath!" the Silver Alchemist shouted.
Kimblee glanced back briefly, smiling as he ran.
"Thank you, old war friend."
The Silver Alchemist remained standing, breathing heavily, before an Envy who was already beginning to regenerate. Fury still burned in his eyes when, suddenly, Envy appeared in front of him and knocked him out with a single blow.
"Damn old man," Envy said. "You're good… but not that good."
Then, without wasting any more time, Envy ran after Kimblee, while in that house—broken once again by war—silence fell like a sentence.
(End of Chapter)