Chapter #4: Where the Light Cannot Reach
The metal of the vehicle creaked softly.
Kimblee leaned his head out through the side opening, completely ignoring the soldiers' shouts and the chaos erupting outside. His eyes shone with almost childlike excitement. He smiled with fervor.
Before him, the battlefield had become an impossible stage.
Pride's shadows moved like living creatures—stretching, twisting, attacking from angles that should not exist. Each strike landed with lethal precision, seeking to carve a path toward the convoy.
And in the midst of it all—
Basque Grand endured.
The Iron Alchemist stood firm, his feet anchored to the ground like a living fortress. Every blow from the shadows was stopped by metal plates erupting from the earth and even from the air itself. Iron answered his will as if it were an extension of his own body.
Kimblee watched, fascinated.
—Impressive… —he murmured—. Sending someone like you just to escort me.
Pride remained at a distance, his figure partially swallowed by the unnatural darkness surrounding him. His eyes tracked every movement—analyzing, calculating.
Clear orders, he thought.Recover the Philosopher's Stone… or kill Kimblee.
Basque stepped forward.
He slammed both hands into the ground with brutal force.
The iron trembled.
From the earth, thick, heavy metal cannons began to rise, all aimed directly at the mass of shadows. The ground cracked beneath the strain of twisting metal being born.
Basque smiled.
—This is as far as you go, creature.
With a single gesture—
All the cannons fired at once.
The light was blinding. A brutal detonation shook the field, throwing dust, earth, and fragments of glowing iron into the air. The shockwave forced the soldiers to shield their faces.
Pride's shadows scattered momentarily, torn apart by the light.
Pride stepped back.
The light had hurt him.
But not enough.
When the glare faded, Pride was no longer in front of Basque.
He was behind him.
—You're good —he said calmly, almost respectfully—. Very good.
Basque barely had time to turn his head.
—But this isn't about you, Alchemist.
A sharp blow struck the back of his neck.
Basque collapsed to the ground without a sound.
Before the soldiers could react, the shadows moved again—fast, precise strikes. One by one, the guards were knocked unconscious, crumpling into the dust of the road.
The battlefield fell silent.
Pride slowly turned toward the vehicle.
—Kimblee —he called.
His voice echoed as if it came from everywhere at once.
—Kimblee.
The vehicle's door opened.
Kimblee stepped out calmly, still in chains, smiling as if this were a private performance staged solely for him.
—I don't know who you are —he said lightly—, but I assume you're here for the Philosopher's Stone.
Pride did not answer.
He attacked.
A shadow lunged straight at Kimblee, sharp as a spear. Kimblee reacted on pure instinct—twisting his body, forcing the movement—and the shadow struck the chains around his ankles.
CRACK.
The shackles shattered.
Kimblee's eyes widened for a brief instant, surprised.
Then he smiled even wider.
—Oh… that helps.
With an agile roll, he leapt fully out of the vehicle and landed on his feet on the road. Pride advanced, shadows stretching like starving tendrils.
Kimblee ran.
He slid behind another overturned vehicle and, without hesitation, dropped to one knee. His hands moved quickly, tracing an imperfect, rushed—but functional—transmutation circle.
The shadow loomed over him.
—I found you —Pride said.
Kimblee pressed his palm against the circle.
—Then watch closely.
BOOM.
An explosion erupted from nothingness. Light, fire, and compressed force detonated in front of Pride, blinding him momentarily. The shockwave snapped the cuffs still binding Kimblee's wrists.
The chains fell to the ground.
Free.
Kimblee rose slowly, dust and smoke swirling around him. His smile was wide, sincere—almost grateful.
—I don't know who you are —he repeated—, but I already told you. I don't have the Stone.
He stepped forward.
—It was destroyed during the last act of service I performed.
The shadows recoiled slightly.
Pride emerged from the smoke, more cautious now. His eyes did not blink.
—I believe you —he said at last.
And in the same motion—
The shadows lunged again toward Kimblee, faster, more violent.
The music had begun to play once more.
(End of Chapter)