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Groebel scrambled along, Luger in hand as he made his way over the treacherous no-man's land between the Soviet troops and the Reichstag. The Waffen Guard he had taken with him had just had his head shattered by a stray round, and he was eager to avoid the same fate, hugging the cover as he made his way to the ruins. Possibly, in there, there could be some remaining Shamballans...

He clambered over a small crater, gradually drawing closer to the trench system where the building had appeared, and caught a flash of blue moving in a foxhole. He dashed to another piece of rubble, staring down and for a split-second noticing his quarry: a man and a woman, both officers, in brilliant blue uniforms. The female officer noticed him and rapidly raised her pistol, while his mind sprinted along, quickly picking up on her perfect Aryan features, the blonde hair and amber eyes, a spirit of elation rising as he began to offer a hand to this woman taking careful aim at him, before recoiling.

She was bleeding.

And, looking into her eyes, he thought he noticed lingering fear too.

How could these... Shamballans be anything more than human?
He felt despair hit him. The Shamballans were ultimately just as human as anyone else, and for that reason, they could never save the Reich. The despair quickly faded along with the world, as a flash of pain sparked through his mind, before it too vanished, leaving nothing but the sniper's round lodged in his skull.

The Russian casually etched another marking onto the brick in front of him, before raising the rifle once more. Zaitsev would be proud.

**

Riza quickly threw herself back down as the man's head exploded, cursing inwardly that she hadn't realised the threat towards her charge sooner. She looked around, searching for some place where she could hide him from whoever it was that was fighting. The large building behind them, which, she assumed, had once been a government building, looked more like a fortress, with a few banners bearing crosses of some kind being torn by shrapnel, while harrying fire was tearing from every window, into the forces across the square.

Mustang peeked over the brow of the crater at the advancing troops. They wore great-coats, and carried banners of red with golden symbols. Behind them, monstrous tanks churned the ground, guns bellowing at the building, while white trails soared over buildings with a terrifying wailing, lighting up the city around them with explosions. He ducked down again, looking back at her as she did the same.

"We have to get out of their way."

Riza nodded, looking back over her way as the chattering roar of rifles and machine-guns increased, noticing that standing off to the side of the building, there was a small forest of some decription. She pointed to it, and he nodded, trusting her instincts.

Just as he had when she had needed to protect him from Archer.

She pushed the memories of guilt from her mind quickly, sternly reminding herself that the middle of a battlefield was not the right place for personal reflection, as they set off over the rubble, making sure to stay low and out of the arcing fields of fire lying across the plaza.

**

Fuery was exhausted- they all were. Hughes had led them right out of the square, and into the sewer system, but still they could hear the constant rumbling and chattering of the city's demise, echoing as it did through the vast networks into which they had lowered themselves. Hughes had quickly run on ahead, so he rested the butt of his rifle on the sewer wall, and leaned against it, ignoring the slime encrusted on the bricks where he had put his shoulder. Falman looked back at him, sympathetically holding out an arm.

"Come on, this city can't be much bigger..."

"Yeah... it's nothing compared to Armstrong's as- I mean abs..." Breda grumbled as he ran past them, trying to keep their spacing constant.

"I heard that, Breda!" Rockbell yelled back at him.

"Very sorry, sir, I didn't mean it."

"Next time I hear it, I'll get Mustang to dock your pay."

"Yes, sir."

The humour was somewhat appreciated amongst them, but without knowing where the hell they were, there was no way any of them could even think about pay or anything else so mundane compared to their survival. If this wasn't Amestris, was it Aerugo? Or Creta? Or any of the other fabled countries which lay to the East? Were they even on the same world?

Fuery heard Winry sighing, knowing that she was probably spending her few moments of respite thinking about Fullmetal. Since Ed had left, she had always had periods of deadly quiet, before joining in with great energy, but those silences... everyone under Mustang's command knew it best to let her sadly ponder what might have been.

Hughes eventually returned, and Fuery felt his strength recover. Alive or dead, Hughes was quite the motivator. None of them had even introduced themselves yet, and it seemed fairly clear that he recognised none of them, but there was little doubt that he was the same warm-hearted man that they all remembered.

Hughes slowly led them in silence through the sewer passage, as tramping and tank treads ground on above, until they reached a ladder leading up. He knocked three times on the pipe-lid, and it was opened, a relieved Gracia peering out.

"Thank God you'r..."

She was cut off by a loud rumble and the sound of a torrent.

"Fuck! They're flooding the sewers! Everyone up! Into the cellar!" Hughes hauled himself through in double time, grabbing the others as they made their way up. First Winry, then Falman, then Havoc, Scieska and Breda. The water now was flowing strongly, the current trying to drag Fuery from the ladder and sweeping weapons, helmets, bodies and belongings past him, as he tried to reach the last rung and that enticing hand held out by Hughes... Just a little further...

Then the debris of a metro carriage slammed into his side, and he fell under, losing his grip and feeling himself being swept away, his fading consciousness wondering how his parents would feel that he would die like this and not on the front-line.