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He slips into the wine cellar. All is just as he arranged.

He carefully scratches the transmutation circle into the door. Even if he is caught by someone else, he can seal the room off and blast his way outside. Not that trying again will ever be an available option.

No, he has to take out Bradley on the first try. Any leader will be better than a homunculus who will not die of age. And in the power grabs, maybe things will turn out better than his cynical mind could hope.

Maybe Elysia, Winry, and those kids Marcoh’d been helping in that village of his would have a fair shot at life.

It was suicidal and he knew it, but suicide by fuhrer was a lot better than the other options he had given himself over the long years since Ishbal.

He almost chuckles dismissively. All those years trying to shoot myself with that damn gun, and the one who picked the damn war in the first place is going to kill me.

He glances at himself for a moment in the end of a wine bottle, but all he can see it the glint from his blinking in the dim light.

He crouches beside the door to wait.