i-n-v-i-d-i-a:

As of 26/3/81, Envy was the only homunculus left all over the world.

The creature had changed; many things had happened in those 166 years ever since his entire world had been once rescued and then torn apart, all by a certain alchemist, a legend of these days.

Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, 1899-1967, as read his gravestone now.

It was an obscure story; they were enemies and as long as they’d remained such - they were together, at least as far as opposites could ever be. It was a game - a game of bittersweet feelings and sweaty, sleepless nights, of venomous hate and distorted affection. It was destructive, for both of them, but the amount of pain they felt wasn’t nearly enough to tip the scales, on the other pan of which lied that strange, irresistible magnetic-like force that kept the monster and the human side by side.

It lasted until the very Day of Reckoning, when the Father had fallen from the hands of Edward Elric and his allies. It was the day Envy’s world was shattered into pieces. In the hubbub of the humans’ victory, overwhelmed with hatred, fear and despair, Envy disappeared for 22 years.

But the force was still there.

And thus by the time the homunculus returned, Edward Elric was neither a teenage boy nor an alchemist anymore; he was living peacefully with his wife, daughter and a son; and was about to forget the forever young, cruel creature whom he had given his heart to and who never gave it back.

Not human morals, not the past experience had stopped them. It was about hurting and forceful endearing, just as before, only now it was spiced with revenge: one was paying for leaving the other one alone, and the second one suffered for being the human the former loathed everything about yet couldn’t stay away from. 

It wasn’t love, at the very least not the human kind of love.

And it had ended in tragedy; Edward’s family had broken and he was destroyed by that for he did love his wife (differently from how the loved the monster), he loved his children whom she had taken away with herself.

Envy didn’t kill the man physically but he had ripped his soul apart. It was the  homunculus’ goal.

He succeeded. 

And now, many, many years later, he was once again dwelling in the world of humans under countless masks - lonesomely, aimlessly, - with the only entertainment left in developing new ways of playing tricks with people, murderous tricks.

One might assume that the time had knocked the last bits of sanity from Envy the Jealous’ head and one’d be right. The sin had found a way to get around his own Philosopher’s Stone’s immune system to be able to drown himself in a narcotic haze - the only effective way to dumb his never-ending stress and depression. He didn’t give a damn about it making his Stone glass-like fragile. 

Ironically, even those moments when Envy lied on the crumpled bed, half-dead from the amount of heavy smoke in his lungs, among the dim, delirious images  there always was a figure of either a blond boy in a red cloak or a blond man with a scar on his right shoulder.

These moments, Envy raises his head up, hardly focusing his decolorized lavender eyes, and mutters almost incoherently, 

“Why wouldn’t you leave me alone?”

 The look on the ghost’s face was always the same: sad, pitying.