Lust thanked whatever god it was that watched over homunculi that she had ben crashed into by a pervert. It made things so much easier. She could get what she wanted out of a man who thought with his libido. It was practically her speciality.

"Yes," she repeated, her smile widening some. It took on a flirtatious cast. She kept her hand on his wrist, applying just a hint of gentle pressure. "I have some questions. What is this place, and what are these uniforms? And if you know the answer, how did I come to this place and why? I was...in a warehouse before. It was raining."

And I was dead.

That was the thing that truly didn't make sense. She had been bound, sealed and pierced through her heart with a blade. She had died.

"Oh goodness," she went on, tilting her head down coquettishly. "Where are my manners? I'm Lust."