I should have known better, but I was reckless back then. The transmutation didn't work for Hohenhiem's and my son that we conceived over 200 years ago, why would this one have worked? I have seen the effects of what such an experiment can do to a once sound and dead body, and how it resurrects into a "lifeless doll." Still, even though I knew deep in my heart that it would fail, I couldn't help but try. This man I once loved was nothing like Hohenhiem at the time. He may have known nothing of alchemy or the Law of Equivalent Exchange, but I couldn't help but be attracted to him back then. In the end though, I had to settle for another pawn. Heavens no, I couldn't even have that either.

It was back then, sometime in the late 1600s, I can't honestly remember for the life of me anymore, that a long war occurred between Amestris and the allied forces of the foreign countries of Creta and Aerugo. The combined power of Creta and Aerugo devastated Amestris. I decided not to get involved with this war, as I still had a long time before that body would deteriorate. Still, Marcus F. Vetrelli never went off to battle as the other men did, even though he was drafted. I've always thought to this day that wars are pointless, and this one was no exception. I suppose it was because of his rebellious nature and his charming looks that made me feel compassion for him.

I guess you could say I first met him in an underground gambling ring, as gambling was illegal at the time. I had received a letter from an anonymous writer, saying he was a famed alchemist of the region; there was an address on it for where he partook late nights at. The address I was given was of a dilapidated building with smoke pouring out … and a shriek. Curious, I went to examine the scene, expecting it could have been a small fire that had ignited. When I had entered though, I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Damn Richie, you beat me again!" said a man, pushing his cards back to the dealer. It had simply been smoking gamblers, eager to win a fair share of money before the day ended. I then went around and asked where I might find this accomplished alchemist, but they simply all shrugged. I eventually walked up to a somewhat tall, slim-built yet strong, black haired man. He had an outlandish hairstyle and a personality that fit with it: a dangerous man. "Are you the alchemist that this town has been up in arms about?" I asked. "Oh heavens no my dear: I find a study dreadfully dull; you couldn't get me to an alchemist book if my life depended on i-" "Thank you for your time." But just as I was about to move on "… I am the one who wrote you that letter," he said smugly. "I couldn't help but receive a chance to speak to such a beautiful woman as yourself. I had heard you were looking for a skilled alchemist. I knew 'hell, I'm not one at all,' but I knew I had to meet you at some point, so I went out of the way to write that letter for you and bring you here." My newest body at the time, was for the most part one of my better choices. I thought at first he was simply another pimp, but he was more then that. He said sweet words that swept me off my feet like never before, and asked me out for dinner. I couldn't refuse.

The next night I was expecting a night at some upper-class banquet hall, for which I mostly went to by myself, but it was something completely out of the ordinary. He took me to a bar called the Dragon's Snare. I was infuriated that he'd take me to such a low-life drab, but he remarked kindly to me "Now now, don't judge a book by its cover my dear; it is actually more quaint than outside appearances let on." I gave him a chance to show me, as I knew alchemy was the same way: there was far more to it then the leathery covers let on. It turned out to be an enjoyable time, and I fell for him. He was an oddity of his time, and that was what I loved in a man: something new and voracious. We became fast lovers for awhile … that was, until his death.

It was on a spring night in April that he took me on a carriage ride through the park. It must have cost him a boatload. I perceive that he had a lot more money then he was letting on to, and that he was trying to hide a more richly kingdom he had inherited. But with the bright stars and his radiant and trusting face, I didn't even think twice about his financial caste. "I never want to leave you," I pronounced to him. But then, the night quickly changed from beautiful to grisly. Four riders came galloping towards us at a tremendous speed.

"That's the man, after him!" yelled one of the soldiers. As I looked behind me, I had expected foreign cavalry … not local enforcers. The carriage driver stopped the ride, but as he did, Marcus jumped into the driver's seat and pushed the driver off. "I won't let them harm you, my love!" he proclaimed as he whipped the horses at a tremendous speed. Yet still, the carriage was too heavy to make a successful escape, and the soldiers were catching up to us. Marcus quickly lost control, and the horses somehow broke free from the carriage. We toppled over.

Mr. Vetrelli tried to make a successful escape by foot, but was instantly trampled down by hooves of the massive steeds. Drawing out their swords, they all pointed them at his face. He knew he could run no more, and was completely surrounded. And so they arrested him, claiming he must have been an Aerugonian Spy as he was one of the few Amestrian men to refuse the draft. Back then there was no appropriate court system of any kind, and he would be killed. They didn't kill him by any normal means however: they drenched him with alcohol and lit him on fire. At the time I was grateful that I wasn't a spectator during his day of execution. He was allowed a proper funeral, at my own expense.

I couldn't continue to live. For once in my life I truly felt like I was dying. Physically I had felt it many times, but not emotionally. True love I pondered could never break me apart from this man. I had to bring him back ... I just knew I had to! "Where I went wrong with the bastard son Basel, I will not go wrong here!" I was too blind that I had forgotten the truth behind all truths: human transmutation was, and will never be, possible. I went to the graveyard where he was buried, and opened his casket. I found that all his flesh and muscles were burned up, and all his blood dried. All that was usable was a pile of bones.

I went about gathering the ingredients that Hohenhiem once used to try and resurrect Basel, along with a few other ingredients I conceptualized would work. Another trip to The Gate I went, offering it yet another gift. In the end though, only what came of it all was simple: an undead abomination. Out of my own desperation to see him again, I fed him red stones so that he might at least look like the one I had fallen in love with, just as I had with my son. And so the second homunculus was born, and I gave him the name Greed. All he ever did care was for himself from that day forward. He looked at me as only a tool to give him what he desired most: Money, Power, and Immortality.