Russel approached the room, hesitant. But he knew he had to do this. Absolutely no ounce of him told him to not make himself aware of this information. As a scientist, as a brother, as a son, and as one of the few survivors of Amestris, he had to know the last minutes of his world. He glanced to Fletcher, and tried to keep a brave face on. But he really didn't know what to expect. Just as Fletcher had insisted on seeing it, Russel had insisted on going first.

Sure, the Nightmare King was gone, but that didn't mean Russel's own private nightmares had disappeared. But he didn't say that to Stacy.

He approached the chair, and gingerly sat in it, his slowness of movement the only sign of his hesitation. He knew Fletcher would see through his brave face, but it was as much of a defense mechanism as it was for his brother's sake. "Let's do this..." he said, trying to get comfortable in the chair.