Cut to the previous night: A Retroactive Flashback

"Father. Pride told me that you needed to speak with me," said the Führer, upon entering his Father's lair and approaching the man's throne. Externally, the seventh son and the manifestation of his Father's fury appeared entirely collected, calm and respectful, but truthfully his core was burning in anger. He had just finished all of his duties for the day and was prepared to turn in for the night with his lovely wife, only to get interrupted by his 'son,' telling him to trapes all the way down here.

What could Father want to talk about so fucking late into the night, anyway!?

"Wrath," said the Homunculus patriarch, as flatly as ever, "I want humans to start breeding en masse. What would you say is the most efficient way to do this?"

"I... w-what?" Wrath's stony exterior suddenly reddened, as his mouth fell in surprise.

"From a policy point of view, I mean?" continued Father, oblivious to his son's shock, "How can our government best achieve a boost in Amestris' fertility rates as effectively as possible, without raising suspicion?"

"W-wha...?" Wrath burbled, his brain short-circuiting. This was absolutely not the conversation Wrath thought he would be having tonight. Certainly not with Father, of all people: "W-w-why... are you... suddenly so interested in... something like that?"

"Well, obviously," Father began, seemingly exacerbated with having to explain himself, as though the reason for his question was as clear as water in a glass, "The Promise Day is only a year away. I want to have the most energy available to me at the time of the eclipse and, in regards to human souls, the youngest have the most remaining lifeforce and, therefore, the most energy to give. So, now's the best time for a spike in human offspring."

"W-ou... W-wouldn't you say... Lust would be a better person to ask about this?"

"Lust is tied up in her own work in the East right now. Besides, I'm speaking to your unique expertise as a human-based homunculus. Lust may know how to take advantage of human weaknesses like carnal desire, but you have lived through those desires yourself. The Doctor told me all about you and the other candidates during your days as young teenagers and how excitable you'd get around the female scientists. Plus, you manage to do the deed with your wife still, correct?"

"Can we not talk about this, please?" Wrath stumbled and nearly lost his footing entirely in sheer embarrassment.

"Look, Wrath, that weakness of yours is vital to me now. Use that experience to help me, because I was originally thinking forced breeding camps."

"Okay..." Wrath breathed and rubbed the back of his neck, not enjoying this awkward conversation, "I think... most people wouldn't like that. We're too close to our goal now and overreaching on something like... that... it would definitely encourage rebellion. Humans tend to do the opposite of what their told is best for them."

Father hummed and nodded in agreement, before ushering his son to continue.

"We could... maybe become a little more lax in our policies in the military and day-to-day life. It would be best to show a s... s-sex positive attitude from the government and let the top... l-lead by example, instead of forcing the populous. We should be presenting se- uh... population growth as a positive thing. A means to rebuild communities affected by our wars."

"I see... Okay..." Father hummed, rubbing his beard in thought, "So... how would you do this? Like... topless uniforms?"

"Maybe... we can start with something a little more subtle?" said Wrath, "The female personnel wear skirts, for example. We can make skirts mandatory for all female officers. Short ones, you know, that show off the ladies' legs?"

At that moment, the Führer stopped himself, blushing deeply once again, ashamed to have accidently lost himself in the fantasy.

"I can't say I understand your same fascination," replied Father, secretly more of a fan of big boobs himself, "but I'll accept your judgement. Tomorrow, you'll make it happen. You can go now."

"Oh thank fuck!" said Wrath, never having been more relieved to be dismissed before in his 40 years as Father's puppet Führer, "I mean... Thank you, Father. I live to serve."

At that, he turned and walked as quickly as he could out of Father's sight and then hightailed it back to the surface as fast as his athletic body could take him. By the time he made it back home, he was sweating bullets and gasping, in a rougher shape than any battle he'd ever fought it.

"Darling!" cried his wife, donned in her nightdress and looking at him with immense concern, "What happened?"

"Don't worry, Dear. I'm fine... Just got some last-minute work stuff to do."

Back to the present,

"They can not be serious!? Guys! You have to see this," cried Fuery, holding a document.

Mustang checked the time. 17:04.

Now was the time. He watched the men crowd around the paper and guffawed like excitable wolves, reading it over.

It wasn't until Lieutenant Hawkeye walked over to take it, much to the primal fear of her colleagues, that Mustang was able to find out what was written, as she was kind enough to read it aloud:

"'According to statistical analysis, our population growth has been impacted in the act of keeping our borders safe' blah blah blah 'to fight against this struggle, we must fight to grow our population and move beyond petty sensibilities' blah blah blah 'To lead by example with this message, the Führer hereby... revokes the code that condemns relationships between military personnel' Huh, that's interesting. 'In addition, all female officers will be required to wear...' WHAT!!!? NO WAY IN HELL AM I GOING TO WEAR 'TINY MINI SKIRTS'!"