WARNING: Will contain graphic violence, fowl language, and some sexual content.
DETAILS: This story takes place five years after Edward Elric's disappearance in the 2003 anime, with some slight alterations: Roy still has both eyes, and when Alphonse returns to his body, he is still 17 years old.
I HAVE NOT watched FMA: Brotherhood. Any correlations to that arc are merely coincidental. This is not a crossover.
My surface is myself.
Under which
to witness, youth is
buried. Roots?
...Everybody has roots.
- William Carlos Williams
Chapter 1: Overture
It is just a quiet hum at first, hardly noticeable, like the dull purring of an engine from a couple blocks away. His heart leaps into his throat and he looks towards the sky, which is perpetually painted a disheartening shade of gray. A flock of birds take flight, gliding across the silvery expanse like black, shattered glass – they don't make a sound. Another flock soon follows. And then another.
The street, once buzzing with the energy of everyday affairs, grows quiet. The mechanical droll becomes louder. One by one, the pedestrians crane their necks towards the dreary February sky as their ears catch the sound – even the shopkeepers come out of their stores to look up.
That's when the sirens begin to sound. They crescendo into an ominous, chilling wail that echoes throughout the city. But it's too late- the sirens are too late-
'We are all going to die.'
Somewhere, a baby begins to cry.
As if snapping out of some sort of hypnosis, the civilians scatter, like roaches in the light.
The gravel crunches under his boot clad feet as he runs for his life; his lungs burn as he rounds the street corner – where can he go, where can he hide- but once the apocalyptic whistling begins, he knows it's over. The bombs coalesce through the air, crashing into the ground like giant exploding raindrops, and the world gives a great, horrible tremble that sends his body careening forward. When he hits the unforgiving pavement, the ground suddenly buckles beneath him; ravenous fire consumes the world, brimstone cascades to the ground as buildings collapse, and shrieks of terror pierce the air.
His lungs fill with smoke and the sky burns an angry red.
That's when it becomes dark.
The door opens without a sound.
A shadow stretches over the woman's desk and extends over her sitting frame, but she doesn't notice. After a moment, she blearily looks up from the paperwork which she has been studiously examining for the past hour. Her hand, but a blur to the human eye, immediately races for the pistol strapped to her flank; the familiar nickel-plated handgun greets her fingertips like an old friend.
Her reflexes are quick and precise; meticulously honed through years of repetition. The gun is aimed at her assailant's forehead and her index finger is poised against the trigger, ready to squeeze at the slightest provocation. The unwelcome visitor's hands rise slowly, submissively.
"I'm not here to hurt you," the unfamiliar visage reassures in a gravelly, distinctly male voice, seemingly undaunted by the woman's hostility.
Her dust-colored eyes narrow into slits, but her aim does not waver.
"Oh, so that's why you snuck into my office without knocking," she says, voice laced with sarcasm. "Tell me who you are. You have five seconds or my gun will answer for you."
"I'm here to help you," the stranger promptly concedes.
Her lips curl back into a snarl, "That's not the answer I'm looking for."
The resplendent sun that was once shining through the window is now obscured by the man's silhouette. In the light, he is tall, dark and featureless, enshrouded in some sort of thick cloak. His face is ensconced by a heavy hood that covers all but his mouth.
"My life is forfeit as it is; you'd only be doing me a favor by killing me," he whispers.
At that, her demeanor shifts.
One valuable lesson that she has learned throughout her time on this Earth is that a man who has nothing to lose is extremely dangerous.
"And what is your message?"
She sprints down the hall as fast as she can.
"Within the next 24 hours the General will be dead or worse, unless you listen very carefully to what I have to say."
This catches her attention.
The door slams loudly against the wall as it is flung unceremoniously open. The din pierces the silence, but she takes no heed of it. Her superior, now wide awake from his nap, abruptly sits up and curses.
"Oh, it's only you - listen, about that paperwork from yesterday, I was actually just about to stop by your office to give it to you but I-"
"From last week, you mean," she growls, twitching.
"They are a relatively small group of rebel alchemists that would normally be considered inconsequential. However, a benefactor has recently provided them with the means to execute their plans. "
"We have no fear of guns here," Riza counters.
"They weren't given guns," the man bites back, as if it is obvious, "otherwise I wouldn't be here."
"Hawkeye!" The dark-haired alchemist stammers as he is roughly grabbed by the sleeve and tugged to his feet. "What are you-"
"We need to leave Central immediately, General," She says firmly, feeling uncomfortable about being so abrupt.
"Then… what were they given?"
"Knowledge," the word hangs heavily in the air.
"Knowledge?" She echoes hollowly.
"The kind of knowledge that can destroy entire civilizations, if left unchecked. You know what I'm talking about, I'm sure – unless you need me to spell it out for you?"
"What do you mean, leave? I've got an important meeting scheduled tonight... with the loveliest creature on two legs..."
Riza fixes Roy with a look so chilling that makes his teeth click shut.
"Meet me at the train station in two hours. I'll be in the third car from the front. Don't bother packing anything, just make sure that you change into normal clothes get a move on. It is imperative that no notices you. Take these. "
"Please, sir, there isn't very much time to explain," Riza thrusts a rectangular piece of paper in Mustang's face. She normally doesn't proceed to make decisions unless she is fully informed, but when the safety of the General comes into question, she knows she must act quickly.
Roy snatches the piece of paper out of his subordinate's hand, scrutinizes it, and then looks up with serious frown.
"Train tickets?" He frowns. "What is this about?"
"You expect me to trust you? How am I supposed to know that this isn't some sort of trick? "
"If I wanted to kill you I would have attempted to by now, don't you think?" He replies plainly. "It's up to you to decide."
Riza holds the train tickets in her open palm, "I don't think-"
"But before you make up your mind, I'd like to ask you a question."
Riza glances up at this, eyebrow drawing upwards in question.
"Do you know a someone by the name of Edward Elric?"
Her face grows solemn.
"You mean The Fullmetal Alchemist... of course. We… we worked together," She clears her throat and squares her shoulders, regaining her composure. "It will pain you to know that he is dead."
They stare at each other silently for several moments, before the man speaks up.
"If you get on this train, not only will I make sure that you and the General are safe, I will tell you where Edward is."
They awkwardly walk into Central Station at 2:40 wearing civilian clothes and hats. The crowd pulses around them; people are bustling in every which direction, towing luggage of various shapes and sizes. Trotting happily ahead of them is Black Hayate, who sniffs at the air and looks back at his owner curiously, tongue cutely lolling out of his mouth.
"Are these hats necessary, sir?" Riza asks under her breath, tucking a long, loose strand of hair beneath her cap.
"You're the one that said we needed to dress in civilian clothes. Not me. And do we really need to bring the fleabag with? He's going to shed everywhere - why not just leave him at Sciezkas?" The insinuating tone in his voice ignites a fiery blush across Riza's cheeks.
She coughs into her hand, clearing her throat.
"Dogs are extremely intuitive creatures. If we can't trust this man, he'll let us know," she kneels down and scratches the dog's ears affectionately, ignoring her partner. "Won't you, boy?"
Roy rolls his eyes and continues to scour the station for their train.
"Over here, Hawkeye," The Flame Alchemist effortlessly weaves his way through the crowd, heading towards the south side of the station. A second train waits there, hissing as the chimney belches a cloud of smoke.
When she looks up, Roy is gone. Panic briefly takes hold – apparently their hats really do make for good camouflage. She spins on her heel, eyes darting through the crowd. After several moments of dizzying confusion, she spots the General and trots over, Black Hayate in tow.
"Sir, I would appreciate it if you did not go wandering off by yourself. It could be dangerous," her face is flushed with anger.
"Right," Roy replies distractedly.
"May I see your ticket please, ma'am?" The train's conductor, having materialized out of nowhere, asks politely. He's a rotund man with rosy cheeks, a dark mustache, and twinkling eyes that are almost violet in hue.
The fierce-looking woman mindlessly fishes out the two tickets from her breast pocket and hands them to the conductor, who briefly scans the pieces of paper.
"The second ticket is for him," she nods towards the ebony-haired general, who is already boarding the train.
"Oh, I figured as much... well, you two enjoy your trip," The conductor winks and hands the tickets back, smiling pleasantly.
She takes the tickets, eyeing her partner wearily before looking down.
"Excuse me, but I think you forgot to punch our tickets-" She asks and glances up, but the conductor is gone.
Upon boarding the train, the first thing to assail her senses (other than the abrupt shift in light) is the overpowering smell of cinnamon and perfume – the kind of perfume that elderly women are prone to douse themselves with.
"It stinks in here," Riza cringes and covers her nose, having never been a fan of overwhelming fragrances. Black Hayate gives a little whine of agreement as they walk down the thin hallway of the train, heading in the direction of the third car.
"So, who is this guy exactly?" The dark-haired alchemist inquires, still not completely satiated by Riza's brief overview of the current situation.
Riza's eyes dart back and forth as they traverse the train, inspecting each passenger for signs of suspicion.
"To be frank, sir, I'm not entirely sure myself," she answers honestly, "but he apparently knows about the location of these terrorists, and…"
She pauses, unsure.
"…And what?" Roy coaxes with a frown.
"Well, he claims that he also knows the location of…" The doubt in her voice is palpable, "Edward Elric."
Roy freezes, eyes widening.
"That's not possible."
Riza turns toward her superior, resisting the urge to lay a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder.
"Nothing is impossible, surely you know that by now," she whispers. "Either way, your safety is currently number one on my priority list, sir. We can worry about that later."
When Riza slides the door to the third car open, she holds a hand up, signaling Roy to stand back while she checks the vicinity. As casually as one possibly can with their hand nonchalantly resting on the handle of their gun, Riza peruses the seemingly empty room.
She almost misses him. The cloaked man sits in the very last seat of the train car, staring out the window. Dyed a dark, warm shade of brown, the cloak's fabric seemingly allows him to blend in like a chameleon. She approaches with caution.
"I'm going to have to check you for any weapons, sir," She says firmly to the stranger, who wordlessly stands and turns, holding his arms out in acquiescence. Her hands trace his sides swiftly, patting up and down his thighs, inner thighs, and then his arms. "May I see your hands, please?"
He holds out his hands. Riza scans the callused skin for transmutation circles, turns his palms up, pulls up the fabric of his cloak make sure there are none on his forearms, and drops his hands. The last thing she does is scan under the train seats. There's nothing there, either.
"You're clear to come in, General." Satisfied with her search, the woman waves Roy over.
"I'm glad you showed up," the stranger appraises after several moments of silence. He pulls down his hood, revealing his face. "You're certainly smarter than you look."
It takes a split second for all hell to break loose.
A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter.