It begins with a nightmare.

I want to make myself believe that's it's only a dream; I want to make myself believe it's only fantasy, that it's not real, that it's all made up. That when I wake up, I'll find myself in my room, I'll find myself at home, I'll find myself with my friends, my family- my brother.

That it will all just be forgotten. Insignificant, a flash of a moment, something that will be lost as I go among my day on the Earth- my Earth.

I want to forget. I want to move on.

But I cannot.

It starts, it begins- in whiteness.

There's nothing- absolutely nothing- for what feels like forever. It feels surreal. To my left, nothing, to my right, nothing, to my back, nothing, to my front, nothing, just nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing-

It's blank.

Nothing.

I try to see beyond, but I can't. For what seems like forever, the bareness stretched on for miles and miles and miles- there isn't even a horizon. Just a whiteness that lasts forever and ever.

I don't even know if I'm standing, or lying, or floating; there's nothing telling me what's going on. The shuffling of my feet doesn't help at all.

The whiteness is blinding, and, oddly, deafening. If there was anything beyond the maddening whiteness, It would've been impossible for me to sense it, for the Whiteness and Nothingness drowned everything out, ate everything up, and it was the only, single, thing that dominated.

I am afraid.

My heart races; my breathing heaves. It's the only thing I can hear, the only thing I can see. Myself- and the Whiteness.

Where am I? What is this? This is only a dream, so why does it feel so weird, so different, and just straight out, undeniably wrong and sick-

Then there is a Gate.

I don't know how it appears or how it comes to be. But, suddenly, it is there, looming before me, high and tall and mighty and holy, almost as if it were a countering force to the Whiteness, the Nothingness, and I would've liked it- but it seems to be at home in the Nothingness. It's a force to be reckoned with, and I am intimidated. I can't help but step back, horrified.

It doesn't look too much like a Gate, in the literal sense, like the gate that stands before my home; instead, it is two large stone tablets, standing cold and gray in the expanse. Patterned with intricate carvings, echoing towards an image of a tree, with too many circles and symbols I can't even begin to understand, it casts no shadow.

I stare at it- the Gate radiates an energy I don't understand, one I've never felt before, one I've never sensed before; it's like a heat, but so much more intense and powerful, and there's just something about it that makes my very being, my very soul, tremble in fear.

I am scared.

Then there's a voice, a chilling, a dark, an echoing and powerful voice- it calls my name.

"Haylin Riddle."

I flinch in fear, and I whip around. My eyes are wide, my body is tense; I look like a wild, cornered animal.

And then I see… It.

It's body is completely white, radiating a black aura that surrounds It's entire body (and I am faintly glad for this aura, for if it didn't exist it probably would've been impossible to see in this whiteness). Like the gate, it casts no shadow; It has no visible, defining features- other than Its silhouette- that shows It is human (is it even human?) or that It holds any kind of identity to call Its own- all It has is Its Chesire Cat grin, the grin that boasts, the grin that tells you that it knows more than you can even imagine. That it's something to be reckoned with- just like the Gate.

I don't have to ask to know what it is.

Truth.

The self-proclaimed 'god', the self-proclaimed 'everything', the self-proclaimed 'all is one, one is all', who claims to be me.

And I have crossed into Its dominion. Crossed into where no mortal may tread, where if they ever do, must pay a horrible, horrible, price.

And I am one of them.

I flinch, take two steps back, my breathing coming in gasps.

I am terrified.

It smiles. The grin burns my eyes, and it stretches, stretches, farther than humanly possible; a maddening grin, and I need to run away. Be anywhere but here.

It says my name again.

"Haylin," It tells me, "you know where you are, yes?"

I stare at It, incredulous. It continues.

"You do, don't you." The smile stretches farther. "Welcome to the Gate, puny mortal."

"The Gate," I murmur in an echo, almost in a hypnotic tone, then catch myself, sending It a glare. "What the freaking hell?"

There is a pause.

"That's interesting," It notes, "you cursed. You don't curse a lot, do you? No, you don't; it's surprising, considering how your best friend- Justice Torres- curses more than a sailor whenever she's… excited. Am I correct?" It doesn't sound as if It's asking a question; it's as if It knows so much more than It lets in, and is mocking me with tidbits of my life.

(A life, at the moment, don't know I may never get back to.)

I don't know how to respond. It feels too much like a dream, and as I continue to stare at It, my fear slowly erodes away, my mind slowly filling with a numbness, a feeling of slight dread and helplessness when you've given up, when there's nothing else to do but just lose yourself in the nothingness.

I don't know what's going on, but I say, "That's right."

It just nods, It's head bouncing up and down rhythmically, and my eyes follow It, almost monotonically. "Correct, correct," It goes, along with It's words; "you are correct." It smiles again.

"Haylin Riddle. Elder twin sister to Warren Riddle, and only daughter of Clara and Adan Riddle. Is of Filipino and French origin, with some Spanish, Indonesian, and Italian sprinkled in. A dirty blonde, darker than your father's. Dark brown eyes, like your mother's. Olive-toned skin, a combination of your parents' dark and fair skin. Only fifteen years old, and is currently attending the tenth grade in high school." It pauses, as if it's letting me process that.

I stare at It, blinking, then give It a goofy smile. "Wow, y'know a lot 'bout my family and my life and all. Pretty impressive."

It just chuckles. "You ignorant little child. You may know who and what I am, but you do not realize the purse significance, the absolute importance, of this moment, do you?"

I tilt my head. "Ahhh, no, not really." I pause. "But it's all a dream, isn't it? So I'm just gonna wake up, and everything's just gonna go away. Dreams aren't real. They have no connection to real life, that's stupid!" I feel drunk. I think I can outsmart it; it's just a dream, so what kind of intelligence can it really have? "I'm gonna forget all of this when I wake up. 'Cause it's just not real."

A chuckle vibrates from within the throat(?) of Truth, and It looks very amused. "Ignorance. Isn't that right? The natural, what you call the supernatural- it's all connected, it's all tied together tightly in threads, it's all one. It's a circle, a meaningless circle, a circle you cannot understand. Humans- you're afraid of what you cannot understand, cannot comprehend. Practically weaklings."

I don't understand where It is going, but then it booms: "Child! This is real! All the visions you hear of. All the prophesying you hear of. This- this is what you live in, right now. You've only scratched the surface! The multiverse is filled with things, not even I can begin to comprehend." A smirk, a maddening smirk, then: "Times are changing, my dear human; the Universes cannot adjust to this revolution, so it is bending, shaping, changing. And you've launched yourself into it."

I don't know what to say- what the actually fuck, this is freaking real?! This is a dream, this is a dream, this is a dream, this is just a dreAM-- but before I can do anything the gate swings wide open, and I see the single, most terrifying thing in my life- an eye. It's horrifying- it seems to manifest sin itself, its voidless, snake-like pupil zeroing down on me, narrowing with something I cannot understand. The void behind and beyond it is a black hole in itself- it emits no light, and instead it seems to swallow up everything that ever gets in its path.

Including me.

I feel a tug at my arms, and my hands automatically go forward, against my will- then my legs, then my entire being. I can't resist- it's not just at my body, but my mind; I'm losing myself, and I feel as if my existence is being torn apart at the seams, and I try to pull away, but to no avail. My vision begins to dull, to fade, to darken.

"D-don't I have to pay something? An arm? A leg?" I beg. I've never resorted to begging, in my life- but I want to get out of this, so so badly. "Can't you tell me anything-?!"

Truth just laughs. "That just ruins the fun in it. And you're cursing again, human." He doesn't bother to answer my first question.

"S-shut up!" I'm fading away- I don't even question how It knows my thoughts. My heart should be racing, but it's not there. The darkness starts to enfold my vision; I feel as if I'm going to die. "W-why me?! Why not someone else- I have a home, friends, family, a life- it isn't fair-!"

If It could, It would narrow It's eyes at me. "Ignorant mortal," it spits, "don't be selfish. Don't you understand that practically everyone else in your world is the same? There is no difference! And-and fair? What a stupid word- nothing is fair! This isn't your choice. Fate isn't your choice. It has already been chosen- and you think you can just ignore it? Pass it off, as if it were nothing, as if you actually had the power to do anything? Of course not! You have no say- that is the truth. And the Truth hurts, my friend." I don't know if It says anything more, for the next thing I know is that is that It's words are fading, fading- and it's gone, swallowed up by the hollow darkness.

And then I fall.

And then there is nothing.

"It's raining really hard, Haylin." My brother stands by the door. His face is masked by the shadows that tumble from the window, his bright blue eyes peeking from dirty blond locks.

"...W-Warren?" A rustle. I try to sit up, a bit startled by his arrival; the roughness in my voice, the raspiness in my tone, tells him I've been asleep- long asleep. He seems to back up a little at this, even when I continue to speak. "H-hey. Don't go. Warren- what's going on? It's raining- y-yeah, it is. What 'bout it?"

"I…" he hesitates, his gaze flickering away for the briefest of moments, and I can't see anything, only his small silhouette hovering at the door frame. "...I dunno. I-It just worries me, for some reason, that's all."

I'm confused, but he's my brother, my little brother- by only a handful of minutes, but still little- and with visible effort I heave myself up and forwards, turning on the lamp. We both flinch at the sudden, sharp, blinding light of that tiny little light bulb, startled, and with squinted eyes I watch as my brother makes his way towards me, sitting himself down at my bedside, his eyes downcast. "Haylin…"

I can't help but feel worried, and I try to get a better look at him, my eyes quickly shifting to the window, the rain beginning to drizzle faintly outside. "What is it?" With a smirk, I can't help but tease him, just to lighten the mood. "You scared of a little rain?"

He shoots me a look, legitimately irritated, his two blue eyes sharpening- a rare thing for him, and I shut my mouth, knowing that it wasn't the time or place. When he sees me startled, he sighs, looking away again. "Sorry, Haylie." He calls me by that childish nickname of mine, but for once, I decide not to comment. "It's just… I-I don't know. It sounds stupid, b-but- there's something- it's abnormal. It's not natural, this storm. I don't like it."

I raise an eyebrow. It's selfish, it's rude- but I'm a bit humored by him nervousness, somewhat entertained by his antiques. I don't believe him at all.

I can't. Why should I believe him?

But nevertheless I chuckle slightly, and pulling myself more out of bed, pulling the covers of my chest, I make my way closer to my brother, wrapping my arms around his chest and resting my chin on his shoulder, closing my eyes as a soft smile played on my lips. "C'mon. Let me hug you for a bit. Let big sis take care of ya. I'll scare all the ghosts away."

I can sense Warren rolling his eyes in slight embarrassment, but I could tell he likes it. He misses it (and I do, too). "You're older than me by only three minutes."

I laugh. "Still older."

A shuffling, the crinkle of sheets- and at first, I think he's pulling away, but I'm a bit surprised when he comes in closer, his hands holding onto mine. "We're fifteen, Haylin. We don't do this kind of thing anymore."

"Does it matter?" When he doesn't answer, I push it. "Hey- remember as kids, when we slept in the same bed until we were eight? You'd touch my nose every so often to see I was awake, and I'd get really annoyed. You didn't sleep as quickly as you do now; you stayed awake for hours, even after I'd been long asleep. And snoring." I get a small laugh out of that. I continue, my words floating over the soft drumming of the rain outside. "Remember that, Warren?"

I look up at him as he looks at me with a warm smile and a, "Of course. What made you think I forgot-"

Before he could finish, however, I startle him with a laugh, pulling him backwards as he screamed. "Then why can't we do it again?!" I grab his arms and we tumble backwards, and we find ourselves side by side and staring at the ceiling, covers a mess, our chests heaving with laughter.

"H-Haylin!" Warren's surprised, but I can tell he's enjoying it. "If mom and dad hears us-"

"They won't," I assure him, hitting him teasingly on his chest. "You worry head."

"Well." He huffs indignantly, and I can't help but grin madly as that mischievous streak of his surfaces. "You worry more than I do, and you know that- do I have that mad cleaning ritual every Sunday morning? Freaking out whenever guests come over, insisting that we painstakingly clean everything for hours before they even arrive? Even when it's just the sisters."

"Shut up!" I hit him again. "Cleaning is important! Sundays are important- new week, church, everything! It's only natural that they go together. And when people come it's important to have a good image."

Warren huffs again. "You're the same as ever."

I laugh. "Same goes to you, too, you know."

He heaves a long sigh, and I turn my head to see him wide awake, not even close to exhaustion, his eyes wide as he stared up at the ceiling, his hands resting on his chest where I had hit him. I quirk an eyebrow, my hand shifting to his as the rain begins to get heavy.

"...are you sure you're okay?" I'm concerned again.

He doesn't respond at first, but when the worry begins to creep in again he says, "I am. Thanks, Haylin." He smiled at me, that smile that melted girls' hearts when he was just five, that smile that despite how it lost its touch on everyone else, never managed to lose its touch on mine.

"But earlier-"

"Forget about earlier," he says before I can finish, but I can tell he doesn't really mean it. Thunder crashes outside, and the rain begins to become deafening. "I don't want you to worry."

I turn away. I don't want him to see me, and I glance outside; the rain is falling in sheets. "It's raining hard," I note lazily.

I can't see him, but his glare pricks my back. "Don't change the subject!"

A flash of light. Another boom. Thunder rolls outside.

"You said you didn't want me to worry," I counter, "so I'm not. I'm going with what you told me; what's so wrong with that?"

Warren falls silent. I look over at him to see him biting his lip; he's reconsidering his words. And I'm confused. My mind goes back to my initial confusion; what's so worrisome about this storm, anyway?

"...I still don't want you to worry," he finally says, his gaze flickering to mine, "but-but just know I am. I can't help it. Don't worry about me; I'll take care of this myself." His voice is shaky, and he continues, a nervous laugh sharpening his words. "Hey- maybe it's just for now, huh? I bet tomorrow we'll just laugh this off. No biggie."

The thunder screams, and light briefly fills up the room.

I can tell he doesn't believe himself. But this is for the sake of him. I can't have him worrying. So I pull him in closer, turn on my side and wrap my left arm around him.

I hope he feels my warmth. "Just go to sleep."

He's startled. "But-"

The boom outside startles us again. The rain pounds mercilessly against the roof. "Hey. Don't stress yourself out." Please, don't worry.

He senses the unspoken words; he goes silent for a moment, and for a brief second he doesn't do anything. But then I feel him relax, his body loosening into the bed. He turns to me, his eyes slowly softening; he's tired.

I smile at him, my smile and eyes echoing his. "Love you."

He chuckles. "Love you, too."

We both close our eyes, and we both fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms; but not before I whisper my last four words, before we drift into unconsciousness:

"See you tomorrow morning."

But we never did.

A/N: And there it goes- Chapter One. Hopefully, I didn't fail as badly as I think I did...

Okay, so let me go over a couple of things. First of all- you may notice how Truth is... a little out of character, possibly, showing more emotion than it (did you know I, for some reason, think of truth as a 'he' sometimes...?) usually does when you see it in the anime/manga whatever- as well as some of the thing it says. Trust me- it's all planned, it's all planned' you'll all see soon enough. I just jope that the initial and original personality of Truth is evident enough to show that it's Truth, but something different's up.

Also- a lot of you may not know me. I've never written for the Fullmetal Alchemist fandom, so- hallo and salutations, the name's Ten Reasons For Nothing, and I've mostly written for Hetalia before I wrote this story right here. Rather recently I've taken a break from fanfiction writing and went on to other things, mostly to polish my writing abilities- including running a fanfiction review blog and other things- but since school starts in just two weeks. and I'll be taking a Creative Writing class in my sophomore year, I've decided- after getting bombarded with plot bunnies- to start this one up and use it as practice, I suppose, throughout my school year.

For what feels like the first time, I've actually planned out this story. The outline, while it may not be exactly finished, goes in for a couple of chapters, so it's possible I may get the next chapter up quickly. This story, by the way, is an OC-into-the-FMA trope fic-but I've been trying to get a little new take on it, so... it's going to be different. I'll be focusing a lot on the character development of my own characters and certain OCs that live in the FMA world themselves, and not just on the entire 'adventure' thing with the Elrics and such. More or less, if you didn't catch what iIwas trying to say- in a can, I'm attempting a new angle at this trope. Hopefully, I'll be successful.

So... I suppose that's it. Thanks for finding the time to read my fanfiction, and read and review!

- Ten Reasons