"Are you insane?"

There was a large slam, followed shortly by flying papers and a spinning chair. A surprised man stood with a furrowed brow, staring straight ahead at the young boy who sat on the opposite side of his desk.

"N-No sir!" the boy exclaimed, trying to keep his nerves under control as he responded. He remained in his seat, almost ready to squirm. It was obvious he was nervous, and the man's outburst hadn't helped him calm down. "A-As I said, Vice General Ashton, I am willing to volunteer for the mission to-"

"I heard you the first time, boy!" the fuming man, Vice General Ashton yells, his hand balling up and slamming back onto his desk.

An older man, the Vice General was almost over the hill in age, the wrinkles on his forehead obvious with his anger. Course, they sat everywhere across his face, exaggerated when angry, but they came not from age but from experience on the battlefront. Ashton, to date, had gone through at least seventy confirmed battles with enemy, with victories out numbering losses. In return, he'd lost many men equal to how many hours he was kept up each night. He lost as many friends equal to how many years he'd been enlisted.

Yet, despite all of the things he'd been through, Ashton came forth as a notable leader with lots of respect from the others enlisted for his mental perseverance and bravery. With that experience, the Alliance had named him one of the highest ranking men, and the head of one of the seven branches.

But, what this boy, this simple low-level squad leader, was even volunteering for was something Ashton would have never done, even with his courage and experience. It was almost a suicide mission; in fact, that was sole reason why nobody had bothered to do it.

"Sir, I know I wouldn't be your first choice for this, but, I really think I can do It." the boy on the other side of Ashton's desk confirmed, his fingers interlaced with one another. His right foot taps steadily against the floor, echoing through the room.

Ashton frowns, taking his seat and composing himself. With a deep breath, he tried to look at the boy's request with a reasonable head. He had to put his request equal to everyone else, despite his heritage and skill-sets. And, the obvious of it being his ONLY request to take on the mission.

"Squad Leader," Ashton finally spoke softly. "Redford, you're only a Squad Leader. You're barely even in the system…"

The boy, Redford, gives a simple nod. The innocence in his eyes was apparent, despite his growing number of deployments on the current battlefront. At his age, he shouldn't have been in as many battles as he had. Maybe it was his talented squadron which he was supposed to lead. Maybe it was his perseverance that seemed to come with his many failures. Or maybe...it was just the name.

"Yes, and I know you wanted a Colonel or even a General," Redford replies, his eyes darting around nervously, unable to keep still. He still hadn't relaxed. "But...I still wish to volunteer. No one else has, after all."

Ashton let out a sigh, running his fingers through his graying hair. The boy had a terribly-obvious point; no one, not even any of the other Vice Generals, had bothered to volunteer. All of the Vice Generals agreed to not force someone to participate in this mission; it wasn't fair. It's been two months now, and not a single person throughout the Alliance had dared to step forward. Now someone had; but it just had to be him.

Looking back at Redford from across his desk, the middle-aged man paused. Redford was young; he had just turned fifteen only days earlier. His hair was a disheveled mess of his namesake dark red, pulled into the smallest ponytail possible at the nape of his neck. With dark eyes and light complexion, he definitely looked like similar to his famous ancestor. If only he had the same wits and ability...

"Red," Ashton starts, folding his hands. "As much as I appreciate you volunteering for this mission, you must realize the outcome of this. Do you realize have a squad to lead? Your sister, Alma; what about her?"

The Vice General had known the Mustang family for as long as he held said rank, which was now stretching into its thirteenth year. He'd been close with the Alliance's leader, High General Haddon Mustang and his wife Carina, having been friends for years. He'd watched as their two children grew up to the current day. Now, one of those children sat across from him.

"She...she has you...and Mom..." Redford hesitates, tapping a finger to his chin."And my squad...they..." The teen goes silent for a few seconds, taking a deep breath. "They'll let me go, as long as I come back."

A chuckle escaped Ashton's mouth, nodding his head. His answer was definitely something he expected. "Why I am not surprised…" he mutters to himself, smiling.

Redford Mustang had always been compared to his ancestors, especially to that of the Alliance's second High General Roy Mustang. While a some-what impressive alchemist, noting with how dangerous the science was nowadays, the boy was constantly put down. He used the same style of alchemy his entire family did; fire alchemy, and he even used the same style gloves Roy had used in the past. Never, at least when Ashton was around, was Redford not compared to somebody from his famous family. Every action the boy did was almost always noted and tallied. He was constantly told of the shoes he was expected to fill; the ones both his father and other ancestors wore.

Redford's squad was among the few people who saw Redford for who he was; a boy who was just trying to achieve without help from his family's legacy. The squad was letting Redford go to find that; the success in completing a dangerous mission labeled by most as a suicide mission. If Redford would go, he had to come back, not only because he had people here (while numbered) who cared for him, but to succeed in something no one else in his family (or anyone) had done would be huge.

Looking the teen straight in the eye, Ashton was stoic as he barked. "Squad Leader Mustang!"

Redford jumps from his chair, standing at attention. He was no longer nervous, and stood confidently in front of his superior. "Yes, sir!"

The Vice General turns in his chair, searching through all sorts of files. Finding a single fairly thick folder, the older man places it on his desk with a loud thump. The red letters on the top read one word: Constricted: Elite Only.

"This is your new mission. Read it over. You leave in three hours."

Looking at the folder, Redford's eyes widen and a small smile began to form the edges of his mouth. He doesn't let it get to him though, and snatches up the thick folder, tucking it under his left arm. He keeps the side with the letters covered with his body; he didn't dare want anybody starting rumors.

Keeping his excitement at bay, Redford respectfully addresses his superior in thanks.

"Yes sir!"

Ah, this story is something that came from ideas from years past and was revisited thanks to my beta Dawnmoon76. Hopefully everything will go okay. I appreciate any suggestions, reviews, anything really!

Chapter 1 will be up soon (hopefully, if life goes as planned). See you guys!

Note: 'Dracreis' (from the summary) is the combo name of Drachma, Creta, and Amestris. You'll sorta figure out why next chapter!