Hello, there, everyone! It's me again, and I've got a new story for you. This one is set twenty years after the end of Brotherhood, and just so you know, Ed and Al aren't going to be in this. It's pretty much gonna be all OCs. :3 Anyway, here's the prologue/pilot. Just so you know, the first and second sections were written by my friend Brindle, and she is a way better writer than I can ever be. So, don't expect detail like that. Sorry. ^^ Anyway, enjoy our co-op!

…~Prologue/Pilot: The History.

…:ANTHONY:…

Creak..

Creak..

Creak..

The tire swing swayed back and forth lazily, slower and slower, only speeding when the wind gave it an encouraging push with it's invisible airy hands. The nine-year-old sighed, sandy hair standing on end as he laid on his back in the tire, letting his limp fingers trail along the dust and dirt, while his feet disturbed the silence by crackling and crushing a couple of fallen leaves and cracking some acorn shells or twigs. His young blue eyes looked up at the twisting and snarling branches above him, fully clothed in lush green leaves that whispered and swayed with each summer breeze. School was out, but Anthony sure as heck wasn't in the mood. After all, his father was all the way back over in Central and where was Anthony? Stuck back home, in the outskirts of South City, with only grandparents to watch over him with a mother and father almost constantly away from home and doing military work in Central, only coming home on weekends.

Sometimes I wish they'd just let Mom and Dad have a vacation once in a while, he thought, knowing that the possibility of that happening was very close to zero. Pulling himself back up, he held on to the rope has he resumed swinging the tire, bored out of his mind. After all, there was almost no kids his age to play with and the ones that were either hated him or, to put it simply, were girls. So each day he stepped out into the world that smelled of sheep and grass and swung on his tire swing all day, until his grandparents called him in for lunch or dinner that is. Sometimes he'd read, but soon lose interest since he read almost all of the books in their house, including the scientific ones that made even Gramps narrow his eyes and raise a brow in confusion, which seemed like a shocker to Anthony since he was always telling him all of these stories of the old days and plus, Gramps used to be a teacher from the Academy. Who could be smarter than him? But Anthony didn't really have a thing for science, he like literature and history a bit more. He didn't want to become an Alchemist like his father, especially after hearing about the crimes they did almost forty years ago in the Ishvalan Civil War. Anthony had many sleepless nights due to his Gramps telling him stories of the terrible battles that occurred in that dreadful war, often having nightmares of people screeching and screaming in agony, a dark fluid that poured out of their wounds that could only be identified as blood. He shuddered at the thought, rubbing at his itching eyes as if trying to swipe his vision clean of those dark nightmares that only preyed upon him under the cover of night. Anthony dug his heels into the dirt and started to pull the tire back some more before pulling his feet upwards, swinging faster and longer with the wind whistling slightly in his ears. He thought he saw some other girls around his age playing on the sidewalk across from his house and he only frowned. What were they playing, that girly game called skotchhop or something? He never really got the point of playing that game when you can always hop around on one foot if you feel like being called or thought a fool. But sometimes he was so desperate for something fun to do that he almost asked them if he could join them, only responding with fits of giggles. Girls were weird.

"Anthony, my boy.."

The child's head turned to see his grandfather, wearing his battered brown hat and holding his wooden cane at his side, standing on the porch of the house. "Yeah, Grampa?" Anthony called, slipping out from the tire before walking over to him. His grandfather never really left the house since he had aching joints, so this was a surprise for the nine-year-old. "Where ya going?"

"Your grandmother told me that there is a family that just moved in just down the street from us," Grampa told him, his voice quivering and cracking from old age. "I wanted to come down and say hello to them, since Grandma will be shopping all day. Would you like to come?"

Anthony shook his head, not in the mood to face anymore annoying neighbors. He's had enough of the neighbors, always wanting to push their kids to play with him even though the most likely thing they'd do would be to just drool or beat him up, maybe even ignore him and go hang out with his grandparents, who would just force them back to him.

"They have a boy, Anthony. He's only around one or two years younger than ya, but...I hear he's a nice little thing..."

"That's what all the neighbors say about their kids when they're only jerks," Anthony mumbled. "Look Gramps, go meet them yourself. I'll clean up the house before you come back..." He really didn't want to argue with his grandfather, since he was the closest thing to a fatherly figure that Anthony ever had when his real dad wasn't around. Grampa was about to fight back when he thought better of it, his dark stern gaze softening.

"Alright. I'll be back soon. Lock the doors and don't open the door for anyone. If anything happens, call the Morrisons' next door." His grandfather headed for out of the yard, opening the fence with his other hand before looking back over at Anthony and said, "I love you, Anthony."

"Love you too, Gramps," Anthony told him with a small smile. When his grandfather turned back around, Anthony thought he saw the corners of the old man's lips begin to pull back in a smile.

…:ZHOU:…

"..I did what?"

"Don't act innocent!" one of the kids barked at the Xingese seven-year-old. "We know you robbed the bank! It had to be you!"

Zhou blinked, puzzled but yet amused at his peer's expression, trying to stifle a giggle despite standing in front of a pretty tough crowd. His hands were locked with each other, hidden underneath his traditional Xingese robes. He was just going to the library to collect a book for his mother when those kids popped out of nowhere, rage on their faces. Zhou didn't understand how just some innocent seven-year-old could rouse up such a big uproar among his peers, but he stayed where he was to face them rather than to run away. He regretted that. "When was this bank robbed?"

"Last night! All the adults were talkin' 'bout it and say that it was one of them Xingese folk!" a kid from the back of the group piped up, probably a new recruit because he received many icy glares. They were obviously intent on telling a false reason but Zhou appreciated the new kid to tell him on the specifics.

Zhou shrugged. "It does not mean it was me. Now, may I please get through so I can get my mother her library books? She still does not know much Amestrian and needs to know before getting a job—"

The leader of the group, a pig-faced kid with messy red hair, blocked him with a single step to the side, thanks to his exceptionally large body mass. Zhou took a step back, having heard of how famous Pig-face was with his arm strength. As well as decking skills.

"Ya ain't goin' nowheres, squinty! Not 'til ya admit that ya did rob ol' Mister Sloan's bank!" Pig-face growled. "We'll make ya tell tha' truth and then ya'll get arrested by thee authorities!" All the other kids nodded while others cheered in approval. Zhou shook his head.

"Why admit something I have not done? It is pointless. The adults will never believe that I robbed the bank. It is not like you can control other minds and bend them to your own will."

"We can always try—"

"Being a bit more kind? I doubt you even tried."

"What did ya say, Squinty?" Pig-face demanded. Zhou blinked. His mouth was open but the words did not come from him. The rest of the small group consisting of six children, excluding Pig-face, looked around in confusion, searching for the person who said those words. Pig-face, however, was the only one to spot the sandy-haired boy standing a few feet behind Zhou, hands tucked in his pockets with a scowl on his face, blue eyes narrowed.

"Oh, your eyes will be squinting once I give you two black eyes, Snout-nose!" the stranger barked, clenching his hands into fists. He walked to stand next to Zhou, standing a couple of inches taller than the Xingese child. He seemed older, maybe a year or two his senior, but that didn't seem important at that moment. What did seem important was that this kid looked like he was ready to beat Pig-face into a pulp.

Pig-face only laughed, snorting like a pig after each guffaw. "Do you really think you can beat us, Durante?" Pig-face sneered, his thugs seeming to crowd in with ugly grins on their faces. The boy shrugged, hands still in pockets.

"No, but..." His features were graced with a devilish grin. "Maybe THIS can!" He whipped out two tomatoes and flung them at Pig-face, both splattering all over their intended target, splattering red tomato matter all over the place. Anthony then grabbed Zhou by the arm and raced away, the Xingese boy hearing his laughter all the way to their hiding place.

…:GYPSY:…

It was a foggy morning, the cobblestone streets shrouded in a comforting embrace. One sleepy building stretched and awoke, lamps like eyes flicking on to start the day. There was quiet upon the world for a few tense moments. Had it awoken for nothing? As if on cue, the reverberations of several sets of feet clattered through the dreary mist. Shadowy shapes flitted around and finally dared to enter the golden pool of liquid light. They were revealed to be young women of perhaps twelve or thirteen years of age. They were all shivering slightly, shuffling their feet, eager to seek the warmth of the house.

The wooden door creaked open slightly, letting a stream of light fall upon two girls. They squinted in the brightness, and the entrance threw itself open. A few of the ladies held up a hand, as if to shield their eyes from the blinding stabs of light. Others merely stood there, blinking stupidly.

The figure that stood there, erect and confident, looked down upon them with a mixture of confusion and sturdiness. Her light gray hair was up in a bun, and tinged orange in places where the light caressed it. Her lined face was warm and kind, and a smile graced her lips.

"Come along, everyone," she said, gesturing to let the girls in. "Let's get to work."

This was a dance class. For hours, the girls practiced and rehearsed. They danced until the sun was up, and the clock chimed ten. The older woman clapped her hands twice, signaling the end of practice.

"All right, girls," she called as they gathered. "That's enough for today. Go on home, and be back here tomorrow."

"Right," they chorused, and went to change back into their normal clothes. In the back room, they chatted and gossiped like any other teenage girls do. One of them wit long blonde hair approached another with slightly darkened skin and even darker hair.

"Hey, Gypsy," she said excitedly, "wanna walk home with me?"

The other, Gypsy, looked up, blinking her emerald eyes. "Sorry, Amanda, but I don't think I can today," she explained. "My stepmother wants me home to help tidy up."

Amanda's round face fell, but she instantly brightened again. "Oh…well, okay. If you see Anthony around, tell him I said hi, okay?"

Gypsy nodded and smiled, standing. "Sure. Bye, Amanda!" She jogged for the door, but halted as she saw two familiar shapes through the window. They were both male. One was her age, but the other seemed a year or two younger. The one her age was blonde, and had his arms crossed, watching her through the window with a grin plastered to his face. The other with dark hair and sort of squinty eyes had his hands folded into his sleeves, neither smiling nor frowning. He was…neutral. Gypsy hurried outside, standing on the steps with her hand brushing the railing.

"What are you two doing here?" she asked, clearly surprised.

"Waiting for you, smart one," Anthony replied, rolling his eyes. He pushed off the wall he was leaning on, waiting for her to come down rather than going up. "Besides, you're getting good."

Gypsy, had she been anyone else, would have turned pink. Instead she narrowed her eyes to slits, rivaling Anthony's companion. "You were watching me? The both of you?"

"Duh," Anthony said, rolling his eyes again. "No, we came to stand here for no reason. Zhou, what did you think of Gypsy's dancing?"

The younger boy blinked. "I believe that her accuracy far surpasses—"

Anthony sighed and put a hand over Zhou's mouth. "Tell the nice lady you like her dancing, Zhou."

The Xingese child blinked. "You dance well," he said simply, which caused Gypsy to giggle.

"Thanks, Zhou," she said. "Now come on, you two, let's go."

…~

Thanks for coming this far! Don't worry, it will get better…at least, I sincerely hope so.