Author's Note: Alright! Soooo, I cannot WAIT to get this party started but first, I have some very important things to say so please, read this if you would. Now, I know in the summery I did not say this was a crossover, or write down a list of pairings, or even put this the crossover section BUT I have my reasons. Firstly, I didn't want to put this in the crossover section because well, most people never check the cross over section AND this has multiple universes so please, show me some sympathy. ^^' I think its fine if I put it in the universe they'll all be meeting it, the Hetalia AU which is in the Victorian Era in this country….. Which is probably France now that I think about it. Also, I'm more comfortable posting it in the Hetalia category because well, this place has a great fandom and I love it so~ :3
Anyways, here is what this story is a crossover of:
Hetalia (AU)
Full Metal Alchemist (2003 heavy AU)
Yu-Gi-Oh (AU)
Bayonetta (AU) (This one is a video game, in case you were wondering. ^^')
As for pairings, they are undetermined for the moment.
Now, that ought to be all the important things to talk about for the moment so, I shall let you read, and please, drop a review at the end! It shall be must appreciated and like TheGuardianKnux on Facebook for some concept art and maybe even some spoilers and I would love to answer any questions. Also, this story might be put into some sort of crossover category when it's finished. ^^'
NOTE: I do not own Hetalia, Full Metal Alchemist, Yu-Gi-Oh or Bayonetta. They are products and ideas of their respective companies and owners. I really only own the plot and some added details. ^^'
He hadn't really meant to make his way into the forest to be honest….. And even if he had he never really believed in the stories that his town spoke of…. It's not like he would run into the spirit or maybe…. Daemon of the forest as they called it… Right?
Well, now he wasn't so sure.
His visible oceanic eye, the color of the sea that crashed against the cliffs of his country and the sky that use to shine that color above his town as well, was widened and dilated in shock and fear as a cold sweat dripped like bullets down his pale skin. His long, wavy and curly blonde hair seemed to stick to the back of his neck and all the way down to his tailbone, while his longer bangs on the left side of his face that went down to his collar bone stuck to his face.
His breathing coming out in short pants, the young man's back was pressed against a tall pine, his body shaking from the bolting sprint he had taken before being cornered into such an uncomfortable place. During said chase, his tail coat and long breeches had been torn severely, leaving the skin above his knee and his entire right arm exposed.
That is, if he had skin in either of those places, which he didn't.
No, instead of skin being around his knee and below it there was metal…. Not just random metal no, the metal around and underneath each knee was…. Different.
Instead of having skin and bone calves and knees, they were made out of metal, in a design called automail which is a type of prosthetic popular around the country and their neighboring ones.
At the knee a plate was bolted in the shape of a knee that was a chrome plating over a more flexible metal that covered the back of the knee and a little bit under and above the knee plate to extend to another chrome plate right above it that hugged the rest of the flesh where the leg would cut off into a metal that surrounded the place where the leg was amputated called a port.
Under the knee was another chrome plate that cut off half way around the calf, the back of said calf made of another plate with two rivets in it that was built into the shape of a calf muscle with another plate in a more circular shape fitting into a rounded cut off with the plate put right in front of it. Lastly, instead of the automail being built into the shape of a foot, it was built into a speedier, slicker design. This was of a curved piece of metal that looked like a brace: a piece of flexible metal that started out straight the curved out, and curved back into to provide balance to the user and split off into two little, "toes," that extended out a little bit to provide more balance. When he bothered to show them to anyone, they noticed that these were rather unique automail legs, their craftsmanship unlike any other and that managed to make the blonde feel some pride in is prosthetics sometimes.
Really he was just happy they looked at least somewhat attractive, and showed off his sender legs and were built out of a water resistant material.
The arm was built out of the same metal, and was built more to resemble the lost limb unlike his automail legs, with the metal plating crafted to accentuate where parts of the arm muscle would be, all of it connecting smoothly to give him the most flexibility in his right arm, and the port of the arm starting right at the whole shoulder.
And the arm was built normally like that for a reason as well, but at the moment, the young man didn't know if he'd be able to utilize its full capability, being trapped right up against a tree with…. That…. Daemon? Spirit? Thing? Growling and snarling at him from the shadows but, natural light provided by the Moon at least gave him one thing:
A faint outline of the creature in front of him, its massive, hulking form breathing slowly in the chilly night air as its blood red eyes shined in the darkness and stared straight into his oceanic one which gave theirs and off contrast.
Those crimson eyes, blood red and drowning….. Yet-yet they were-
Almost human.
Giving him more a chill then he had ever realize, he tried to keep himself deathly still, hoping that the creature might lose interest in him which… As of how far it had chased him and how far he had ran…. Seemed, unlikely.
Feeling another cold sweat run down the right side of his face, the blonde drew in another ragged breath, wondering if he should stay silent for long or possibly…. Talk, to the-the thing in front of him that seemed to just stand there, watching him and snarling occasionally.
Well, he had nothing else he could really try at this point that wouldn't kill him.
Staring the creature in the eye, he tried relaxing his body as he slowly and hesitantly lowered his metal arm that was in front of his body, shielding himself in case something were to happen, (Which made him feel idiotic, since he had his automail arm which had more than one purpose…..)
Licking his dry lips hesitantly , his eyes still dilated and panicked, he sucked in a sharp, ragged breath as his heart thumped quickly like a terrified bird and asked hoarsely, "Why-Why- 'aven't you-you eaten me-me yet?"
Watching the eyes in front of him narrow, the creature was silent except its own ragged, tired sounding breathing before he heard an odd noise slowly slip from the own creature's mouth, (If it had one that was to say…..)
The sound itself, started out low, and slight menacing yet loud and surrounding-almost engulfing till it started to get louder and louder and a bit lighter…. Meaning the creature was-it was:
Laughing….. The creature was… Laughing!
"It's-it's laugh-laughing…..?" The young man asked confusingly in another jagged breath as he watched the eyes squint shut but the odd heaving laughter remain. It was incredibly peculiar! Why on Earth would a forest daemon/ spirit chase after his angrily, rip his clothing, and corner him into a tree, evidently wait for him to speak, (His voice laced in a terror filled stutter by the by,) And then when he did fine enough muster to speak and did so, laugh at him?
As he was thinking these things, his train of thought abruptly crashed after hearing an odd low, growling, almost…. Pleading whisper meet his ears, making his eyes widen once again only this time, in shock:
Francis Bonnefoy~ Francissss~ Frannncciiss~
Feeling as though his heart had stopped, he knew he wouldn't be able to take what happened next. Feeling as though the world was suddenly spinning, he felt his eye roll back suddenly as the world started to get darker and darker as inky black waves of darkness soon leaked into his vision before he could even register that he had just fainted.
Francis Bonnefoy, now lying unconscious on the ground, was at the mercy of the creature in front of him, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.
Nine Years Later…..
"Br-brother," An uncertain voice whispered-almost whimpered as the owner of the voice held out a sturdy metal lantern towards the crawling shadows in the darkness; making them "hiss" and "flee" angrily from the stead fast iron grip of a shaking gloved hand that was connected to a slightly shaking body, "Are you sure it's alright to journey in this forest…. The one that's been-been said to have been cursed?"
Said quivering body was that of a young man with round, innocent looking olive eyes that seemed to dilate in slight fear while the boy's long, straight hair whipped behind him, tied back in a honey colored pony tail as his shorter, choppier bangs were parted towards his left, leaving a small cowlick to protrude from the part of said bangs. Ironically, dressed in a long midnight cloak with the hood pulled down, the boy-even whilst fearing the shadows seemed to blend in with them with only his oddly colored eyes and hair as a brighter contrast that seemed to stick out like weeds in a rather dead garden, the same going for his brother.
And the same, while not too oddly enough, could be said for his brother. Looking similar to the first boy, his brother was shorter though, and his hair was longer and a brighter shade of yellow-gold to be precise-and his eyes being the same color almost as a curtain to match the windows. His straight tresses were pulled back into a loose braid falling down his back and ending just under his shoulder blades-the ends getting closer to his lower back. His bangs, unlike his brother, where parted in the center and were longer, now reaching down to almost his shoulders in contrast to his cowlick which while long, was still springier and more apparent than his brother's.
Dressed in the same long midnight cloak, the boy seemed to blend into the shadows as well except for one small-but important detail:
An insignia on the back of the cloak was colored a deep crimson and depicted a cross with a snake either crucified or slithered in and or around it and a crown risen above with two wings spaced apart from said crown.
In other words, a symbol called a flamel.
Back to the matter at hand, the shorter of the boys did not turn around but had he his facial expression that showed one trying to suppress a groan which was expressed with a sigh as boy answered, sounding tired, "It's all superstition Al! You've got nothing to worry about and besides," Crinkling his nose in a slight bit of disgust, the boy glared at the trees in their way and beyond from what he could see and scoffed before muttering slightly, "It's not like they have proof its haunted…. What's the point of being scared by a bit of superstition anyways?"
Gulping slightly, the boy-nicknamed "Al," looked around a bit, a slightly ghostly look on his face as his hand continued to quiver and spasm slightly while answering with an unconvinced and nervous stutter, "So-Some superstitions are rather close to the truth Brother…"
Giving a clearly more agitated sigh, the brother gave downwards look at the ground but did not stop walking as he replied in a low mutter, more or less to himself, "And shouldn't I know that by now…."
Deciding not to say anymore on the matter of the boy's increasing paranoia of some sort of "haunted" force hidden in the thick forest, the shorter boy continued to lead ahead, his own lantern stretched out almost eagerly as his short legs continued their brisk but slightly wary walk.
Despite not fully admitting it out loud, the short boy had to admit that he felt as though Al was right and that not all superstitions were fake and if their mission was anything to go by, (Though the shorter brother would tell you dead on that their mission in its self was a wild goose chase being ordered on them by a, "Colonel Bastard," as their commanding officer was "called,") And that maybe by some sort of slim chance that there might actually be some sort of alchemist living out in this forest who could quite possibly have the information they were looking for….. Possibly.
Not that this…. This, "title," the Iron Rose Alchemist is anything to go by…..
His ever growing grimace never suppressing itself, the boy give another annoyed huff and kept treading through the forest while trying not to get his cloak, hair, or limbs caught by swooping and drooping branches, not to mention tangling and ensnaring roots.
But somewhere in his mind, doubt seemed to trickle in like a leak from a punctured roof, making the boy's brow crease as he gritted his teeth in annoyance at himself for even possibly feeling:
Slightly…. Nervous… Scared even…
What the Hell me! He thought, yelling at himself for even believing that he, who had been to the Gate and back, might ever be scared of a supposed haunted forest…..
"Evidently they say the forest is haunted…. And when travelers travel in it, none dare make it through before a raging "demonic" spirit captures them and eats them in one-"
"You're kidding me Mustang!" the boy interrupted angrily, slamming his right hand on the desk, leaving an indentation of his fist in its wake before the boy spat a insult at his superior, "This is the CRAP you're trying to get me to waste my time on! A haunted FOREST!" Muttering angrily, the boy's golden, sharp eyes, now fiery with rage darted down for a moment in his grumbling before darting back up to sharply glare a set of dark, inky sharp and slanted ones that challenged the boy with its own unique spark despite their slightly cold glint.
The two iris colors battled it out, the room now filled with an odd, electrifying tension that-while rather choking and thick, and something most people would not be able to tolerate without adverting their eyes from the duel and letting the other win. It did not do over dose the two though, their gazes locked in a fiery passion to duel out their feelings over the matter at hand.
But then, the tension snapped, broken like a strained chord that, now released, would snap back and slap one of the holders of said tug of war…. And all because of one little facial expression:
A smirk and a rather smug one at that.
Golden eyes blinking in a slight splinter of shock, the boy's face went blank before a new expression took its place:
Rage, utter, undying, bitter, pathological rage.
And Mustang, Roy Mustang, loved every fiber of that rage and almost enough to make his smug smirk grow into a smug grin, but he knew that would push too much over kill into the reaction, making him suppress it.
Instead he watched in a hidden sense of pleasure and giddiness hidden by his now coldly glinting eyes and smug smirk as the boy in front of him raged at the top of his lungs and flung his arms around and ranted on the uselessness of his new mission.
After awhile, the electric feeling-the pleasure of annoying his charge started to fade as the suspicious feeling of becoming deaf settled into his ear drums, making his former smirk start to fade into an annoyed frown as the ebony haired man sighed in agitation.
Clearing his throat, Roy got up from his chair and leaned over his desk, his eyes glinting coldly as he commanded sharply, in a louder voice than he would normally use in doors, "Fullmetal, stop."
Surprisingly, "Fullmetal" as he was called stopped in his raging wake and paused to look up at his superior Roy. With a face flushed a color of crimson, which complemented his golden locks and made him much more child like-almost younger than fourteen. Looking up with almost wide eyes, the boy's golden orbs seemed blank. His hair disheveled, his loose braid looking slightly worn as his bangs slightly caressed his tanned face, complementing the warm colored appearance of his which in turn, gave Mustang an odd feeling he couldn't place…
Brushing aside these feelings, which made him uncomfortably….. Not in control for some odd reason….. And Roy Mustang, usually a cunning and upper handed Colonel of the Amestrian State Military, incredibly irate with himself.
Narrowing his eyes, a sharp and cutting glint made the boy blink his eyes and replace his formally surprised gaze with a sharp glint reflecting off of his now angered face. The tense yet faint lines graced his face ones again, having almost been blasted off his face by his superior, much to their surprise.
Seeing his tense expression filled Mustang with a tinge of sadness as the thoughts of what had happened to the boy and his brother over the years before seeing him again, becoming a state alchemist…. A dog of the military… That as well attributed to giving the boy such tense lines that a 14 year old shouldn't have to wear….
Blinking his eyes in his own bit of surprise, Mustang tried to cover up his surprise with an emotionless mask-a trick of his to try and keep the situation in his hand as he tried to once again, brush away his odd feelings towards the boy… That almost seemed to borderline…. Borderline-
"COLONEL BASTARD!" Fullmetal yelled, making the man lurch out of his thoughts with a frown before snapping at his charge:
"Watch you language Edward," His tense frown slowly melting as the corners of his mouth up turned into another smug smirk as he retaliated, "Aren't you a bit young to be talking to your superiors like that….. Shorty?"
And as before, the Colonel felt himself trying to suppress another grin as he sat back down and watched his charge, Edward, continue to rage at his insult.
Which made Mustang content that nothing was out of place…..
….
And then I tried socking that ass one in the jaw….. Edward thought with his own dark smile, the corners of his mouth upturning into an almost Cheshire grin as his golden eyes seemed to reflect a hidden cat like nature in the darkness.
"Bro-brother?"
And there he goes again… Edward thought with an agitated sigh before reminding himself that his brother was the only family he really had, and likewise for his brother to him. Feeling a bit guilty for not really thinking about Alphonse's fears at the moment, the golden haired boy stopped abruptly, making his younger brother jump in his steps as Edward turned around to talk to him face to face.
"Edward-wha-what are you-"
"Al?" the boy asked softly, gazing into his younger brother's soft olive eyes that seemed to look tense and alert, his pupils incredibly dilated and nervous.
With his soft gave penetrating the tense looking glaze in Alphonse's own irises, the younger yet taller boy's fears began to melt like butter as his formally hitched breathing slowed as his stiff shoulders lowered. Something in his brother's concerned gaze, the way it glimmered with the soft glow of dimming embers as if to slightly halt its usual fiery passion that could cut through anyone standing in their way made him…. Relax….. And feel less frightened and alone….. Especially having been trapped in the dark already once before….
But Alphonse did not like to recollect those times, if ever, and was just glad that they were behind the two of them…..
Correct?
Feeling his gut tighten at his navel in even more awareness-alertness as his breathing hitched again. No-No something was wrong in this forest….. Some other sense-a six sense was telling him that despite his elder brother's comforting and sure gaze, that they were not alone…. Something was off…
And it made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up as his pupils dilated once more to the feeling of a soft in coming breeze weaved around him and his brother, making him loose focus in an odd noise being carried by it…..
A chanting of words, a chanting of words that was like a song…. And the song was like note being carried and projected outwards from the throat of a wild songbird…. Clear and precise…. But some how he knew it wasn't just a scramble of syllables….. No, the chanting was purposeful…. Meaningful….. But a different language…..
JubileusOIADCreator...TORZVOIADCreator...RebornCreator...RebornBALTOHOIADSinnersCreator...ODIOLCIDORPHAOLLORnew...Beginning.
Eyes widening at the bits of English he could hear mixed in with the faint chanting, he tried to make sense of the words that he could hear…. That felt as though they were pinpricking every fiber of his being with small needles, cutting right through him…
Cre-Creator-
ARRROOOOOOOOOOO!
Both brothers hitched their breaths, jerking themselves out of one's boring and confused stare and the other's distant and distracted one as the loud howl echoed throughout the forest, cutting the former tension like a knife…. And instead replacing it with a new tension.
One that gave the senses….. Of danger….
Their pupils dilated in their sockets, and bodies held stiff and battle ready, their eyes darted about as they looked about their surroundings as much as they could in the darkness with Alphonse's gas lantern being their only help.
But its orange glow could only help so much….
I knew it! We can't be the only ones here…. The younger brother thought in a panic, clenching his free hand, clothed in a glove matching the other hand with an intriquet markings on both that seemed to symbolize something….
It could-no-it should just be some sort of animal….. Edward thought, eyes narrowing as he told himself to relax unlike his frightened brother, who was standing as still as a statue, paralyzed in fear.
Glancing at said brother, Edward sighed mentally but none the less got into a freer battle ready position. With his eyes narrowed and glinting in anticipation, Edward couldn't help but feel exhilaration in fighting off a new opponent….. A challenge even it was some sort of animal….. He hadn't fought an enemy with alchemy in a while….. And besides, maybe he could take out his anger at "Colonel Bastard" with this foe….. Whoever or whatever it was and send it off with a warning to stop making his brother look like he was going to wet himself and just let them get through this forest and find this mysterious "Iron Rose Alchemist."…..
And for the first time in the last few minutes or hours, (He couldn't recall to be honest,) Edward did one thing:
He smiled, but not just that, he grinned.
This fight would be a good one alright.
*Transition*
"It-It is coming to pass, it is coming to PASS!" A figure rambled, their back pressed against a cold, damp, stone wall as their form slid to the equally cold and damp ground. The person's voice sounded…. Unnatural…. Their pitches switching from starting out in a higher, head voice and sliding into a lower, chest voice before sliding back up. The voice seemed to start sentences in a low, weak stutter that seemed to have a hard time spouting out of their mouth before being projected loudly in a yell on certain words and syllables.
Another figure, cloaked, their face hidden, replied deeper, gruff yet sharply, "Yes High Sage, it is coming to pass."
The figure, down almost sitting on the floor with their back weakly pressed against the wall seemed to shutter at that moment while staying silent… Before an odd wind seemed to creep into the room, its cold tendrils feeling the two figures in said room that were generating heat and trying to suck said heat out of them. It made the only figure standing on two legs shiver as they clutched a weapon in their grip-a scythe-till the knuckles under his gloves turned white.
The weapon user was shivering alright, but for all the wrong reasons. He had felt the wind, he had heard what the breeze was saying, but he knew it wasn't a good thing despite how the voice crooned with satisfaction. No, what was going to happen wasn't a good thing, not at all… But he couldn't let the High Sage sense his feelings and know what he was thinking…. Or then things wouldn't be good…. For him anyways.
His breath hitched in his throat, again the weapons user said nothing as he watched-no he sensed the wind speaking to the unbalanced figure on the floor…. Sensed it crooning, sighing, and comforting the figure on the floor in the tongue he and the High Sage, and everyone else in the Church could speak….
Words that had use to bring comfort, joy, and laughter to his ears only made him want to shutter, cower, then spit at with malice, hatred and anger.
But he refrained from speaking and watched the High Sage listen even more…. Maybe even eagerly…. But he could read the Sage's expressions under the figure's cloak and mask….
After what felt like several minutes though, sharp laughter filled the air, making the weapon's user jump as he watched the figure's body heave in laughter…. Sink lower to the floor in laughter….. That horse sounding, bone chilling, almost childish laughter…. But he knew it wasn't regular laughter…. It was sociopathic laughter… Soon to maybe even turn sadist laughter….
And only around him….
Oh how lucky he was.
It only made him want to throw swears at the smug, prideful voice in the wind that laughed along with him, but not in one voice, but in the voice of hundreds….
And this time it decided to mix his natural laugh with the High Sage's own laugh.
How disgusting.
Resisting the urge to cringe, he narrowed his eyes almost scathingly at the two laughing voices but hid them well out of habit under the hood of his cloak, but he knew the voice in the wind could probably sense his contempt.
Adverting his eyes from the disgusting laughter, the weapon's user looked out the glassless arched window of the tower they were in and out at the grey horizon….. A horizon that was mostly only ever grays, blues, and purples these days with small bits of dulled gold to mix into the cold hues of a now darkened sky.
It made him rather depressed sometimes to think that he helped contribute to the sky's darkened state. But it could not be helped; the sky was now that way for a reason.
But up in the sky he saw a small patch of gold leak its way through, and it made him almost smile for the first time in a long time…. But he bit back the little flutter of joy it gave him when a thought struck its way like a quick blade slicing flesh as word repeated themselves to him, echoing in his mind:
Eyes like gold, like our creator,
Hair like gold, like our creator,
An arm to discipline like our creator,
A leg to walk forward, and change this world like our creator,
This boy of gold shall be the successor to our creator, and through him she shall guide our people to change this sinful Earth into a new age,
An age of change,
An age of purity,
An age of Lumen,
An age where the right eye shall remain and the left forgone into the depths of an inferno.
The age of Umbra and Lumen coexisting, shall soon be over.
These haunting words made him shutter even in the presence of the High Sage, making him grip his scythe even tighter than before, making his hand protest in pain.
Such prophetic words… Words that promised something even greater than their High Sage…. Words that spoke of destruction…. Of cleansing….
He didn't know if their High Sage would be able to find this, "Boy of Gold," or if the return of the Creator would happen or not… Really, as promising as it sounded, he had a smaller goal he cared far more about at the moment because he knew he would succeed in:
Finding the stone, the Philosopher's Stone.
And then he could abandon slaying for good.
But he would never let the High Sage know that, he would never let the other Soul Reapers, riders of Virtues like him know that, and he would never let that voice in the wind know that either. No, it was his goal and no one else's, and if he had to slay more and more souls in order to get what he wanted, then he would, there was no mistake about that.
He wanted to get that Tomato Bastard's body back at any cost God Damn it!
Listening to the laughter echo in his ears, his eyes narrowed into a glare at the horizon that felt so far away from him at the moment….. As if he was buried in the deep, depths of Inferno and that Paradiso was light years away from him…..
And at this point in might as well be.
Turning away from the laughter in front of him, the weapon's user made his way through the thick wooden door that marked the only entrance into the room. Clutching the door's iron knocker style handle, he could help but grit his teeth in bitterness as he made he clutched it and though, seething;
Yeah, yeah, yuck it up ya damn sage-like I care! Once I get it, His formally dark, amber eyes lightening with a determined fire as a small smirk etched its way to his face, Once I get what I've been killing for, I won't have to worry about your long gone mind any longer, oh dear High Sage. You can rot for all I care!
And with that, the weapon's user opened the door with a loud creak, and slammed it shut on his way out.
Author's Note: Alright! Here we go and how was that? XD I promise when a term you've never heard of that doesn't have a spoiler attached to it will be explained, so that anyone reading this will understand it. First being:
Amestris is a country in the world of Full Metal Alchemist, but in the universe it's on Earth, probably somewhere near Germany in which the country's government is based on if you've seen the movie. ^^'
The country they're in right now is France but it won't be mentioned that much, and all I know is that it's in rural mainland France near the coast. ^^'
And lastly, that mysterious language Alphonse heard is called Encochian. ;)
Anyways, I think that's all I need to explain. ^^ If you have any questions, leave them on the FB page or in a review and I'll answer them in the next chapter.
Oh, and did you figure out who was narrating the end of the chapter? Because I sure did. :3
Anyways, thank you for reading, and leave a review please~ :D