DISCLAIMER Ido NOT own FullMetal Alchemist, any of it's characters except the ones of my own creation in this story if any. Any similarities in this fan fiction to any original script of the animé, mangaka, or games, is by sheer coincidence, and not copied. Credits for FullMetal Alchemist, Edward and Alphonse Elric, Winry Rockbell, Scar, Colonel Roy Mustang, or any other characters that are not of my creation in this story go to the creator of FullMetal Alchemist (Hiromu Arakawa), Square Enix, Aniplex, and FUNimation Inc.

Author's Notes: This is one of my first fan fiction ever, so if it is not any good, go ahead and tell me. I welcome any and all critiques.

Prologue -

Reopening the Gate?

Edward yawned as he picked up the local paper and slid on his glasses, taking in the caption on the front page, 'Fuhrer Hitler's Failed Attempts at Overthrowing the Berlin Legislative Are Increasing.' It had been twelve years to the date since him and Alphonse had crossed over through the gate and destroyed Karl Haushofers villa along with the gate and Envy. Since then, they've been traveling between Germany and Russia, learning as much of this worlds science as they could. After studying under Izumi, science wasn't that hard to comprehend, and they'd collected plenty of books on Rocket Science, and understood well more than enough of it. After twelve years, they are still trying to get back to Shambala, even though they'd destroyed the only way. Even though he had Al, and they had their bodies back, and they knew it would end this way, for some reason it wasn't enough. The satisfaction, the gratification, Alchemy... Winry. None of it was there, and he needed it. He hadn't even seen anymore familiar faces, only one after they'd returned. Riza Hawkeye. He had seen her about three years ago, on a train back to Munich from Prague. She had given him the same exact look he gave her, the look that said, "It's you... You're still alive." But the didn't speak, and it was no more than a glimpse as the passed each other in a train car, trying to find an open seat. He and Al both knew it wasn't possible for her to be the Hawkeye that they new all those years ago.

He laid the paper down without reading anymore, he didn't bother reading the news anymore. All it was about was Hitler and the war. The Germans were still trying for a true, one race, nation. He stood up from the kitchen table and laid his glasses down atop of the paper and walked his way to the sink, turning on the water and washing his face. He looked down into the sink as the water pooled, looking into the rippling water as memories flashed through his mind. Memories of Shamballa. This was an everyday occurrence, and it didn't get any better. He didn't mention it to Al because he knew all would blame them as the cause for his lately increasing stress. But he wondered if his brother was going through the same thing. He'd gotten his memories back when they crossed through the gate, but he and Ed never talked about their past. It seemed as though it was too hard to do so, to remember everyone that basically didn't exist anymore. Tear's filled his eyes as he thought about it, holding his face in a hand as the prosthetic gripped the knob and turned off the water.

"Brother," said Al, as he walked into the kitchen behind Ed. Ed cleared his eyes and grabbed a wash cloth, drying his face. He turned to look at his brother who continued to speak, "It's Noah, she's here. She wants to speak with you."

Ed nodded his thanks and walked past Al towards the living room, finding Noah sitting on the sofa. "Al says you wanted to see me?" She looked up from her folded hand and nooded before standing.

"You read the paper?" she asked. After Alphonse Heiderich's funeral, she went back to the carnival, and then on to Britain to go to college. There she had met a young man, Bradly Scheiffer, and they married soon after graduating. They moved back to Germany and opened a small line of hotels and inns. Ed and Al had seen her in Berlin with her husband, and they talked about what had happened with each other in the years since she'd left. They haven't spoken much since. Ed nodded in reply, and she looked into his eyes, "Ed, he went to Haushofers villa and dug up all of the studies and information. He's going to try and open the gate to Shamballa again."

This took Ed aback for a moment before shaking his head, "He can't. We destroyed the gate, and there's no way back. The chances of that happening are less than fifty against odds of... Millions, it's just not possible." Ed smirked and shrugged the thought off, "Is that all you came here for, Noah? If it is, it seems like a ra-"

"Oh, come off it Ed! I'm worried about you and your people, don't you think you should at least check into it? I don't know what I did to make you irritable with me, but I'm trying to make up for that. A little late, but it's better than never. If you have any bit of a hear left in Shamballa, you'd make even the smallest effort to stop him. If that's too much to ask, maybe it was a waste of my time." After that, she didn't say a word, just walked past Ed and nodded her goodbye to Al before walking out the door.

"Brother, the older you get, it seems to me, the worse your mean streak is. No matter what's happened in the past, she still cares about you. All she wants is to help, and I'm not going to let her help be in vein. Stay here if that's what you want. I'm going to pack." With that said, Al left Ed there, too, alone again.

Ed sighed again and looked down at his hands; the were showing their age these days, looking older than they were, old and torn, about to wither away. The chemicals he and all worked with didn't seem to hurt his lungs like they had Alphonse, Ed and his brother didn't cough up blood like Alphonse did. Ed couldn't explain it. It was one of the things that he couldn't make a theory about in this world, that he couldn't explain with logical thought. He went back to the kitchen and grabbed his glasses from atop the news paper, looking down at the picture of the man that once again threatened his home world. His face curled in an angry frown as he slid his glasses back on. Over the past fourteen years, he'd grown a large distaste for the man in the pit of his stomach. Just seeing his face made ed angry to the point he saw red. He picked up the paper and disposed of it in the trash bin, the found his way up the stairs to Al's room. Without looking in, only pausing for a moment, he said, "I'll go," and he continued to his room to pack his things as well.

Author's Note: Hai, hai.. I know this is short, but it's only the prologue, and I figured I'd use it to get my first critic rating. What do you guys think? Do I continue, Or throw this idea out the window? Let me know. Thanks. -Yori