Chapter 10
The Interrogation Room. The Interview Room. The Chamber of Questions. The Gold Chair.
These were just a few of the multiple names given to the dimly-lit room in the heart of Central Headquarters, which was the place where aspiring State Alchemists were given their interview after the written test. The aspirant would sit on a golden three-legged chair and maintain their balance throughout the entire thing, while chosen higher-ups of the military would ask them about their intentions and background. All the famous State Alchemists today, such as Edward "Fullmetal Alchemist" Elric, and Roy "Flame Alchemist" Mustang, had passed through that phase of their exams and knew just how uneasy it felt sitting on a rather unstable chair and answering anything the officers would throw at them. More often than not, it was the Fuhrer who asked most of the questions.
But on that day, it was the aspiring Fuhrer who would be interrogated, and instead of military higher-ups, it would be the entire Parliament – although there would be a few higher-ranking generals who would also toss their own questions to the major general who would be entering this room for the second time in his life.
It had been two months since a letter had forewarned Roy Mustang about his upcoming interview. A week before the big day, he got another message from the Parliament finally giving him the exact date and time. He would be holed up in the blessed room for at least the entire morning, only talking when answering a question and alone with the Parliament and some generals from other regions of Amestris, who were ranked higher than him.
Now, he stood outside the glistening double doors, the letter in a gloveless hand. After all, he wasn't there to show off his alchemic skills this time.
On either side of him stood Riza Hawkeye, clutching his hand, and General Grumman, who was giving Roy final instructions.
"Remember that it's not a good idea to get nervous, and answer everything as naturally as you can; I hear that many members of the Parliament can see right through the densest lie. I know you have a lot of achievements, but don't exaggerate anything or brag about them unless you're told to. Because I was the one who recommended you, I won't be asking you anything. I just came here to wish you good luck, and I'll be taking care of anything that will come up while you're being interviewed."
"Thank you, sir," said Roy.
"Be careful in there," Riza reminded him. "I don't want them taking back their proposal of making you Fuhrer just because you got too cocky with them."
He grinned. "I promise I won't get cocky. I'll have all the time to get cocky when I'm Fuhrer. And…if I don't make it…"
Riza gritted her teeth to keep from gasping or reacting in any way. This was almost like that scene outside Roy's house, when he was getting ready to destroy the Gate. He had told her that he loved her, just in case he never made it out alive. But he had, losing only his memory of wanting to demolish the great alchemic border forever and his consciousness for a few days.
"You will. I know you will," she whispered, fixing her eyes on his and knowing that in some way, Roy also knew what she was thinking, as he held her hands and leaned in for the kiss.
For a moment, they forgot that they were in Central Headquarters, in front of a very important room and nearing an important event. For a moment, it was all about them, just their own world. For a moment, they forgot the outside world, their duties to the State, even General Grumman. He just stood there, watching the corridors silently, but sneaking furtive glances at his granddaughter.
She really loves him, doesn't she? I knew I'd give my granddaughter to the future president of Amestris…but I never knew that she'd actually develop feelings for him and vice versa…
"I guess…it's time," said Roy, standing ramrod-straight again. "Better get this over with." He took a deep breath and grinned, one hand already on one of the door handles.
"I don't know why I wished you luck. You probably won't even need it," said Grumman, resting a hand on the aspiring Fuhrer's shoulder.
Riza frowned, looking as though Roy was going off to see his executioner. The Flame Alchemist let go of the door, clasped the flame of his heart close to him one last time before he disappeared behind the doors completely, leaving Grumman and Riza outside to stare after him.
"I don't know why I'm so worried," she confessed to her grandfather. "I mean, he really wants to be Fuhrer so badly that he's willing to work for it. Most people would balk and ditch the idea when they hear how much you would have to give for such a high position…but not the Major General."
"Well, he's no run-of-the-mill general, isn't he?" asked Grumman. "Come on, we'll have to take over if he's going to be in there for a long time."
While they finally left for their military duties, Roy found himself standing in the exact same room he had been several years ago, when he was one of the many alchemists who tried out for the honor of receiving the silver pocket watch, knowing that it came with a price – the military's leash. It was as dim as he had remembered, with the three-legged chair in the middle of a circular design etched into the floor. He had also wondered whether it was a real array or not, and even until now, he didn't exactly know.
In front of the chair was a long table. The Parliament members filled the seats, with a few generals and some of the members who weren't able to claim a seat standing like guards on either side. Some of them had notebooks, papers and pens; the rest just looked at Roy with stoic expressions and arms crossed.
"Good morning, Major General Mustang," they all chorused. But one Parliament member, a shriveled, thin old man with an equally grubby mustache, said, "Have a seat. Alchemy is all about balance, but so is the Amestris presidency. And because we know you've been here before, you should already know how to keep your seat stable – for the entire morning."
Roy stepped forward, pulled the chair, and sat down in it, perfectly remembering how he did it during his alchemy exam. At first he had a fleeting thought of himself screwing it up and falling flat on his behind in front of all the higher-ups of Amestris, but he quickly shoved it into the deepest recesses of his mind. Now was not the time to think of such follies.
"State your name and position," said a woman's voice that was clearly Karen Douglas'.
"Major General Roy Mustang, ma'am."
"And you are a State Alchemist, isn't that right?"
"Yes, ma'am – the Flame Alchemist."
"So, Major General, what brings you here? Do you know why you're here on such a wonderful morning like today?"
While wondering where the heck they put the tough questions, Roy answered, "I am here because I have answered your call – the call to become the Fuhrer of Amestris. I come here by my own intention, to hopefully lead the country to a better tomorrow to the best of my abilities."
A few Parliament members whispered among themselves, the standing ones leaning in to listen. Roy tried not to whistle or let his mind wander, well aware that they could pounce on him with a more difficult question at any given time.
Even before the whispers died down completely (and he had a feeling that they won't), another Parliament member said clearly over the rumblings, "Why do you come here to become Fuhrer? Why do you want to become Fuhrer?"
And pounce they did. Everyone fell silent, eager to hear the answer. Even the shuffling of papers and pens came to a sudden halt, and all eyes were on Roy, who silently kept his hands folded on his lap while thinking of something to say.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, and much to his surprise, his voice barely wavered and he felt more confident.
"Because I made a promise to my old friends that I would fix things and set them right. I told them that I would become Fuhrer not only for that, but also to save more lives than I can take, and have taken, as a State Alchemist. I want to be much more than someone called in to mow down the forces regular soldiers can't, and show everyone that it is possible to fix things without having to take lives. As an alchemist, I believe in equivalent exchange; but it is also possible to fix things without having to pay in lives."