"They are enemies of the state." Spat the radio host. "Enemies of the state, callous enough to be referred to as "state alchemists", but by whom? I'll tell you. Other alchemists and fools who sympathize with their cause are to blame. They have been referred to as protectors of the people, but what are they protecting you from? That's right, other alchemists. Isn't it clear? An alchemy free society, abolishing this science, is what's good for the people. Some fools call this a conformist rhetoric, but I call it the truth and I-."
Finally, Winry twisted the knob to silence the radio. Now she knew what she was up against. Following the defeat of the man known simply as "Father", alchemy had since been banned in Amestris. Despite the work of many in the military and people who could perform alchemy, Father's attack on the country left many with doubts over the benefits versus the harm in alchemy. Eventually, an uprising overthrew the military, and great numbers of the alchemists who helped in Father's defeat died or went missing. Some of the sympathizers and a few spare state alchemists were handed down with life sentences. Men like Louis Armstrong and a couple of the men who had served under Roy Mustang were rotting away in dank cells.
"Mankind is capable of being merciful," the radio announcer had declared, "one would not know this based on the actions of alchemists, but our country's new leaders ordained a life sentence would be more fitting for the following individuals…"
The announcer carried on with the list of names, Winry recalled the mortification she had felt when she had recognized some of her friends' names declared. These were people who had helped Edward and Alphonse on their journey, not criminals or terrorists. Several months had passed since that announcement. As time passed, the actions of the new government progressed, and more and more Winry came to see the evils in the actions of the new regime. Up until now she had stood at the sidelines, reading headlines and following along with current events. Each day there were reported skirmishes between left over factions and the new controlling power. In the headlines she would read of mobs killing people in confusion. Those counted among the dead or missing were Edward and Alphonse, who were reportedly killed while trying to storm Central, but neither of their bodies had been recovered.
Stories differed on the exact cause of their death, and due to the way the story was rushed, it was clear little was known. Winry was positive there was more to the story than the articles had led on. Although she could not say for sure if they were truly alive, Winry had a feeling in her heart that Ed and Al were still out there. Hushed whispers and shared gossip only supported Winry's intuition when she would overhear quieted conversations in public places between strangers. Allegations of a forming resistance ran rampant. Rumors circulated that homunculi still ran among humans, and it was the plan of the alchemists to set them upon non-alchemists. Fear did not stay homebound however, as many worried the country of Xing to hold alchemist exiles, aiding them in their revenge. Nothing was for certain anymore in Winry's world, and she had to find answers. Leaving her shop in her grandmother's hands, Winry was on a temporary leave in Central.
"Here goes nothing." Winry sighed. Slipping into her red heels, Winry's look was complete. She shifted uncomfortably in the mirror, wearing all red made her feel like a clown… or a walking target. Normally she wore whatever was the most practical, but today was different. To go through Central in anything but red was not only an outrage these days, but a crime. According the new leaders of the country, it was to represent the blood of the people who had suffered under alchemy's crimes. More and more, Winry felt as if she had entered a horrific world of science fiction, but it was her life. Wearing a dress that was once white, but hastily dyed red, she was trying to blend in. Winry was preparing her award reception for her automail skills. She had other motives for coming to Central than receiving some cheap medal for "human innovation" versus alchemy, or what they now called genocide. A knock rapped on her door.
"They're calling you in for the ball," called a female voice, the hotel manager. Winry was staying in the building that once housed people of military and alchemic affiliation.
"Just a minute," Winry replied. Just an hour, she promised herself, just one hour of mingling with people of forgotten causes and mixed identities, and then she would find Ed and Al. That was her main purpose and objective. She had heard rumors, but when she received his pocket watch in the mail, she knew it in her heart to be true. The things she heard were mixed, but overall they all agreed on one point, a resistance was forming. Edward and Alphonse were a part of it, of that she was certain. Opening the door to her room, Winry made a show of smiling for the manager.
"An escort is waiting downstairs for you." The woman informed.
"Thank you," said Winry, with false warmth. Walking down the stairs, Winry considered her plan. Her expression fell when she came to realize there was no plan, just a motive. She knew she had to find someone, but asking around could be dangerous. Those associated with alchemy were imprisoned or given therapeutic shock treatments, neither sounding appealing. Holding the rail tightly for support in alien heels, Winry walked down the stairs of the building thinking of Riza Hawkeye. Perhaps if she could find Riza, Winry could stand a chance of finding the resistance.
"Hello Miss Rockbell," greeted her chauffer. He was holding the backseat door to a car open. She nodded out of social nicety.
"Good evening." She said. He took her hand and led her into the car. Keeping silent, the driver said nothing more. Sitting in the backseat, she stared out the window, watching as people in red walked under fluorescent lights that turned their outfits a hideous brown. Curfew was approaching, and the citizens were thinning out as they found their way home. Another positive point of the award reception was avoiding this ridiculous curfew nonsense. Portrayed as a way to protect the people, it was just a poor excuse for controlling them. It was not until the streets had almost completely cleared that Winry saw something that would ultimately fixate her destiny. A person, thin and strange, slinked from the shadowy depths of an alley. Winry felt her breath hitch as the stranger looked directly at her. He was wearing all black, and bore a strange tattoo on his thigh. In general, he was a very bizarre person, the likes of which Winry had never seen before. Face filled with anger, his expression only drew Winry in further. Soon, the man was out of sight, and Winry felt stupid for thinking he had been looking at her, there was no way he had seen her through the windows at the speed they were going.
"Curious." Mumbled Winry, resting her chin in her palm, elbow upon the car door.
"So you saw that man too?" asked the driver. He was looking at Winry through the rearview mirror. Choosing not to reply, Winry simply returned the stare through the mirror. Taking this as worry, the man comforted Winry. "Don't be bothered by him. I shall report him for not wearing red. He's probably just confused."
"Why would you say that?" Winry asked out of habit. She should have known better than to have asked at all.
The chauffer, looking at the road, answered back in offense, "He's either confused or insane. No one who supports slaughtering millions by not wearing red is all that right in the head."
"Oh, so you can judge this all by what the color they are wearing?" asked Winry, growing testy.
"Well yes," defended the man, looking back at Winry with suspicion, "red is the color of honor and solidarity. To not wear red is spitting in the face of all who died."
Drawing back, Winry knew she had said too much and was now under scrutiny. Quickly she replied with something to reaffirm his belief in her. "Perhaps with some therapy he could be helped? Human innovation can overcome alchemic ignorance."
The driver smiled enthusiastically, enjoying the all too familiar words of their leaders. Carrying on about how true these words were, the driver no longer posed a threat, so Winry pulled out of conversation.
"The world is a safer place now. I'm glad that our country is finally free, you know?" asked the driver in a spirited tone. Winry, looking out the window, made a face. The driver did not seem to notice.
"Yeah, I guess." She said at last, giving the driver free range to carry on with his optimism. A wave of bitterness overcame her, hating that she had to lie so often. She missed the days of alchemy, where Edward and Alphonse were alive, or at least be out in the open.
"Ah, we're here," announced the driver. The driver slowed as they reached what was once the military headquarters of the old regime, now a monument to invention and progress without alchemy. Opening her door, the driver escorted Winry up the stairs and into the building.
"Thank you." She said rather flatly, tipping her head in forced gratitude. The driver tipped his hat in reply.
"You're welcome, anything for someone as pretty as you." He said, making her blush. From outside she could hear the music play and subtle tones of conversation and laughter. Winry's heart sank.