***SPOILER ALERT for Fullmetal Alchemist (2003) and Fullmetal Alchemist: Conqueror of Shamballa***
***MAJOR SPOILERS***
***I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, its characters, or universe; I just like playing with them***
***After defeating a German assault on Central, life moves on, but there are things still left undone, unsaid. Portals must be closed, a German Uranium bomb must be found/destroyed, while Amestrian/Xing intrigues must be maneuvered. Ed and Roy must navigate their worlds after The Invasion, but will they be able to defeat a growing threat to them both? ROY/ED Shamballa/2003FMA SPOILERS***
***Rated M for mature content, language, references to sexual acts, and sexual content***
***Yaoi Roy/Ed Ed/Russell***
***The Gate***
Central, Amestris, Nov 1917
Munich, Germany, Nov 1923
Roy and his team stepped out of the echoing stone tunnel to a vista overlooking the cavernous, dead city. Ruins littered the sunken floor. He was struck by all the lives lost here in the metropolis below Central and at the glowing portal shining brightly in the air, floating effortlessly above a deserted town square below where they stood.
"Lieutenants Breda and Havoc," he called to his dusty men caked in sweat and grime.
Their uniforms were disheveled from their efforts to dispel and defeat the foreign troops in metal armor and flying machines that had nearly destroyed Central. They had won the battle, but the day wasn't over yet.
"Sir," they spoke together behind him, stepping forward.
"Secure this entrance. Send teams to discern all ingresses and exits to this city. Lock them all down," he ordered. "This location is classified."
"Sir," they confirmed before turning to form their squads.
"Sergeant Fuery, set up a radio Comm station here to allow transmissions within this site to keep us in contact. Make sure each team has a radio. I don't want anyone getting lost," he commanded his tired, but determined, technician.
"Sir," Fuery saluted as he began setting up camp.
"Make sure that we have a secure line to the Führer's office as soon as possible."
"Yes, sir," Fuery nodded his understanding.
"Captain Hawkeye, Lieutenant Falman, with me. You and your men are to secure the point of entry," he commanded as he pointed to the blazing portal below them, yet floating in midair. "Nothing else is to come through. Is that understood?"
"Sir!" they replied.
"Move out," he ordered.
"Sir," they chorused again.
Roy led them down the ancient stone steps to the city's heart, just below the luminous gate. Roy considered the architecture of the levitating portal as he walked along the flat town square beneath the glowing doorway. The thick metallic border was embroidered with golden inlays of curling lines and blockish designs. Four sets of two fasteners stamped each side of the square opening.
Could he simply blow up one or all of the eight couplings marking the edge of the gate? He considered his options, rubbing his jaw in contemplation. Glancing down to the floor beneath his target, he took in the inactive transmutation circle.
Well, that would have to go.
He wondered how he was going to get rid of the gate and the circle. The center of the transmuted etching already showed debris and cracks in its center, but Roy needed to make sure no one would be able to remake this circle.
As he made his assessments, he noted the efficiency of his men and those they commanded. They made their way around the perimeter of the circle, leaving him to his musings as he walked the array's rim.
He was proud that none of them were gawking like children at the unusual advent of the portal. If he had had any concerns of a leak to the public about the gate, they would have been dispelled by the effectiveness and professional nature of the soldiers around him. It felt right to have his men with him once more.
"General," a young private called.
Roy looked over his shoulder as the uniform approached. He was holding something in his hand. As the man grew nearer, a sinking feeling filled Roy's gut. The private had a handful of Red Stones. Roy took a deep steadying breath and stilled his features. These were no ordinary stones, they were created from alchemical catalysts and human lives. How in the world had they ended up down here?
"Sir, I found these Stones littering the area. They seem to be foreign in comparison to the other rock samples I have already collected."
"Private Wolfe, is it?" Roy asked the young man.
"Sir," the man's eyes lit up to realize that the infamous Flame Alchemist knew his name.
"Good catch, Private Wolfe," Roy praised, knowing how important it was to know the names of those he commanded. It was one reason men became loyal to him. They knew he cared about each of them and wouldn't use them as cannon fodder. "I want you to take a Section of 10 soldiers and collect every Red Stone you can find. If they are out of reach, mark their location in detail. Make every effort to get each ounce you can find. Use your med bag tweezers if you have to," Roy said.
"Sir," Wolfe saluted and left to fulfill his new duties.
Roy would keep an eye on this man; he had a sharp sense. If he did the sweep well, Roy would recommend him for a field promotion to Lance Corporal or even Sergeant at day's end.
"Hawkeye," Roy called spinning around to look for his number two. He had missed her by his side, always at the ready.
"Yes, General," she said as she walked up to him. He'd already told her not to call him that. He was just an enlisted man, but he'd have to let it go, otherwise he wouldn't be able to command this mission and close the gate, like he'd promised.
"Put a man on each entrance with a set of tweezers and an empty pack. Seems there are a number of Red Stones scattered around the area. I don't have to tell you all the trouble Fullmetal went through when dealing with their power in Xenotime. I want every soldier's pockets and boots checked before leaving this cavern. Every ounce needs to be secured," he told her. "Have them report to Private Wolfe."
"Yes, sir," she saluted and turned giving the order over her radio. She knew how much of a threat those Stones could be. Even if she didn't, she would know by the general's hushed, somber tone and the shadow cast over his eye that he was worried, even behind that placid face.
Returning his concentration to the center of the alchemic circle to get the measure of the design, Roy crouched down to touch his fingertips to the ornate carvings. If they were in fact cut into the stone, it would be harder to destroy, but if they were drawn, he could burn the sketching off the rock face. He felt the rough edges of the painted rock face, nicking his finger slightly on a jagged edge.
A single drop of blood smeared along the depicted array. Taking everyone by surprise, the circle glowed blue for a moment before changing to a crimson, stinging Roy with a sharp scarlet alchemical discharge, a rebound.
All sounds of men at work stalled, and the crackling of power played loudly into the silence. Roy stepped away from the edge. The circle quieted again a moment later, but Roy was shaken. He wasn't going to take any more chances.
"Stand back from the circle," he said unnecessarily, as all the soldiers had taken cover.
Wiping his finger on his handkerchief, he tugged on his arrayed gloves and stood firm.
SNAP!
He clicked his fingers and thumb. Fire raced out to the painted ground smudged with his blood, leaving scorch marks along the pavement. It obscured the blood stained design, and Roy raised his hand again.
SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!
It looked like the Earth itself was on fire. He used his alchemy to burn all the remaining lines into blazing charred blackness. The flames had burned so hot the stones looked melted together.
Once satisfied that no one would be able to read even the hint of a pattern, he let the flames die out, turning his attention to the shining yellow gate. It floated there with no physical supports, taunting the fabric of reality.
Roy considered the task at hand as those around him began to move again, missing the looks of awe in his soldiers' glances. He was confident that if he did destroy the couplings, it would cause the supports that were holding the gate open to fail; however, he was unsure if that failure would lead to the closing of the gate or a widening of an uncontrollable rift between worlds.
After seeing the way the circle had reacted to his blood, he was sure the power fueling the portal was a primordial one. Blood had been used in ancient alchemy to fuel transmutations or to control the reactions, whereas modern alchemy relied on the simplification of runes and circles to perform the same processes. Today's streamlined arrays allowed the alchemist's will to direct the manipulation of matter more directly, rather than rely on the brute force blood provided. It was the difference between a water skimmer bug stepping on the surface of a lake and a man like Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong wielding a sledge hammer.
He would need to do some more research before he could move forward. He needed to know which pressure was being exerted on the portal. Was the frame pushing the rift from the center outward, in which he could destroy the couplings and be done with it? Or, was the frame pressing inwards as if containing the portal? If it was the latter, he would definitely need to find another way of closing the gate. Perhaps he could transmute the frame to synch closed, like a drawstring?
"General Mustang, sir, your secure line to the Führer's office is connected," someone from the communications team with Lance Corporal pips on her shoulder said. He thought the woman's name was Whitworth.
"Thank you, Lance Corporal Whitworth," he acknowledged as she held out the line to him. He noted her posture rise just a little. Good, he'd gotten her name right.
"Corporal Mustang, sir, or should I call you 'Brigadier General Mustang?' Everyone else is," came a familiar female voice.
"Really," he stated more than asked. He had figured as much. When he had arrived at the front of Central Command to a strained defensive line, he had snapped his flames and given orders, orders that were followed as if he had not given up his command two years ago. "Sheska, I'm sure it will be settled soon enough," Roy remarked.
"Führer Grumman is on his way, sir," replied the Führer's secretary.
"I see," he considered. "Maybe you can help me with something before you connect me. Have you ever read anything on portals to other worlds, Sheska? More specifically on the portals themselves and what keeps them open?"
Why go to 10 different libraries when one calls you? He hoped Sheska's photographic memory might help him save a couple of weeks in the dusty restricted sections of the State Alchemists' libraries.
"Um… actually, I did read some theory papers on trans-dimensional portals," she paused. He imagined that she put her finger on her chin, looking up and to the side, as she remembered all the faded bound manuscripts verbatim. "They seem to all agree that these portals are theoretically possible, but their construction is under debate.
"Arguments appear the most contentious about the pressure needed to keep them open," she deduced. "The power required to open, much less create a permanent portal, would be astronomical; however, a Professor Westland argues that older alchemic arrays may hold the key to create a circle able to control that much power. The only problem would be making sure that the portal created had the necessary strength to keep it from closing in on itself. If you look back at the histories…" she continued.
"Wait, go back," Roy interrupted. "So the debate is not on the direction of an open gate's pressure, but on the power source to create and maintain it? Do, they all agree that the portal needs to be strong enough to stay open, not to restrain an expanding force?"
"That's about right. I guess they all think that portals need to be held open, not kept from widening further," she concluded.
"Excellent," Roy cheered inwardly. That solved one problem; all he had to do was break the frame of the gate, and it would collapse inwards on itself! He put his hand over the receiver. "Hawkeye?" he called.
"Sir?" she walked over, perplexed by his upbeat tone.
"Remind me to send Sheska some flowers when we get back above ground," he smirked.
"Yes, sir," she said rolling her eyes but smiled at his exuberance. He had made a complete about-face from his earlier worry; Sheska had given him some superb news.
"Sheska?" he turned his attention back to the phone.
"Yes, Brigadier General?" she asked.
"Know anything on Red Stones or Red Water?" he asked, pressing his luck.
"Sorry, sir. I haven't had a chance to read those files yet," she sounded bereaved. "But I remember one of the authors on the top of my pile. His name was Nash Tringham. I hope that helps," she said distractedly. "Oh, and here comes Führer Grumman, sir."
"Thank you, Sheska. You have been enlightening," Roy said with a smile on his face. Hadn't Fullmetal run into the Tringham boys in Xenotime? Yes, something about completing their father's work and pretending to be the Elrics to do it. Roy would have to look up the young men when he was done here. He put his hand over the receiver again, "Hawkeye?"
"Sir," she said from right behind him.
He spun around, and mouthed, 'Find the Tringhams' at her as Grumman came on the phone. She nodded and left him to his call.
"Ah, Mustang, m'boy," the Führer toned over the line.
"Führer Grumman, sir," he spoke aloud. "I have an update for you on the point of invasion."
"Good job, Mustang. Now tell me your progress," the Führer ordered.
"Sir, we have locked down the location of the breach. All entrances have been secured. The transmutation circle used to open this side of the gate has been destroyed. Red Stones have been identified and are currently being collected. The portal itself is still open, but an attempt to close this gate is about to commence, sir," Roy reported. "Fullmetal and his brother, Alphonse, are on the other side working to close the doorway there," he said more softly.
"Ah, good man, that Fullmetal. Remind me to give him a promotion, would you?" Grumman sympathized. "Finish what you are doing there, m'boy, then come find me at Central Command. Seems we need to straighten out your rank and State Alchemist status," the man chuckled. "The Civilian Assembly is clamoring for the Generals' Council to reinstate you. Might get a little dicey with you coming back to Central at the rank of Brigadier General and named Flame Alchemist. You up for the challenge, Mustang?"
"Sir, I will serve my country in whatever capacity she may need me, sir," Mustang recited as he straitened his back and popped his chest out a little, but kept a neutral tone in his voice and a blank cast to his face.
"Alright, Mustang, alright. At ease," Grumman laughed again. "Just come find me when you're done. I've had Sheska draw up the paperwork just now, and a moment ago the entire Generals' Council voted to authorize your reinstatement. All you'll need to do is sign."
"Sir, I'd like my old support team with me, if possible," Roy requested while the iron was still hot.
"Of course you would," Grumman exhaled. "Well, if they want back in your command, have them submit for a transfer. I don't think the Council will be able to deny you anything right now."
"Thank you, sir," he said as he ended the call. He turned to see Hawkeye smiling at him. "Hawkeye, clear the area."
Once the men were at a safe distance, Roy was poised to snap. He took a deep breath and hoped that Fullmetal and Alphonse would forgive him as he snapped his fingers, aiming his fire at the couplings surrounding the portal. Almost like a vacuum, the excess flames were pulled into the gate. Roy reeled them in, and with pinpoint precision, destroyed all eight couplings simultaneously.
Time stood still for a split second before a deep groan was released into the waiting, forgotten city. With a snarl, the frame holding the portal open came ripping and crumbling inwards, like a dam of matter pouring into the opening between the worlds in a rumbling cacophony of unknown sounds. It snarled and groaned, scrapping to prevent its demise as it folded in on itself, clawing wildly at the space above the abandoned city. With a final sharp clap that echoed through every chest, the gateway was there no more.
***Eating Crow***
Central, Amestris, Nov 1917
Munich, Germany, Nov 1923
"Hey, Al. Can you tighten the rope on that right connector?" Ed shouted, golden ponytail swishing behind him as he circled the edge of the opening in the middle of the floor, just below the floating portal. The square gate levitated evenly with the third floor landing of an opulent German villa.
"Ok, Brother," Al's young voice rang out over the open space. His dark olive eyes and long, dirty blond hair brimming over the far edge of the gate's frame.
Rubbing his chin, Ed considered the construction of the gate as he gazed up to it. The frame of the portal was a warm metallic square with two couplings on each side. Within its confines, a yellow glow of powerful waves oscillated.
It was weird having a glowing portal floating six stories above the floor of the subterranean rocket factory. But really, it was just weird to have a floating trans-dimensional portal.
Ed and Al had done a lot of reading during their search for ways to get their bodies back, most of which they had decided were useless. In fact, they had laughed their asses off at some of the crackpot theories they came across, like those of Professor Westland and his ideas on trans-dimensional travel.
Well, they'd had to eat crow now that they knew trans-world travel was not only possible, but Ed and Al had lived through the journey. What was it, five times now for Ed? Twice fighting Dante, once to give Al back his body, and twice again through this specific gate, the one they were trying to destroy.
Ed shifted his attention to the couplings. If Professor Westland was right, then all he and Al had to do was destroy all the fasteners in one move, then the gate would collapse in on itself, closing for good.
Nodding to himself, he turned, grabbing the barrel behind him. Raising it to his shoulder, he crossed to the stairs and climbed to the third floor.
They had to hurry, though, and do it before Lieutenant Hess got back. They had to make sure Hess didn't find them here either. That block of a man was superstitious, ignorant, and quick to shoot; it was a bad combination. He was sure to react badly if he were to find Alphonse Elric, Alfons Heiderich's doppelganger, alive and four years younger than the man he had shot dead earlier tonight.
Since Eckhart was dead and Haushofer was not interested in pursuing a trip to Amestris (since it wasn't Shamballa and the Germans had gotten the shit kicked out of them), Hess was the only one leading the Thule Society now.
Ed knew they were short on time, though. He walked the gangplank connecting the third floor landing to the floating gate and put down the barrel. He leaned over the edge of the frame, pulling the loose rope, looping it over the new drum he had brought.
"Brother, wear your safety harness!" Al shouted over the roar of the open portal.
"In a minute, Al, I have to tie this end off before, otherwise it'll get in my way," he said.
Man, was it fucking great to have Al back, even if it was to nag him. The golden eyed man smiled to himself as he leaned down to tighten the rope around the left coupling.
A burst of fire came ripping out of the gate, making Ed lose his balance in his surprise. His feet got tangled in the ropes, and he slipped off the frame.
"Brother!" Al cried as he watched helplessly.
Grabbing erratically for anything to stop his descent, Ed fell backwards. Free-falling, his arms flailing wildly, he caught hold of a loose cord with his prosthetic right hand. The sudden stop as he grabbed hold yanked his shoulder with a sharp jolt. He slid down its length, using his momentum to swing to the ground floor landing, just outside the gaping hole in the center of the floor below the gate.
"Fucking Mustang!" He yelled as he touched down. "Get off that damn thing, Al!" He waved his free arm then gripped his pained shoulder where metal met flesh. "If Mustang's in the middle of destroying their gate, who knows what will happen to this one! He might set off the barrels!" He shouted to his brother.
He should have known that bastard would use his damn flames.
The hollow building echoed with a groaning, scrapping, gnawing noise. It sounded like the gate was a wounded animal, and it was pissed. A few seconds later, Ed was joined by his younger brother on the ground floor. A final loud clap resonated to stillness. The remaining gate seemed unmoved, but whirled slower, with much less suction. Well, that was quite the show. No lightning, but lots of thunder.
"Well, at least Brigadier General Mustang was able to close their side," Al commented optimistically.
"Yeah, well," Ed spoke with a deviant smile. "Now it's our turn."
An hour later, the Elric brothers lit a fuse and ran for cover. They both covered their ears as the sparkling line separated into eight different paths and reached the barrels of rocket fuel tied to each coupling on the gate's frame.
With a string of wild percussive beats, metal snarled and shrieked. Ethereal clatter bounced off the stone walls amplifying the noises. Their sight was filled with the world rushing into a pinpoint until there was nothing left. It all ended with an irrevocable clap that echoed in their hearts.
'And there goes our only way home,' Ed thought defeated.
There was a long pause while the brothers looked at the space where the path home had just been a moment ago. The portal between worlds that had cost their father his life, along with three homunculi, was gone. A gate to a war torn Central was closed for good. They had done what they came here to do: close the door and protect their home.
Now there was no going back.
"Wow," Al whispered into the deafening silence. Looking to Ed, Al asked, "So, now what do we do, Brother?"
Ed took a deep breath as he turned towards his younger brother.
"Let's go back to my apartment," Ed replied sullenly as he thought about the little place above Gracia Johann's flower shop that he had shared with his dead best friend. He would never call it 'home.' "I still have to make the arrangements for Alfons'… for Alfons'… for the funeral," Ed's voice cracked a little.
Officer Hughes (Maes Hughes' German doppelganger) and Noah (Rose Thomas' psychic double) had taken Alfons' body to the funeral home while Ed and Al had begun work on closing the gate. Seemed Officer Hughes had had a change of heart, seeing Alfons like that. Ed's new German allies had said they would take care of Alfons until he could be there.
Ed couldn't believe he was still on his feet after the day he had had. Actually, he had only slept a few hours in roughly 48 hours. He had been investigating Haushofer's villa the day before yesterday when he had found their transmutation circle. He'd accidentally activated it when a stupid ass smear of his blood from his cheek had been transferred to the circle via a bloody smudge on his gloves, returning dead Thule soldiers from Amestris.
After hearing the commotion, fucking Hess had shot at him. And not just that fuck head; all the men Hess commanded had opened fire. To escape the bullets Ed had hidden in the pile of dead metal clad men; he'd found Al there, alive, albeit attached to armor again. Once they had escaped the barrage, Ed and Al had had one brief moment of peace by the river before Al's soul returned to Amestris. The departure had left Ed alone again, but relieved his younger brother was alive.
When he had gotten back to his apartment that morning, Ed had gotten a call from Fritz Lang, and he'd made the long round trip between Munich and Berlin. The two had talked about Thule and parallel worlds, but in the end, Ed had basically called Fritz a coward, not wanting to stick his neck out to prevent chaos in Germany, and Ed had left.
When he had gotten back, he'd grapped a few hours' rest before dinner at the beer hall. His neighbors had sidelined him with the news that they were going to try a coup de ta that night and that Noah was helping them. Fritz, who had evidently driven down to Munich after their chat, had saved him, helping him fly over to the Thule Society's villa. Ed had hoped to stop them from opening the gate, a part of the coup, only to have Hohenheim… no, his dad… sacrifice his life and Envy's to send Ed home.
Seeing his father die in front of him, with nothing he could do, Ed had fallen to his knees in his grief. Eckhart, the driving force behind Thule, had shot him in the prosthetic arm, seeing no more use for Ed. He had been knocked unconscious by the fall from the second landing overlooking Alfons' factory in the villa's basement. Finding Ed unconscious, Alfons had strapped him to a rocket and sent him home through the portal.
When Ed had arrived, Winry had already been there to fix him up like always, replacing his prosthetics his father built him with new automail. After that, he'd had to run off to fight rocket powered airships in the battle field of Central with his alchemy available to him again. Once Mustang, Al and he had beaten Eckhart, he had come back through the gate.
Upon arrival, he had found Alfons dead, a grieving and repentant Noah, as well as a despondent and shot Haushofer. He also discovered a stowaway, his brother Al, but this time, the thirteen-year-old was flesh and bones. It was weird that Al looked thirteen instead of seventeen, but Ed had been so happy to have his brother back, he didn't care.
Since then, they had been working all night to close the gate and paint over the ceiling's transmutation circle. Now, it was finally time to go to sleep. Then he would have to deal with the details of burying his best friend.
It was exhausting just thinking about it all, and his body was beginning to feel the strain.
"Alright, Brother. Let's go," Al agreed as he placed his hand on Ed's shoulder in consolation. Al didn't know the man who had been Ed's confidant, the man who had been his doppelganger, and the man who had given his life to send Ed home, but Al knew that his brother had lost someone important.
"Rose, I mean, Noah said she'd have food ready by the time we get there. You'll feel a little bit better after you have something to eat and get some sleep," Al promised. It was still confusing for Ed's younger brother, having people he knew, yet didn't, going around with the same faces but different names.
Ed, feeling his sleepless hours, turned to Al, sad to have lost so much, but happy to have him back.
"Yeah… alright, Al. Let's go."
As they left, threw a lit match into the Thule Society's library, sparking the fuel they had poured earlier, burning the secrets of how to open the gateway between worlds. Now only four knew: Ed, Al, Haushofer, and Hess.