Author's Note:

This is my personal love letter for the 20th anniversary of the FMA manga, and the 12th anniversary of FMA Brotherhood!

Note: This is a post-canon fic, so if you don't like to read stories that aim to continue the canon series, you do not have to read this!


meridian

noun.

- an imaginary line from the North to the South pole, where the East and the West hemispheres meet

- the highest point of success and prosperity; the zenith reached by the Sun or any celestial body

- the twelve pathways in the body along which vital energy or chi is said to flow

Act I: caeli (air)

Chapter One: The 520 Cenz Promise

Spring 1927

Until the day he reaches his goal.

The clock tower struck twelve, its loud, metallic clangor echoing throughout Central command's grounds. Riza mindlessly counted each bong, the numbers escaping her lips like a silent prayer. She has been waiting for this moment. He had been waiting for this moment.

Trumpets immediately roared from behind them, alerting everyone on the field and snapping them back into position like tin soldiers. Two groups of entourage marched towards the front podium from opposite directions, each man proudly carrying the national flag of Amestris, escorting two of the most important men in the country.

General Roy Mustang drew his hand up in a salute, standing in front of Führer Frederick Grumman at the center stage. Riza admits she almost couldn't recognize him with his hair slicked back in the way he always hated, his face bearing the most solemn expression she's ever seen on him. But what gave away this unfamiliar facade was his eyes, always certain and focused on something beyond what Riza could see. They were eyes that saw the future, eyes that always reassured her, eyes that burned with a desperate determination in seeing his vision come to light, in seeing their ideals come to life.

If I can help strengthen the foundation of this country and protect its people with my hands, that would make me happy.

Naïve, he used to call it. But she knew her dreams were far more hopelessly unworldly than Roy's.

Can I truly believe that there will be a future in which everyone can live happily?

It was the very reason why she entrusted him with her back, with the magic of flames, with the greatest and most powerful form of alchemy, as what her father calls it. But the power that flame alchemy holds was tantamount to the amount of bloodshed in the name of destruction, and the Ishval war was only a glimpse of its lethal capacities.

To anyone, it would have been obvious that flame alchemy only yields destruction. But she believed in her father's words, that a power this great was something that could make people's hopes and dreams come true. She believed it would someday be conducive to peace and prosperity, if such power was used to protect people from any threat they may face. At that time, the main threat Amestris was facing was the government itself, and the only way to reform the corrupt regime was to get on top of it.

If the world truly operates based on the principles of equivalent exchange, then we must carry corpses on our backs across a river of blood to pay for a future where the next generations would prosper. A future where everyone can live happily.

After telling Roy this ideal, she was surprised to know that he decided to entrust her with his back, the way she entrusted him with hers. Should he ever stray away from the right path, he gave her the right to shoot him. But this wasn't the only reason why she agreed to be his assistant, nor was it the reason she joined the military even after what she went through at war. To compensate for their crimes in Ishval, to attain a future for the next generations, she has to protect Roy. She needs to protect Roy.

Until that person reaches his goal, I will pull the trigger without hesitation .

Now if only everything was that simple. Riza had prepared herself for the worst, telling herself she'd put all her own needs second if it would help him become Führer. Yet she had failed to perceive one vital and pertinent detail: what if she was the one preventing him from reaching his goal?

Bradley and the rest of the homunculi have once held her hostage, immobilizing Roy from making any rash decision. Her throat was slit to force Roy into committing human transmutation, and by the look on his face, he was more than willing to do so if it meant keeping her from harm's way. Just when she thought it was all over, they found themselves caught in political predicaments: slander, false scandals, being tried for fraternization. She was always used against him, no matter what the reason was.

It soon came to her attention that for a man who wielded the most powerful form of alchemy and the highest position in the country, she was his only vulnerability.

Riza fidgeted with the buttons on her blouse, watching Grumman pin the last star on Roy's shoulders. This was the moment she's been waiting for since her father died, the moment she repeats to herself on the nights she couldn't sleep, the moment she silently chants when she remembers the prick of the needles on her back or the trepidation in her target's eyes. She longed for this moment whenever the lights went out, whenever she thought she felt ghastly shadows crawl up her spine. Most of all, she yearned for the moment she'd fulfill not only her duty, but also the promise she made back when her days were redolent with lavenders, magnolias, and the familiar sandalwood scent of a measly, dark-haired boy.

Now that boy was a man, standing before the crowd and giving them his final salute, basking in the thunderous applause.

Everyone was present in witnessing the promotion of the new Führer. From the highest military officials such as General Miles and Major General Alex Armstrong, with Armstrong clapping (and crying) the loudest. Other enlisted members had paid their respects by saluting, like Colonel Havoc, Colonel Breda, Major Falman, Tech Communications Fuery, Lieutenant-Colonel Ross, and Captain Brosh. There were also former state alchemists and researchers like Dr. Marcoh, Dr. Knox, Edward, Alphonse Elric, and even the new recruits such as Elicia Hughes. Last but not least, the government had also invited those who have resigned from the military such as Philip Gargantus Armstrong, Olivier Mira Armstrong, Rebecca Catalina, and, of course, Riza Hawkeye herself.

It wasn't like she was forced to resign from the military out of the vexations that fraternization laws imposed upon them. It was a decision she chose for herself . Just as it was her own choice to put on her uniform—the only thing protecting her from her crimes in Ishval— then it was her own choice to put it off. She knew that in time, her tenure with Roy would eventually hamper the growth in both their careers, with or without the threats of fraternization. Apart from that, she had only been making decisions according to what she thought her father would have wanted, what she thought Roy would have wanted. But what did she want? She knew she'd only gain true independence the moment she starts to make decisions for herself. To finally become her own person. To finally be Riza Hawkeye.

And so at the night before Roy's promotion, Riza had given him her resignation letter, sealing their contract. They both knew they reached the end of the bargain, where she'll watch his back until the day he achieves his goal. It was another debt paid, another promise fulfilled from the countless words she held in favor of Roy's ambition. Just when she thought she had cut all ties between them, Roy offered her another deal.

May I stay by your side in every path that you choose?

Upon recalling the memory, Riza let out a breath, suddenly noticing the weight of the ring hanging around her neck.

Emotions have always been chained and locked away inside a box at the farthest corner of her mind. Nowadays, she finds them shaking and rattling, demanding to be opened. It was as if every drop of adoration she has with Roy has accumulated over the years. From when she first met him as her father's young apprentice, when she entrusted him with her back, when she initiated romantic relations with him (a soldier two years her senior), to when she maintained a professional relationship with him as his subordinate throughout Bradley's and Grumman's term. She had kept the dam high against these emotions, and she's no longer surprised to find them overflowing when she gave him her response.

You know there's no need to ask.

It was as if she had been anticipating its first release for what seemed like an eternity.

However, they both know they'd pay the price for all the time they spent waiting. They were now in their forties, both at the peak of their careers. Roy was now being promoted to Führer, and Riza had accepted Olivier Armstrong's offer to work for her under the International Union. Despite being betrothed, they knew they'd have to keep it between them until they were at a less turbulent period in their lives. If she were officially Roy's first lady during his plans of changing the country back to democracy, their adversaries might use her against him once again. However, she admits she worries about what her absence might bring. With his plan of arms reduction and abolishing the state alchemist program, Roy had promised her he'd only use the power of flames when needed, if not, sparingly. Several nations had heard of his power after the territorial battle between Fort Briggs and Drachma, and this exposure somehow helped in gaining respect from other nations. If not, his power was a threat to them.

With that, Roy was already a few steps ahead, even before his promotion. Perhaps she did decide to resign at the right time.

Aside from all these, she wanted to break free from working with Roy and see what she could do on her own. For the first time in years, they were about to work separately, yet altogether at the same time. Riza believed she need not worry that their relations were different from others. If others plan to create their own generation in the future, then their goal is to create a future for the next generation.

Riza watched as Roy was still maintaining his salute, taking in the longest applause she'd ever witnessed. It was longer than when Grumman was promoted to Führer, and she admits she was barely tolerating the growing pain at her heels.

She saw how his eyes wandered aimlessly through the crowd, until he met hers. The curves of his mouth crinkled into a grin, into a charming smile that's different from the one he gives to political authorities.

For a split second, Riza saw him smiling back at her as his younger self, from when they first climbed a tree.

Have you ever wondered what the view looks like from the top?

Dark eyes beamed back at hers, twinkling with ambition. Riza gave him a smile just wide enough for Roy to see from afar.

Yes, we certainly made it.


The festivities after the ceremony felt like a feast. Delegates dined in the headquarters' ballroom hall, and Riza was surprised to see just how massive Central HQ truly was.

"I don't think I can take another bite," Breda groaned.

"Serves you right," muttered Fuery.

Falman dug his face in his hands. "Would anyone be so kind as to remind me why we agreed on going to Becca's Bar last night?"

"It was the Harvest festival. And you all promised you'd help me gain profit." Rebecca snickered, rolling her eyes. "All drinks were on him anyway."

They glared at Havoc, nauseous from his recent alcohol intake, his face contorting into a grimace as he took a whiff from his fruit punch.

Riza suppressed a chuckle. She would miss dealing with these presumptuous men. Her eyes then drifted to Rebecca and Havoc's linked hands, and saw that both of them were wearing matching rings. Somehow, she couldn't help but feel a sense of longing.

"And what about you, Miss Riza?" Alex Armstrong cut her thoughts, offering her a piece of spinach quiche.

"Thank you, Armstrong, but I've already had my fill," she told him.

"I'll have that, thank you!" Rebecca grabbed the plate, stabbing the quiche with her fork. "By the way, Armstrong, did you know that Riza will work under your sister from now on?"

Armstrong gaped at her. "Really?"

Riza nodded meekly.

"That's an international job!" He squeaked.

"I know!" Rebecca huffed proudly.

Armstrong maintained a pensive gaze, twirling his mustache. "So you did resign from the military after all."

"Yes, Sir," she confessed. She found herself uncomfortable with the conversation.

Armstrong must have noticed this when he cleared his throat, and turned to Rebecca. "How about you, Miss Rebecca?"

"Oh, I'm still running the shop downtown," Rebecca said as she popped a piece of quiche in her mouth. "Havoc and I have saved enough for our own place."

"Congratulations!" Armstrong beamed. "So when's the wedding?"

"I'll be sure to let you know," Rebecca chirped. "If you're invited, that is."

"How tragic."

They shared a round of laughter, and Riza admits she'll definitely miss their company.

When the laughter subsided, Armstrong turned to Falman, casually taking a sip from his fruit punch. "How about you, Falman?"

"I am now reassigned in the North," he replied curtly. "It would be better if I work closely with my family."

Riza remembered that Falman once showed them pictures of two of his children, and they both looked just like him.

"And you, Fuery?"

"I'll be setting up better communication wirings in the South," Fuery said as he beamed his brightest smile. "No more bombs this time, thanks to the former Führer Grumman."

"And I'll be working in the West, if you ask me," Breda interjected. "Nothing special. I just miss the more rural side."

"And I'll stay at Central." Havoc drawled. "I still owe Mustang. A lot."

"Don't tell me you placed bets again," spat Rebecca.

"Come on, Becca, you know I'm too old for that," he chuckled. "This debt is more of a priceless deal."

Riza smiled at the thought. Havoc must have meant the time that Roy offered to cure his paralysis. Now that he mentioned it, Roy seemed to be fond of making debts to everyone he met. If anything, he seemed to like gambling with the chances that he'd be Führer, using it as some kind of promise to those he owed something. Fortunately, the odds were in his favor.

"What about you, Armstrong?" Rebecca asked.

"I'll still be on Central Command," said Armstrong. "It would be the first time I work with Führer Mustang."

Führer Mustang. Riza tried to roll it with her tongue.

"Boy, you're all scattered all over Amestris," Rebecca sighed.

"Quite an advantage for the Führer's part," Armstrong remarked.

"Oh, but what about the situation in the East?" asked Rebecca, her voice squeaking at the end. "You know, since the 'Hero of Ishval' is taking over the country?"

Havoc drew his seat closer. "Dunno if you'll believe me but the Ishvalans respect us now!"

"Yeah, they used to throw rocks right at us the first time we came," Breda added.

Falman bobbed his head. "They slowly started to trust the government, especially since the Ishval Restoration Project proved to be a success."

"If Mustang used to be in charge of the East," Rebecca mused, "then who took over his place?"

"General Miles," Riza simply stated. "He was also able to elect an Ishval military officer to lead New Ishval in his stead."

"Interesting to know that more and more Ishvalans are joining the government."

"It certainly is."

"Amestris seems promising this time around." Armstrong took the last bite of his quiche before offering a toast. "To Amestris."

The rest of them at the table lifted their champagne glasses as well.

"To Amestris."

For the next few hours, they shared another round of ' how are you 's and 'remember when's . Surrounded by all the soldiers and officers she trusts the most, Riza couldn't help but feel that the future of Amestris will indeed be secure.

Then she realized this may be one of the last times they'll celebrate a milestone together as a squad. It was ironic, how moments like these seem to mean more to her when she knows it wouldn't last.

After the post-ceremonial festivities, Riza decided she'll head over to the Hughes' residence. She left Black Hayate, White Chianti, and their puppies there, as requested by Edward and Winry's children.

Just when she was about to leave the Central ballroom hall, she heard someone calling out to her.

"Miss Riza!"

Edward and Alphonse Elric skidded across the hall, barely halting right in front of her. She was surprised to see they were already inches taller than her.

"Miss Riza!" Al repeated, hands on his knees as he was catching his breath. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Yeah, that bastard of a Führer invited an entire battalion," Ed muttered, dusting his coat. "What a showoff."

Riza cocked her hips, amused. "How can I be of service?"

"Could you take us to the Führer?" Al immediately asked.

Riza blinked. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, there aren't any problems per se," mused Ed. "We owe him something, so it's time we give it back."

She raised both her brows. There goes another debt. "I would if I could, however, I already resigned."

The brothers gawked at her in response.

"Really?" Al almost shrieked.

"Huh." Ed scoffed. "I guess nobody could tolerate him for that long."

"I'm afraid so," Riza laughed along. "But I could at least escort you to his office."

Alphonse clasped his hands. "Thanks, Miss Riza!"

"Thanks, Lieu—err." Ed scratched the back of his head. "Thanks, Hawkeye."

Riza led them to the hallways of Central headquarters, the afternoon sun lighting the corridors with a tint of orange. She could almost see herself running paperwork down the halls.

"I gotta say," Al said after a while. "We almost couldn't recognize you with your hair."

Riza smiled sheepishly, running a hand through her chin-length hair. "Does it look that bad?"

"No, no, not at all!" Al chuckled. "I think it makes you look like a brand-new person. It suits you. "

"You're too kind, Alphonse," she told him. But she liked the sound of it. A brand-new person.

Suddenly, the intercom buzzed. "All state alchemists report to court-martial. I repeat, all state alchemists report to court-martial."

"Oh, right," Al muttered. "They're taking away the state alchemist program, so I'm gonna have to reassign someplace else."

"Alright," Riza acknowledged. "We could take you to court-martial first."

"Really? I hope you guys won't mind if we take a quick detour."

"No, not at all," she told Al. "Will you also report to court-martial, Edward?"

"Ah. Umm. I'm a state researcher now," Ed pointed out. "Unless they plan on abolishing that too."

"Oh, my apologies," said Riza. "But not to worry, there are no such plans as of now."

"Ha!" Ed huffed, suddenly pointing his finger at Al. "I'll get more funding than you this time."

"But, Brother, I'll be signing up as a state researcher too."

"Damn it, Alphonse!"

The brothers continued to bicker as they walked, and Riza couldn't help but shake her head. It was just like old times.

When they reached court-martial, only Riza and Ed were left in the hallway.

"So. Uh." Ed cleared his throat. "He really pushed through with abolishing the state alchemist program, huh?"

"Yes, yes he did," replied Riza. "I'm surprised you remembered."

"Yeah, yeah," he said as he slumped his back against the corridor walls. "And the arms reduction?"

"Yes, that too. The papers are currently being processed."

There was a moment of silence. Riza glanced to her side, only to see Ed rubbing his palm against the nape of his neck. He seemed nervous.

"Does that mean you'll be— uh, you'll get yourselves on trial? I mean, for the crimes you committed in Ishval." Ed finally said. "You once told me that was his plan all along, you know, for reaching the top."

Riza's eyes softened. "I appreciate your concern, Edward."

"Don't mention it." Ed dug his hands in his pockets, eyes on the floor. "So, uh, what's it gonna be?"

She drew in a breath. "We've once raised the matter to the former Führer Grumman after the Promised Day incident."

"And?"

"The verdict was restorative justice," Riza disclosed. "We have worked with the Ishvalans in rehabilitating their holy land, in order to deal with the aftermath of war."

"The Ishval Restoration Project?"

"Precisely."

Ed let out a breath, relieved. "I guess that makes more sense."

Riza nodded. She knew it wouldn't erase their sins, nor it would help in forgetting the lives they took. Even if they no longer have the right to bargain with death, choosing to spend the rest of their days improving the lives of those they have desecrated was far better than offering their life in exchange.

One life can never compensate for the lives of hundreds or thousands that the previous regime had slaughtered.

If there was anything she learned from the homunculi, it was that one life is still worth one life. It would be too confident of her to say that her death would absolve her of the crimes she had committed. And if there's one thing she learned from Scar and the Ishvalans, it would be about the true equivalent exchange: deconstruction to reconstruction.

The skies had begun to turn indigo when Al finished his reassignment papers. He apologized that it took him longer than he thought, and worries they won't be able to catch the Führer.

"He'll still be there," Riza reassured. After all, he might have a little trouble with his paperwork.

True enough, the office lights were still on when they arrived in front of the Führer's office.

"Oy, Führer bastard!" Ed barged into the room, his voice echoing throughout the hallway.

"Edward!" Maria Ross greeted him with a warm smile, stacking the papers on Roy's desk.

"And Alphonse, too!" Brosh waved his hands at them.

"Hey!" Al flung his arms open and gave the two soldiers a tight embrace.

"Ah, I could get used to this," Maria lilted, patting Al's back.

Ed looked around the office, seeming impressed. "You guys work here now?"

"Uh-huh," Brosh gloated. "Fancy, huh?"

"I'd say." Ed stopped in front of the large tapestry hanging on the wall. "I see you've got the map of the world here."

Riza eyed the world map as well, still amazed by the vast body of water it was showing. Amestris had been at war with other nations for so long that everyone started to believe the ocean was a myth.

"I'd hate to intrude, but what brings you all here?" Maria asked. "If you're here for the Führer, I'm afraid he's still at a meeting."

"Damn it, Winry's gonna kill me," mumbled Ed. "And I bet the kids will help her with it too."

"Not if you're with me." Al gave him a thumbs up.

Riza pursed her lips. "How long has he been away?"

"About two or three hours," Brosh said, filing books on the shelf.

"I see. Hopefully he'll be here in a while," Riza surmised. After all, he never lasts in a meeting that's three hours straight. "And, Captain Brosh, you might want to file those books in alphabetical order. The Führer is quite impatient when it comes to his readings that he'd rather not read at all if he couldn't find what he's looking for."

"Oh, duly noted!" His hands fumbled on the books. "Thank you so much!"

"May I ask about these stacks of papers as well?" Maria sheepishly raised.

Riza gave it a glance. "Add several more layers, even if nothing is written on them. Seeing plenty of paperwork would motivate him to start his work earlier than usual."

"I always knew they weren't misprints."

Maria Ross and Denny Brosh squirmed to their own desks. Riza snapped her head to the door, and watched Roy stride into the room. His hair was still slicked back, and there was not a single wrinkle on his uniform. It was as if he hadn't been exhausted the whole day.

"Giving tutorials now, aren't we, Hawkeye?" He caught her gaze as he passed by, and Riza rolled her eyes.

"Only because you failed to orient them."

"I knew I could always count on you."

"That's beyond my job description now, Sir."

"But you still ended up doing it." Roy chuckled as he sat down on his desk, resting his chin on his clasped hands.

His eyes then darted to the Elric Brothers. "Now this takes me back."

"Aren't you gonna ask why we're here?" Ed grumbled.

Al squeaked, "What my brother is trying to say is, we'd first like to congratulate you, Sir."

"Thank you, Alphonse," said Roy. "And, Fullmetal, I believe there's no need for me to ask."

Ed crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't get too cocky."

"Aren't you here to pay your debt?"

"Yeah. The 500 cenz."

"It was 520!"

"Were you always this petty?" Ed complained. He mumbled something to Al, who, in turn, gave him spare change. Riza admits she often mistakes Alphonse to be the elder brother.

Ed slammed the coins on Roy's desk. "There you go."

Roy slid the coins on his palms, eyes squinting on them as he counted with his index finger. "I'm only grateful you failed to short-change me."

Ed let out a high-pitched indignant grunt. "Do you really think I'm that cheap?!"

Roy only chuckled, shoving the coins in his pocket. "Are we done?"

"I'm afraid not," Ed spat.

"I thought so."

"I told you I'd borrow some more once I give it back."

"I haven't forgotten," Roy sighed, leaning into his desk. "And just how much would that be?"

"500,000 cenz."

"Five hundred thousand cenz?" Roy almost yelled, his voice squeaking at the end.

"You got that right," Ed confirmed. "And you won't get that back until this country becomes a democracy."

Roy seemed bewildered, scratching his head until his hair fell back to its usual disheveled shape. "May I ask what you would be needing all that money for?"

"We'll be presenting our research to Xing," Al declared.

"What sort of research would require all that money?"

Ed groaned. "Could you not think about money just this second?"

Roy pressed his mouth into a thin line. "Go on."

"It's still just a theory," Al started. "But we think it will also benefit the country, in a way."

"Actually, it will benefit anyone." Ed pointed out.

Riza placed a hand on her chin, and Roy, Ross, and Brosh seemed to be as intrigued as she was.

"Brother and I have pooled what we learned from the East and the West," Al went on. "And it led us to a theory that would help the people across the globe that are suffering because of alchemy."

"Like bringing chimeras back to their original bodies," Ed added.

Roy let out a deep breath, eyebrows furrowing. "You mean, to reverse the effects of alchemy?"

"We wouldn't call it 'reverse' per se," Al pondered. "The laws of alchemy are almost never linear."

" One is all, all is one ," Ed recited. "Every single thing in the world exists in a single cycle. It is the most basic and fundamental principle all alchemists should understand."

"However, we've only been taught that alchemy consists of three phases: Comprehension, Deconstruction, and Reconstruction," Al contended. "If the process stops at Reconstruction, then how do we get back to Comprehension again, without going through Deconstruction?"

Roy held a pensive gaze. "Then solely following these three phases violates the law of the cycle?"

The brothers nodded in unison.

"We theorize that there has always been a fourth stage," Ed remarked. "Something that can happen naturally, something that has always existed right under our noses."

"Something that could explain how rocks cycle, how the waters cycle, how life itself cycles," Al deduced. "From everything we've researched, our best guess would be Purification."

Purification. Riza felt a chill run down her back.

"Purification. The alchemical process of extracting impurities out of a substance," defined Ed.

"When I studied the Purification arts in the East," Al continued, "I noticed it involves twelve processes."

"And those twelve processes bear the same symbols seen in the Western scriptures," noted Ed. "Like it was some sort of cryptography."

"It means that this Purification process is something universal," Al concluded.

"This theory of yours," Roy contemplated. "Does it follow the laws of equivalent exchange?"

Ed smirked. "I thought you'd never ask."

"For starters, we know that humankind cannot gain anything without giving something in return," Al denoted.

"Yeah, and to obtain one thing, something of equal value must be lost," added Ed. "That is alchemy's first law of equivalent exchange."

"In those days, we believed that to be the world's one, and only Truth," continued Al.

"But it turns out there were many," Ed told them. "At least, there were many ways to convey one Truth."

"We noticed that borrowing "ten" and giving back "ten" only leads to a zero-sum gain," Al argued. "To counter the law of equivalent exchange, my brother and I thought of a new rule under that same principle."

"It's simple. We receive 'ten', and give 'eleven' in return," Ed proposed. "That way, there will be a mutual gain."

"And how would that be an equivalent exchange?" asked Roy. "If you are proposing it would be through offering 'generosity', then I simply cannot accept this theory."

Ed cackled in laughter. "That's the best you got?"

Roy glared at him in contempt.

"It would be like paying a debt," Al revealed. "The longer you borrow it, the higher the price."

"Like an interest rate?" asked Roy.

"Bingo." Ed drawled.

Roy still seemed perplexed. "And how is this related to converting chimeras back to their original state?"

"You see, it's just like any chemical or alchemical process." Ed circled his shoulders, perhaps preparing to explain a tedious process. "Any compound can be separated if they possess one property where each of its components has a different value from one another."

"Usually, this property is volatility," Al added. "In one of the purification arts called Distillation, a mixture of two liquids can be separated through their differences in boiling point. The substance that is more volatile gets to evaporate first, thus separating from the other substance with lesser volatility or higher boiling point."

"In living beings," Ed went on. "This volatility refers to the Spirit, the one that connects the Soul from the Body."

Roy cocked his head. "So this volatility you speak of… refers to how long the living thing can live?"

"Exactly." The brothers said in unison.

"And we believe that human souls are the least volatile of all," Al added. "As explained by the fact that humans are the only rational beings."

"So, basically." Ed cleared his throat. "Our theory revolves around offering one thing to the Truth."

"Something priceless, something everyone and everything in this world possess, something that's right under all of our noses," pondered Al.

"And it's something we can never get back once given." Ed placed his silver pocket watch on the table, his finger tracing the shape of the two triangles protruding from its metal surface.

"Time."


Author's Note

and no, this will not include Avengers: Endgame-like time traveling!

How do you like it so far? I'd love to hear your thoughts! You may also send me an anonymous ask if you're too shy.

What you have just read is the product of 12 months of planning lol, and I've dissected the mangahood for any clues on what might possibly happen after the canon series.

I will also post my analysis on the things I dissected from the mangahood and about my worldbuilding right here

I also plan to blog about my worldbuilding as a series of posts that I will call: meridian after hours (I will also link this here later)

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