READ THIS AUTHORS NOTE! IT MENTIONS PRIZES!
Hey guys! It's me again, Hells Eternal Fire. Already i'm on the 3rd goddamn chapter of this horrible story and I have had no reviews! c'mon guys! Amp it up a little bit! Knock in the reviews!

Oh, and I would also like to announce the start of... Da da da da daaaa~ Longer chapters! Yahoo~ (Ok, now i'm starting to sound like Italy)
I would also like to thank the Hetalia MMD Anti the Holic for inspiring this story. If you watch it then this story will make a lot more sense. Here's the link; /fThtsb-Yj0w.
PRIZES HERE!

Also, I would like to get the review train moving by setting up a bargain. The first ten people to review will get cyber cookies! And they will be able to choose an omake relating to either Hetalia or Fullmetal Alchemist or both, for me to write as an extra at the end of the chapter. (Also the omake has to be slightly related to this story... Sorry!) The next 15 people to review will be able to pick a character of their choosing (preferably a hetalia character) that they want to show up in this crossover. (It has to be from Fullmetal Alchemist or Hetalia) AND the first 25 reviewers will be able to choose 1 line of dialogue from either series, or something that they want a main character (America or Britain or Alphonse or Edward) to say.

And please, the reviews have to be legit. They can't just be: Hi! My name is- I want you to do this!

NO NO NO! You have to actually critique my writing or give me advice or something or your review won't count! Anyways... Story!

Time flows here with no hassle or haste. Wisps; remnants of memories slip through my head with the grace and eloquence of Old English. As subjective as time is, my mind paid no heed to the passing of hours or minutes. How long have I been here?

A day?

An hour?

A minute?

A year?

My subconcious is the only thing active within myself as I float around in this bleached, white, room. Imagination was my only friend, and from it sprung things from the past; Old pirate stories from England's younger days, fairies, green flying bunnies, maple syrup, twin towers, the burning of york, the revolutionary war. Moments haze through me, causing my outer body to shudder and cringe. Making my heart pound with, fear? No - with excitement.

Wait, my heart... Is beating?

Aren't I supposed to be dead? Then why am I alive? It's impossible... All this white, am I in a hospital? Where am I?

My chest starts to clench tightly and my mind reels as it processes my conscious thought for the first time since "waking up." My ears pick up a horrid sound in the background. The sound, like gravel on a blackboard grated my hearing until my ears only rang.

I widened my eyes in an attempt to opened them and only stopped when I realized they were already open. After I realize that, my ears and head goes warm with a fuzzy feeling. almost like static over a fighter pilot intercom, I can hear clippets of what I think is speech...

Meri...Ameri...Americ...America!...Wake Up... I need you... America!

Then, the world pitched sideways and the spectrum changed to one akin to an old television show; black and white. My mind finally registered the horrible grating noise to be my own rasping voice.

And then,

All was dark.

Artie's (England! My name is England you bloody wanker!) P.O.V.

My heart beats in my chest, an erratic rythem that strained against the confines of my ribcage. Pant's filled the dank room that I stood in, breath tying to come under control. I took a final shuddering breath before I stepped forward and begun to draw the first line of the transmutation circle.

All of that work comes down to this moment. All of the studying, writing and migraines boil down to this task. I can't fail! America is counting on me!

I abruptly lurched forward, after tripping over a loose cobblestone. Cursing, I brushed myself off and turned around, black cloak catching the air and flowing dramatically behind me. Looking toward the floor, I see that I had completed the circle. Bloody red lines splattering into intracate swirls and symbols adorned the dusty, dark floor of my cellar. All I needed now was Alfred, or whats left of him, and the ingredients.

I started digging in the deep wollen pockets of my cloak, one-by-one drawing out the ingrediants necessary to re-create Alfred.

Water, 35 liters.

Carbon, 20kg.

Ammonia, 4 liters.

Lime, 1.5kg.

Phosphorus, 800g.

Salt, 250 g.

Niter, 100g.

Sulphur, 80g.

Fluorine, 7.5g.

Iron, 5g.

Silicon 3g.

And fifteen other elements.

These are all the ingrediants needed to re-create a human body. These materials could be bought in our every-day, over the counter prices in your every-day supermarket on pocket change! Really, the human body can never cease to amaze me, so strong and resilliant, yet bought so cheaply when it really matters, how pitiful.

I chortle to myself as I allow the dry humer to sink in. How very pitiful indeed.
But, I ponder, what could bring Al back? What could recreate his laughter, his eyes filled with joy, all of the wonderful, precious things that he would do and say for others, and most of all, his hugs. What could replace Alfred? Sure, here are all of the ingrediants inside of a human, but, there is something missing. Truly, what could recreate a human soul?

A sacrifice.

But, of what sort? Is it something drastic? Like taking one of my limbs? Or is it something more subtle like taking some of my blood?

From what iv'e read, human alchemy isn't forbidden for no reason. No, everyone who has tried to do it had been killed in the process. Bodies mutilated and bloody, hunks of muscle hanging off odly protruding bones, just hanging on by their tendons. I shudder when I try to imagine my body torn up like that, the shock and horror on everyones face when they discover my... Snap out of it! I will succeed!

But what of that sacrifice? Oh right, the gate. It will take the thing that I wanted most out of this forbidden act. What do I treasure the most? What do I long for the most? It dawned upon me that I actually didn't know what I wanted out of this. All I wanted was Alfred back, but what do I truely wish for?

Perhaps I could sedate the gates longing with only a small sacrifice. With that In mind, I stepped up to the heap of ingrediants and quickly sliced open the palm of my hand. Allowing my blood to splatter on the ingrediants, sinking deep into them, turning the air putrid with copper and sulfer, dyeing the powder a dark black.

Looking upon the scene I created, I took a moment to admire what lie before me; Alfred's body... erm, bones laying in a tub behind the heap of ingredients for his new body. Both surrounded by the neatly drawn symbols, swirling over the uneaven surface of my floor.

I slowly bend down, clearing my head of any doubt. Placing my hands on the floor, I feel the unforgiving cold seeping through my thick leather gloves. Is this how it felt when Alfred died? Cold and hard? If it was, I pity him, for no-one should have to die alone.

I bend my head down, closing my eyes and imagining myself in a different place in a different time; laughing next to Alfred while sitting upon soft green grass, watching as Alfred's upturned face shone with joy as it is illuminated by the exploding fireworks above.

Oh right, happy birthday Alfred.

I sigh and inhale one last time before chanelling all of my energy, my willpower, my love into the remains in front of me. White lights danced around me as I looked on in amazement as the vague shape of a human body took form. Soon though, the light increased dramatically, causing me to need to close my eyes. I strain to open my eyes again when I saw him, Alfreds body standing up and offering me a hand. My hand moves automatically, and I find myself embracing my younger brother again, alive and well and...

Then with a powerful wave of pain to my body, I go slack and everything gets swiped away.

If someone were to look upon this scene, some would call it haunting; a man with large eyebrows, albeit a handsome face, bowing down to a mass of ingrediants and the remains of a human body. Others would call it beautiful and angelic; A man with the looks of an angel kneeling down, as if to worship, the passing of a loved one. Light swirling around him and illuminating the area with a white glow. Both are right, Arthur, in this moment was both an angel and a devil. Performing the most forbidden of acts all for the sake of a smile from a loved one. But what they didn't know about this man is that he would ultimately start a new era. This act that he performed nudged the cogwheel, causing it to start rolling. Starting the clock once again.

HAHAHA this writing is horrible! How do you guys read it! Anyways dudes, review! It would make me happy! And also, this IS NOT a USUK or a UKUS fanfic, Arthur simply loves America as a younger brother. And please review, I can't start the rough draft of the next few chapters until I figure out who i'm writing about. So review and pick your characters/omake/sentence/cyber cookie!

Oh! And this chapter is shorter than most of my long chapters so they'll get longer, or do you want lot's of chapters but very short, so many decisions!

So review!

-Hell's Eternal Fire