A/N 1: Just keep in mind that I'm only portraying how some people behaved in the 1930s and 1940s, so please don't take this to heart. I know people aren't thinking clearly with what's been happening lately regarding social justice.
CHAPTER WARNINGS: Xenophobia, racial slurs and mild language. Trigger Warnings: Racism and mentions of typical period white supremacy.
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Amestris, Continental Calendar, July 20, 1919
At the moment, Roy was engaged in a fierce battle with one of his most nefarious contenders. His good eye twitched and so did his fingers as he studied the gigantic pile of paperwork sitting on the inbox tray; the temptation to set fire to the thick stack was too strong to ignore.
This belligerence wasn't a mere frivolity on his part, it was a behavior rooted in the belief that no one should be subjected to the cruelty of mindless paper signing.
Principles aside, the Brigadier General believed he as a reasonable man.
Before departing for Resembool, Roy had made his peace about having to deal with the paperwork and with every mundane task that came with performing office duties, but the towering giant sneering at him was much worst than he'd anticipated.
Roy's mouth set in a grim line, having decided to pierce through the first layer of his contender. He picked up the topmost folder from the stack. He flipped it open and began reading only to stop after the third sentence.
Another request for time off.
"Great," Roy groused to himself. He leaned back in his chair and let out an annoyed sigh. He closed his eyes. What wouldn't he give to have some time off, especially now since he couldn't concentrate on anything.
Roy sighed again before straightening in his chair. He took the folder again in his hands, skimmed through the request, only to put the folder down again.
Corporal Green wanted to travel to Aurego. If Roy remembered correctly, the corporal had said that his fiancée lived close to the south border. Was his subordinate going to take his girl for a vacation? Perhaps they were eloping? Roy supposed this could very well be the case since it matched the rumors going around Central Command.
"Well, good for you, Charlie," Roy chuckled, amusing himself as he took his pen in hand to sign the request. He then closed the folder and tossed it into the outbox tray.
File number two waited its turn for attention but Roy couldn't bring himself to do it. What if the folder contained yet another request for time off? A lot of people around him were married or engaged or had a girlfriend or boyfriend of their own to merit requesting off duty time. And what made things worse for Roy was that they all reminded him how lonely he was. Sadly, Wendy had been the closest thing to a relationship he had in a long time, and she wasn't even aware of it. Roy chuckled ruefully, feeling like the pathetic loser he probably was.
Roy didn't get to spend much time berating himself as someone had knocked on the door. Soon after, First Lieutenant Breda entered the office.
Roy was sure he was looking as pathetic as he felt. Thankfully, Breda refrained from commenting, but the way his auburn eyebrows arched told Roy all he needed to know.
Breda broke eye contact before things got weird between them. He cleared his throat, and said, "Alex Louis Armstrong is here."
Roy sobered up pretty fast. "Please send him in," he said shortly after.
Breda nodded. "I'm on it."
Roy let out the breath he didn't know he was holding once the Lieutenant left his side. "Wendy," he mumbled, knowing she was the reason Alex was risking being seen around Central Command.
"Good morning, Brigadier General," said Alex Louise Armstrong as he walked inside the office.
Roy broke into a smile. Alex Louise Armstrong was a walking contradiction: an imposing giant who possessed the grace and elegance of a swan. And yet with all the gallantry Alex had bestowed upon him, Roy could see the tension in his friend's face.
"Please sit down," Roy offered, motioning to the closest chair. Alex gave him a nod and sat.
Roy relaxed in his chair just enough to relieve the mounting tension in his shoulders but not so much as to diminish his commandeering presence.
Then seconds began to tick away.
Needless to say, Alex's silence started grating on Roy's nerves. He cleared his throat, having decided to break the ice between them. "What's so important that'd you risked coming to Central Command?" he said, going straight to the point.
Alex's eyes widened a fraction. He sucked in a breath, one he let out slowly. Finally, he said, "Mrs. Rockwell requests to speak with you."
Alex risked their mission for this? Roy leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk. He hid his frown behind his interlaced fingers.
Alex, sensing his displeasure, added, "She requests speaking with the Flame Alchemist."
Roy's eyebrows arched in surprise, but then dipped into an even deeper frown.
Alex was a prudent man, so how was it that Wendy knew about his State Alchemist title? He was about to ask Alex if he'd disclosed any personal information when the brawny man beat him to it.
"Mrs. Rockwell says she knows Fullmetal."
Roy leaned back in his chair. "Really?" He was definitely not expecting that.
Alex nodded once, then added, "She also called me by my old State Alchemist title."
Roy leaned forward, reassuming his previous posture. After a long moment, he said, "That'll get my attention."
"As did mine," Alex concurred. "And as you can tell, this couldn't wait."
Roy unlaced his fingers and pressed the TALK button in the intercom. "Breda, please clear my agenda for the rest of the day." He released the button.
"Heading out, sir?" Breda's gruff voice crackled through the device.
"Correct," Roy said as soon as he pressed the button.
"Do you need me to call the carpool?"
Roy considered the offer for a second. He pressed the TALK button again. "That won't be necessary. I'll hitch a ride with Mr. Armstrong." He released the button only to press it one more time. "If someone asks, you can say Mr. Armstrong and I have pending business."
"Affirmative," Breda replied.
Roy pushed his chair back and stood up. He went to the coat rack. "We should get going," he said as he put his black coat on.
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Armstrong Residence
Roy couldn't quite place when he first started looking forward to having a conversation with Wendy Rockwell. If he had to guess, he probably started having that idea while he was smuggling Wendy into Central. One thing he was sure of, he definitely was waiting for this moment to happen ever since Aurelius Armstrong induced Wendy out of the coma.
Roy had pictured their first exchange as something resembling a meeting between new friends, where he would ask Wendy questions about her, and she would ask the same of him. He would move on to questions about inter-world travel only after being satisfied with the initial prodding. And finally, he would ask Wendy if she knew who Winry Rockbell was, and her possible relationship to her—if that is how one would call their surreal connection.
This was a no-nonsense plan, a winning plan, the kind of plan good ol' Maes would've executed, but things had changed. In a short amount of time, Wendy had proven she wasn't a damsel in distress nor a victim caught in the middle of an insidious plot for world invasion and potential domination.
Roy knew from the confiscated ID who Wendy Rockwell really was, he simply chose to ignore it. Maes sure would've scolded him for thinking with the wrong head. And thinking with the wrong head, he did, for he chose fantasy over sound reason. Now, his slip in judgment could cost him, and his unit quite dearly.
Roy slid on his mask of cool indifference as he followed Alex Louise Armstrong into Wendy's room.
The time for childish fantasies was over.
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Roy had to steel himself when his good eye made contact with Wendy's silvery gaze. He chose to ignore how his treasonous heart leaped with joy when the beautiful stranger smiled at him.
"Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, and the Hero of Ishbal," Wendy greeted amicably, yet her smile turned impish as she announced his infamous war title.
Roy didn't know what to make of this; Alex did, though. The burly man smiled at Wendy, then at Roy, and left the room but not before offering Roy a long look.
Roy understood the unspoken message: beware of Wendy Rockwell.
Wendy's amused giggles snapped him out of his musings. Roy returned his attention to her. He studied Wendy in silence, trying to figure out her angle.
"Roy Mustang, you're a handsome man, if I say so myself," Wendy purred. She even tucked a lock of hair behind her ear to drive the point through. "I should've known Edward would keep that tidbit to himself." She paused for a second, then added, "And my God you look good for your age. You must share your secret!"
Despite the jarring nature of Wendy's comments, Roy managed to remain calm and collected. "All thanks to a healthy diet and plenty of exercise," he finally replied with words that dripped sarcasm.
"And a trusty brand of hair dye, right?" Wendy winked.
Roy blinked a few times, having being caught by surprise with that jab.
Wendy offered him a conceited smile. She clearly was enjoying perturbing him.
Roy felt heat rising to his face, but it wasn't from blushing.
Wendy fell silent. She switched tactics and was now studying him, the sparkle in her eyes a telltale sign of overconfidence, something Roy could use against her.
"Is that how we're going to play this?" Roy countered with a tight smile playing on his lips.
"Whatever do you mean?" Wendy gasped in feigned offense.
Wendy's overly dramatic flair made Roy laugh. He pulled a chair next to the bed and sat.
"This"—Roy waved a hand at Wendy—"seductress act it's so cliché." He paused long enough to observe Wendy's reaction before continuing. "And quite frankly, it doesn't suit you at all."
Having had his say, Roy leaned back and rested his right ankle over his left thigh. He also crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for Wendy to explode—because Wendy was going to explode. He had an inkling that Wendy was the type of gal who hated sexist comments.
And as suspected, Wendy fumed almost instantly.
"And what makes you so sure?" she scoffed.
Roy made sure to treat her with the same kindness she'd treated him. He couldn't help but smile conceitedly. How the tables had turned. The thought made his smile spread wider across his face.
"I'm my own person, Roy, so stop assuming something I'm not!" Wendy hissed.
Roy's smug smile faded. Wendy was seething with contempt and her outburst was far too disproportionate to the dynamics of the conversation. Perhaps he'd gone too far?
Roy dropped his right foot onto the floor. He leaned forward and put his bent elbows on his thighs. He stippled his hands together and gazed at Wendy with a serious expression.
"I'm going straight to the point, Mrs. Rockwell: What's your mission?" He wasn't going to play no more games with her.
Wendy was still glaring, but the question seemed to soften her expression. "What?" she uttered as if she didn't understand the question in the first place, then it clicked. "I don't have a mission," she spat as she narrowed her eyes at him.
"But you're a spy, Mrs. Rockwell."
Wendy's eyes widened and her jaw dropped open. "A spy!" she cried. She then started gulping like a fish out of water. "How preposterous!"
Roy sighed. He was starting to get tired of her theatrics. "You come from another world, Mrs. Rockwell, and that makes you a spy," he stated before sighing again.
Wendy blinked a few times as if refusing to acknowledge what she was being accused of.
"Touché, my dear alchemist, touché," Wendy said at last, though the comment seemed to had been directed at herself rather than at him.
Roy snorted, realizing that Wendy was trying to derail the interrogation again.
"Tell me about Edward," he asked. He wasn't going to give her a chance to spin her web of deceit.
Wendy's shoulders stiffened and her mouth flattened to a grim line upon hearing Fullmetal's name. Strange. She hadn't reacted this way when she spoke the name herself.
Gone was the flirt who'd been trying to toy with him; the sullen-looking woman who'd taken her place made Roy feel quite uneasy.
For once, Roy was at a loss for words. Part of him wanted to force a confession out of Wendy but the other part wanted to leave her alone.
Unfortunately for Wendy, he was bound by duty to his country, and to Miss Rockbell, who he swore to bring back home.
"What is your relation to Fullmetal?" Roy pressed on though he left the heat out of his voice, that he could do for Wendy Rockwell.
Wendy held his gaze for a long moment. "Well, I'm his wife," she said without much preamble.
Wendy might as well had slapped him in the face while at it. Roy tried articulating some words but his mouth wasn't cooperating, all he could do was stare back at Wendy in utter disbelief.
But eventually, the shock subsided and anger took its place.
Roy recalled Maes mentioning that he wasn't cut off to be an Intelligence Officer. Maes was right. A low chuckle rumbled deep from within Roy's chest. It must've been quite disturbing for it made Wendy sit straighter on the bed. Good.
"I've heard plenty of stories throughout my life, Mrs. Rockwell, and that one"—Roy stood up, his dark eye never leaving Wendy's sight—"that one takes the prize."
"I'm not lying," Wendy reiterated.
Roy forced a smile to his lips. "Look. I understand you're scared because you failed your mission—"
"I'm not lying!" Wendy cut him off.
"Stop!" Roy roared. Then he fell silent, realizing he was starting to lose control.
"Edward Elric is my husband," Wendy said in a quieter voice.
Roy turned to Wendy. Why the persistence? he couldn't help but think. It didn't make any sense!
"And his brother Alphonse is—"
"Let me guess, he's your brother-in-law," Roy sneered sarcastically when he interrupted Wendy.
"And my lab assistant," she contested.
"Now you're incriminating Alphonse?" Roy scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.
He narrowed a glare at Wendy, knowing he'd fallen again for her games. Roy snorted in disgust—not at Wendy for making a fool out of him—but at himself for having lost his touch for reading people. Maes was probably rolling in his grave about now.
Roy stared at Wendy a little longer before finally making his way to the door.
"Where are you going?" There was a tinge of panic in Wendy's voice. It was too late now, he was done with her.
Roy reached the door, but the seed Wendy planted had quickly taken root. He decided to indulge Wendy for the last time by answering the question.
"I'm heading back to Central Command, Mrs. Rockwell, where I'm going to inform my superiors about your existence." Wendy paled but he didn't care. He continued, "They sure are going to love having a conversation with you—I mean the Amestrian Invasion is still fresh in everyone's mind."
Wendy's brow arched in confusion, but that had nothing to do with him at this point. Wendy Rockwell missed her chance at being heard. At least something good came out of this: Wendy would keep his superiors from sniffing around and ruining any attempts at rescuing Miss Rockbell.
Roy was about to leave the room when Wendy conveniently spoke.
"When did this happen?" she asked, her voice all but a whisper.
Wendy's meek voice had the gall to pull at the strings of his heart; Roy cursed at himself for being so weak.
Going against all logic, Roy decided to hear Wendy out. He turned around, but not before making sure his emotions were kept in check.
"Oh? Are you ready to talk?" he taunted her as he approached the bedside.
Wendy bared her teeth at him and refused to answer like a petulant child.
Roy snorted, recognizing Wendy had nothing of value. He shook his head at her, showing his disappointment.
He was already making his way to the door when she cried, "Just—answer the question, please!"
Roy stopped. He turned around and met her gaze. Wendy looked absolutely terrified. She wasn't faking it, of that he was sure. So he decided to appease her mind by answering her plea.
"Two years ago."
"No!" Wendy gasped. "Oh, God..." She covered her gaping mouth with both hands.
Wendy having a mental breakdown was the last thing Roy expected to happen. He rushed to her side.
"Wendy, please calm down—" he said, but a frantic Wendy cut him off.
"What's today's date?—please, Roy!"
Despite his better judgment, Roy felt the need to acquiesce. And, so he said, "It's June 20, 1919."
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"On January the eight, 1940, we began Test Number 13 at The Annex. Alphonse Von Elric, as he's known back on Earth, left my side for a moment. I knew he was stalling since he didn't approve of me moving the project ahead of schedule, but I had my reasons for doing so."
Wendy paused to take a sip of her tea. She put down the cup in the saucer and continued where she felt off.
"I didn't think Al would go as far as to get Edward on-site, but he did. Needless to say, I was furious at them." She took another sip. "My life's work was based on finding a way to bend space and time to transfer a physical object across a vast distance almost instantaneously."
Wendy stopped for a moment, most likely to give him and Alex some time to process what was being disclosed so far. Roy turned his stunned gaze to Alex and noticed he was staring at Wendy with a blank expression.
Wendy decided to continue.
"The layman's term is teleportation." She expelled her breath, and added, "I locked myself in the teleportation room, intent on bringing Test Number 13 to completion."
Wendy fell silent, her expression distant as if she was reliving the sequence of events that led her to this moment. Finally, she met their gazes, and said, "I never imagined I would be traveling across worlds."
She fell silent again.
Alex kept to himself, and Roy didn't know what to say. At least he was glad that Wendy was finally cooperating.
"That is...quite the story," Roy finally managed to say. He glanced at Alex before returning his gaze to Wendy. "But we've dealt with stranger things," he added.
"You mean the homunculi," Wendy supplied as if they were discussing a trivial matter.
Roy snapped his head her way, and so did Alex.
Wendy offered them a bashful smile before saying, "Edward spoke about them." Her expression suddenly changed as if realizing something. "I always thought Ed had a hyperactive imagination." She sighed. "He could've been quite the novelist..."
Even though this had nothing to do with him, Roy couldn't ignore the feeling of guilt that started tugging at his heart. Perhaps Wendy's story reminded him of his failure as a mentor to Edward—as strange and as irrational as that might be.
"You speak quite fondly of Edward, Mrs. Rockwell," Alex mentioned.
Wendy blinked as if coming out of a trance. She looked up at Alex and contemplated him for a brief moment. "Is that so?" she finally said, her head titled to one side.
Roy could tell the question even surprised her. Wendy must've realized this too for she returned her gaze to the teacup resting on her lap.
"I guess so," she added in afterthought.
Roy frowned, recognizing in Wendy the signs of profound sorrow.
Unfortunately, he was about to shovel in more grief.
"On July eight, Winry Rockbell disappeared," he said.
Wendy snapped her head towards him. "She did?"
The look of shock in Wendy's face cleared any remaining doubts of duplicity. At last, Roy felt it safe to lower his guard.
Roy shook his head. "I'm afraid so."
Wendy looked down. "Of course she did," she sneered not long after, her initial surprise replaced with sheer cynicism. "Heh—that's the Law of Rhythm for you."
Roy arched his eyebrows. "The law of what?"
Wendy glanced up. "It's what you alchemists call Equivalent Exchange," she replied sarcastically.
"Can it be reversed?" Alex asked.
Wendy shifted her attention to Alex, and said, "As above, so below." She paused as if searching for the right words. "Anything is possible under the right circumstances."
Roy tried not to frown, but it was almost impossible to conceal his feelings. Wendy's cryptic words had sounded less like an explanation and more like a bad omen.
"Think of a pendulum swinging back and forth, reaching opposite poles," Wendy offered, sensing his unease.
"Okay?" Roy said, not knowing exactly what she was getting at.
Wendy gazed at him for a moment, then said, "Let's put it this way." She held up the index finger of her left hand. "I want to return home; that's one pole." She held up the index finger of her opposite hand. "But, does Winry want the same? That's the other pole." Wendy then lowered her left hand but kept the right one up. "One event, with two possible outcomes," she said while raising the adjacent finger, indicating the number two. "That is the Law of Rhythm in action, and the pole that has the most attraction manifests."
"Why wouldn't Miss Rockbell want the same as you?" Alex scoffed, visibly upset by Wendy's answer.
"Why wouldn't she indeed," Wendy replied, her face closed.
Roy was surprised that Alex hadn't caught the insinuation. Perhaps Alex did, but the man wasn't about to acknowledge it anyway, after all, Alex had a soft spot for both Edward and Alphonse. Not him, though.
Roy might not be in the same league as Maes Hughes when it came to reading people, but at least he was capable enough to discern certain types of character.
While he was relieved to have learned that both Edward and Alphonse were alive and that they had managed to make a life on Earth, he wasn't all too pleased of finding out that the brothers were still causing trouble, something that was especially true in the case of Edward.
Having being Edward's mentor, perhaps his own selfishness and arrogance rubbed on to the older Elric. But even if that had been the case, there were limits to how selfish one can be. He wouldn't have been so cruel as to marry a person that resembles another just to fill a void in one's own life. Wendy didn't have to say it but it was obvious that she knew Edward had married her because she reminded him of Winry, though he never saw that one coming. No wonder why Wendy got offended when he presumed her to be like Miss Rockbell. The sudden realization made Roy feel like a jerk.
Roy turned to Wendy. "You look tired, Wendy—it is okay for me to call you by your name?" He asked because he wasn't going to presume anything again.
It took Wendy a few seconds to react, but when she did, she said, "Of course—but only if I can continue calling you Roy."
Roy thought he saw Wendy blush, but maybe he was reading too much into it. At least Wendy was smiling again.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," he said with a smile of his own. He then turned to Alex. "Hey, Alex, I'm stopping by tomorrow."
Roy was overstepping boundaries but it was for a good reason.
"You're always welcome here, my friend," Alex nodded.
"Thanks." Roy then turned to Wendy. "Wendy, I'll see you tomorrow."
Wendy's smile stretched wider. "See you tomorrow, Roy."
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Earth, February 5th, 1940 A.D — Early Morning
Admiral Montgomery opened the New York Times with a loud flap. Impassive blue eyes skimmed through the finance section. Yet another article on the economic crisis the nation was currently undergoing(1). Jean folded the newspaper in half before tossing it across the lustrous desk. The chair creaked as he stood up.
Jean went to the cabinet. He took out from the middle shelf a small humidor, a fancy gift from the esteemed Benjamin Rockwell. He returned to the desk and gingerly sat back on the chair. Jean flicked the brass tab open; the heavy aroma of tobacco quickly filled the air around him.
There few things in life that could bring a smile to Jean's hardened face. A fine Partagás(2) was one of those things. This particular Cuban cigar was strong and masculine; and, like him, it was powerful.
The Montgomery name was synonymous with power.
The Montgomery's of the past rose to power in their native Texas, first by building up their cattle business, then by branching out to other commodities such as oil and natural gas. But the Montgomery's solidified their status when his grandfather broke into politics. Not long after, his grandfather got invited to join the Freemasons, the very same fraternity the Founding Fathers belonged to.
Like his grandfather, his father lived and breathed politics and Freemasonry. So intense was his devotion to the Lodge that he managed to rise to the coveted 33rd Degree faster than his fellow brothers. Now, as the head of the Montgomery's, it was his turn to take his rightful place along the Illumined.
Reaching the highest level in the Lodge was something that normally took time. Jean wondered what kinds of secrets were going to be open up to him the day he climbed to the top, but for now, he had to endure mingling with plebs. At least he wasn't a mere Initiate, like most of the men surrounding him.
During his college years, the Brotherhood of Skull and Bones offered him the first morsels of true power. The Brotherhood had its hands everywhere. Jean was one of the first brothers to learn that the Thule Society was researching Shamballa: the mythical land that appeared time and again in the writings of different cultures around the world.
Years had passed since then, until one day, when opportunity set eyes on Jean.
Rumors reached his ears that some unknown forces brought down the mighty Thule Society when they were at their peak of influence and power. The unfortunate incident made Jean curious.
Jean took a risk and used a large chunk of the family's fortune to finance the retrieval of certain documents belonging to the fallen Thule Society. He paid top dollar for everything regarding Shamballa. It had been a risky gamble, one that could've gone horribly wrong if the documents ended up being nothing more than baseless fantasies, but the gamble paid off.
Jean learned that around twenty years ago, select members of the Thule society managed to break into Shamballa. Old records described how to cross into the other world by using Celtic magick that was to be combined with the teachings of an obscure branch of Kabbalah and the core alchemical principles of the Middle Ages.
Excited by the possibility of becoming a modern conquistador, Jean used yet another portion of the family's money to finance a trip to Germany.
The trip came with its share of problems as the turmoil in the region kept escalating. Jean finally reached Munich where the secret gate to Shamballa resided. All hopes and dreams came crashing down the moment he arrived at his final destination.
The infamous Thule castle laid before him in ruins. The locals told him, after many bribes, that one day the castle went up in flames. But even with bribing no one was able to tell Jean how the castle met its terrible end. Everyone he asked told him the same: that the place had always been haunted and that they were glad the place got destroyed.
Jean returned to America empty-handed. The failed trip pushed the family a step closer to financial ruin. It was then when he decided to dig his claws into politics in a desperate effort to recover part of what he'd squandered.
About a year after returning from Germany, one of his old Skull and Bones brothers offered him a position in the Navy. While it was rare to assign people with little field experience to high military positions, it wasn't unheard of. Jean did have the correct credentials and he did graduate from Annapolis with the highest of honors.
Jean got assigned to Norfolk Naval Base. It was a mediocre life, one that he abhorred. As Admiral, Jean tried his best to forge strong relationships with powerful people living in the area, to no avail. He did, however, discover that an old Skull and Bones member lived close by.
Benjamin Rockwell became an inseparable colleague and close friend. In time, Jean discovered that Benjamin shared a passion for true knowledge just as intense as his. Because of this special bond, Jean felt it safe to share the secret of Shamballa with Benjamin. While he wasn't trying to be an outright swindler, Jean was looking forward to his friend fully financing all future undertakings.
Jean saw the first signs of duplicity while hearing Benjamin discuss the details of the Shamballa Project, as it came to be known.
Jean was certain Benjamin knew more about Shamballa than he was leading on. The day came when he decided to put his mind at ease. He wasn't a fan of using drugs to loosen people's lips, but Benjamin hadn't given him any other choice. The barbiturate Jean used on Benjamin worked wonders.
Just as Jean suspected, his friend was keeping secrets from him. Benjamin was so knowledgeable about Shamballa that he didn't refer to it as Shamballa itself but as Amestris. Things got even more interesting when Benjamin babbled about his daughter marrying an actual Amestrian.
Benjamin's information regarding a pair of brothers called Edward and Alphonse Elric helped Jean put together the puzzle of what happened in Munich decades ago. It'd been the Elric brothers the ones responsible for destroying the Thule Castle and with it the only way of reaching Amestris.
Unfortunately, that new bit of information put an end to the Shamballa Project. Jean felt angry: at Benjamin, for leading him on a wild goose chase; at the Elric brothers, for destroying what could've been the most important discovery of all times; but mostly, he felt angry at himself, for losing his place on the game of power.
Defeated, Jean returned to his mundane life. He stopped visiting Benjamin, he even forgot about Shamballa.
Talk about the prowess of the atom made Jean decide to place a bet on technology rather than on the supernatural as he'd been doing since his college years, thinking that if he could find a project that could give him a competitive advantage, he would return to his rightful place in the game of power.
Two years ago, he found what he was looking for.
Doctor Wendy Ann Rockwell, gave the most intriguing of
presentations. She was looking for a military sponsor who would make her dreams of teleportation a reality. Jean agreed to sponsor Wendy knowing that whoever managed to bend space and time would very well manipulate the world. And finding out that Wendy was the wayward daughter of the proud Benjamin Rockwell, had been the cherry on the top.
The intercom crackled, snapping Jean out of his reverie.
Jean pressed the TALK button. "Yes?" he spat in annoyance.
"QMC White has arrived for your 1300 appointment," squeaked his assistant through the system.
Jean blinked then looked at the clock hanging on the wall. Indeed it was 1300 hours. Jean had been so immersed in his world that he forgot all about the mongrel.
Jean pressed the TALK button again. "Send him in."
He released the button and got comfortable in his seat. It had only been yesterday since he sent QMC White to do his bidding. If the rumor about Wendy's double was true, then his subordinate was about to tell him quite the story.
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"Mr. White!" Jean greeted the Quartermaster Chief as he entered the office. "Do sit down," he added signaling the man to sit on the chair across from his desk.
QMC White hesitated for a second, but quickly recovered and took a seat. Jean smiled inwardly knowing well that the man was expecting a lashing and not words of camaraderie. Best to keep him walking on eggshells.
"Good afternoon, Admiral Montgomery," Clarence said as he sat straighter in his chair.
Jean leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk and interlacing his fingers as he studied his subordinate. He remained quiet for a brief moment just to mess with the man. Finally, after having his fill of fun, he said, "Speak, boy!"
Clarence blinked, clearly taken back by the terse words. He cleared his throat, then said, "I did as you ordered, sir."
A sly smile spread across Jean's face. "Do go on," he said, his voice inviting. "And don't spare any details, I want to hear everything that happened in the Rockwell Estate."
Clarence's eyebrows dipped in mild confusion. He stared at Jean for a few seconds as if trying to figure out what he was up to. "Mr. Rockwell was upset when he hanged up the phone. He wasn't aware that his daughter had gone missing a couple of weeks ago," Clarence said and paused a moment before continuing. "He arrived at the estate late at night. There was a party going on, my Ma said they were celebrating Master Edward's birthday."
Jean snorted softly. The mongrel must remain unaware of the deep-seated hatred he harbored against the intruders.
"A commotion exploded in the kitchen. Mr. Rockwell was having a fight with Master Edward who at the time was spending some time alone with their guest," Clarence said.
Jean couldn't help but notice that the mongrel had become distracted. "Tell me about the guest, if you're so kind."
Clarence blinked as he focused his attention on him. "The girl's name is Winry, sir."
"You can do better than that!" Jean goaded playfully. In truth, he already knew about the Rockwell's guest thanks to the retard that works at The Annex. It only took some mild threats to make that fat turd Wallace spill the beans about how a young girl resembling Wendy materialized in the location Wendy was supposed to reach.
"She's about twenty—a pretty little thing—according to Ma," Clarence added, but then he became distracted again. Jean took this as an act of insolence.
"Is it too much for your kind to follow orders?" Jean retorted angrily, the flimsy veneer of camaraderie cracking a bit.
"I don't know how to explain this," Clarence said, the sincerity in his dark eyes told Jean he wasn't trying to be disrespecting.
"Just try me," Jean said in a softer voice, the same kind of voice he used on his dogs when they weren't obeying his commands.
"Well, sir, my Ma told me something that's—just impossible," Clarence mentioned. "She said that this Winry looks exactly like Mrs. Wendy did when she was young." He shook his head. "She said that it's as if Mrs. Wendy had a long lost twin, one that is many years her junior."
Jean eyed the humidors sitting to the side of the desk. He planned to smoke another cigar right after the nigger left his office. But Jean's celebration had to be put on hold since the Quartermaster wasn't finished.
"It wouldn't be a problem if this young lady was related to the Rockwell's but apparently Mr. Rockwell was upset by her presence, not only that, Master Edward presented her as a friend of the family."
Jean gave his subordinate a shrewd look. "When you mean 'a friend of the family', you mean the Rockwell's or the Von Elric's?"
"The Von Elric's," Clarence replied, then fell silent like before.
"What is it?" Jean pressed, knowing there was more to the story than his subordinate was telling.
Clarence looked away for a second. Finally, he returned his gaze to Jean, and added, "Ma says the girl refers to the Master as Edward Elric." A pause. "The girl speaks to him and his brother as if they've known each since they were little, but both Master Edward and Master Alphonse are at least fifteen years her senior."
Finally, the mongrel was telling what Jean had been waiting to hear in the first place!
In his excitement, Jean spoke without thinking. "Has your Ma ever heard the word Shamballa or Amestris?" he said.
There was a visible change in the Quartermaster's demeanor, it was as if the man himself recognized the names.
Jean frowned. It never occurred to him that people other than Benjamin Rockwell would know about Shamballa. The lack of response from Clarence finally shattered what was left of Jean's benevolence. "Spit it out—now!" he yelled in exasperation.
"I've heard the mentioning of Amestris when I worked in the estate," Clarence stated.
Jean was clenching his jaw so tight that his molars began to hurt. He forced himself to draw a long intake of breath. He needed to calm down otherwise he was going to put his subordinate on high alert, something that would become problematic as he wasn't about to share the secrets of Shamballa with trash. He would kill the nigger if it ever came to that.
"Yes, I heard of it too," Jean said, in a measured voice as he tried to correct his blunder. "It's a fairy tale Von Elric told their children to keep their minds occupied." He chuckled. "Wendy has told me time and again that her husband is quite the storyteller."
The Quartermaster nodded in agreement though Jean could tell he hadn't believed a single word.
"Thank you, Mr. White. That is all for the day," Jean said as he pushed his chair back and stood up. Clarence stood up as well.
Jean escorted the mongrel out of his office, his face twisting into a look of profound loathing as soon as he shut the door close.
Jean turned on a heel and walked up to the window. He looked up at the stall gray sky, the Cuban cigar all but forgotten. After a few long minutes of quiet contemplation, Jean returned to his desk. He picked up the phone and dialed a phone number he knew by heart.
"Good afternoon, may I know who's calling?" asked a woman on the other side of the line.
Jean instantly recognized the voice. "Rita, would you be so kind as to patch me over to Benjamin?"
A few beats passed by before Rita burst into life on the other side of the line. "Admiral Montgomery! It's been years since I've heard that charming accent of yours!" she cried out. "Mr. Rockwell is away from his desk at the moment but I'll have an operator transfer the call to his current location."
"Thank you, darling," Jean chuckled. He all but forgotten that Rita had a crush on him.
Jean heard a few clicks before the phone began ringing again. "Admiral Jean Montgomery, what a surprise," Benjamin said after the fifth ring.
"It's been a while, my good friend," Jean said as if time hadn't come between them.
"Yes, it's been a while," Benjamin said in a dry tone.
"I heard you were in town," Jean mentioned, knowing that he had a small window of opportunity to capture Benjamin's full attention.
"Well, yes, I was visiting my daughter," Benjamin replied on the spot. He grew silent, if only for a moment. "How do you know I was in town?" he said not long after.
"I have my ways," Jean said while doing his best to keep the smugness out of his voice. "But you didn't find your daughter at home, now did you?" Jean added, and crossed his fingers, hoping Benjamin would take the bait.
"How do you know this?" Benjamin asked after a prolonged silence.
A smile of utter satisfaction crossed Jean's features as he pictured Benjamin's look of utter shock. "I already told you, I have my ways," he said, smugly, this time around.
Benjamin didn't answer, which meant he was either weighing his words or he was about to hang up. Fearing the latter, Jean sprang into action. "I can help you get Wendy back."
This was going to be Jean's biggest gamble. Unlike before, this time around, he was certain he was going to come out victorious, especially after verifying that Wendy Rockwell had indeed found a way into the mythical Shamballa.
The other side of the line was so silent that Jean thought Benjamin hung up. He was about to say something when Benjamin's voice traveled through the line.
"I'm staying at The Willard(3). Be here by noon tomorrow." This time, Jean did hear the unmistakable click of disconnection.
Jean replaced the receiver on the telephone base then leaned over to pick up the humidor. He took a cigar in his hand—courtesy of his dear friend Benjamin—and lit it.
Jean mused, as he puffed his cigar, that he was going to have his cake and eat it too.
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Amestris, Continental Calendar, August 21, 1919
Wendy was the first out of the train. She stretched her back—first backward, then forwards—and finished up with a few rotations of the shoulders and neck. She sighed in contentment, feeling relief for reaching Resembool in one piece. Wendy stepped off the train car and made her way across the platform.
"Wait up, Wendy," Roy called from the car. Wendy turned around and waited for Roy to catch up with her.
"You're supposed to be taking things slow, remember?" Roy said with feigned reproach. Wendy grinned.
"I feel great, my dear Brigadier General," she purred as it was customary of her. Not long after, she began flexing her muscles like a bodybuilder. "And it's all thanks to the art that is passed down the Armstrong family for generations!" she added in a booming voice.
Roy stared at her, dumbfounded, then broke down into a laughing fit. "That was a horrible imitation, Wendy. Please tell me you're going to stick with your day job," he said after calming down.
Wendy's eyebrows shot up in mock insult. "Poppycock!"
"What?" Roy uttered as if she'd been talking Chinese to him and not English, or in this case, Amestrian.
"Just...don't worry about it," she said in her normal voice. Roy was making a face, which she thought it amusing.
She was in the working of a witty comeback but the moment was ruined by a groaning Russell. Wendy looked past Roy and saw the blond glaring at her from the train car.
Russell quickly dismissed her by looking somewhere behind her. "I'm going to get us a cab," he grumbled as he walked past them. Wendy's eyes followed Russell until he was out of sight.
"I'm so sorry," Fletcher said as he flew past them, no doubt trying to catch up to his older brother. Wendy stared at the younger brother's back until he too disappeared from sight.
"I'm going to give that little prick an earful when we arrive at Rockbell Automail," Roy mentioned, his lone eye narrowing as he stared at the station entrance.
Wendy looked away for a second. Out of everyone she'd met in Amestris, Russell Tringham was the only one who'd shown downright hostility toward her. At least his younger brother seemed to be more open to getting to know her if only a little.
"Let him be," Wendy said as she returned her attention to Roy. She didn't mind the young man taking his frustrations out on her because she probably would've been doing the same thing if the tables were turned. Fear is a powerful motivator, and that fact would never change, no matter the country or world a person was in.
Russell finding out that she was Edward's wife made him realize how fragile his relationship with Winry truly was. He didn't have to say out loud how terrified he was about being replaced, she knew the symptoms all too well.
"Hey, are you okay?" Roy said, interrupting Wendy's thoughts. Wendy nodded. "I'm fine," she said and added "really" when Roy arched his eyebrows in disbelief.
"The taxi cab is waiting!" Russell shouted from the station entrance.
Wendy turned around only to see Russell's back to them already.
"Shall we?" Roy said as he offered her his arm, which Wendy gladly took without hesitation.
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Rockbell Automail
Wendy kept to herself after getting inside the taxi cab.
Thinking about Russell's plight only helped to remind her of her own. While she was in a better position than she was a year ago, she still felt the insidious effects of heartbreak from time to time.
She'd loved Edward since the first time she laid eyes on his aloof figure. She never could exactly explain the reason for such intense attraction, all she knew was that she needed this man in her life. And she thought Edward felt the same way, even though he seemed hesitant at first. Eventually, Edward opened up to her. Edward did love her, but what he loved about her was who she resembled. And now she was heading to the house of his one true love.
Wendy looked up and watched Russell's face reflected on the rearview mirror. He was currently lost in the moving scenery. Despite the distraction, Wendy could see discontent in his hardened expression. Russell was angry: at life, at her, at Edward. She was painfully aware that Russell was only going to continue lashing out at her, and she wasn't doing to a thing to prevent it, because she pitied him. Wendy was sure she was projecting, but she didn't care.
Russell turned his gaze to the mirror. He gave her an icy glare before returning his attention back to the emerald landscape.
A wry smile crossed Wendy's features. Like Roy had said many times before: Russell was a brat. Despite this, she wished him well.
Russell was young and he was handsome. He was an accomplished alchemist with an official State title; quite a catch for any well-bred girl. And unlike her, Russell had a clean slate.
Russell should consider himself lucky. He wasn't going to end up lamenting the loss of the best years of his life nor would he have to end up consoling grief-stricken children. Russell Tringham had a bright future ahead, even if it was without Winry.
Of course, there was the possibility of a happily ever after for the young man though Wendy knew it in her heart that this outcome was highly unlikely—because Winry Rockbell might have more things in common with her than she would ever want to admit.
Wendy was genuinely surprised when the taxi cab came to a stop. She'd been so immersed in her thoughts that she missed everything that was going on around her.
Wendy looked from the window at the yellow house she often heard in Edward's and Alphonse's stories. She took a deep, calming breath before opening the door.
Once she got out of the car, her silver eyes went to the wooden sign sticking out of the ground. "Rockbell Automail," she mumbled, the name sounding wrong as it rolled off her tongue. She walked up to it, partly because she wanted to see the sign up close, but mostly because she didn't want anyone—especially Roy—to see her face at that moment.
"How are you feeling?" Roy asked when he caught up to her.
Wendy kept her eyes fixed on the sign. "That's the second time you asked me the same thing," she spat and immediately regretted her answer. Roy knew all too well how hard it was for her to be standing in front of the house of the one person who unwittingly destroyed a marriage of sixteen years. Roy was only worried about her, and he was trying to make things more bearable, but these types of things would never be easy under any circumstance.
"My apologies, Wendy," Roy finally said, "I wasn't aware that your temper was running...short."
That kind of witty comment had the pull to make Wendy forget her worries, if only for a moment. Smiling, she turned to Roy, and said, "Oh, it's much worse than that, kind sir, for you see, it is quite...minuscule."
Roy was suppressing a laugh for sake of upholding his role as a Commanding Officer, but she knew he loved the silly response. Just thinking about the effort it took Roy to keep a straight face in front of the Tringham brothers made her laugh, and for that she was grateful.
If someone ever told her that she would be making fun of Edward's height complex with his ex-Commanding Officer, she wouldn't have believed it.
"That look suits you better," Roy said, snapping Wendy out of her reverie.
Wendy gazed at him for a long moment. She wouldn't have known how to navigate this strange world if it hadn't been for him.
She'd been terrified ever since she waked up from her coma. At first, she thought she was hallucinating—a side effect from teleportation—but when the sunset down and came back up the next day, she knew something had gone horribly wrong.
She recognized people from Edward's and Alphonse's numerous stories about Amestris, but in her mind, the possibility of these people being real was as probable as any of Lewis Caroll's(4) creations springing to life. Yet these characters, these Amestrians, persisted.
She tried her hand with Alex and described vignettes of his life. It was the only way she could prove to herself that these people were real and not figments of her imagination. Alex took the bait: hook, line, and sinker. She faked a headache to escape a slew of questions the burly man no doubt had lined up for her.
The time alone offered Wendy a chance to think: to finally accept that she crossed over to Amestris and that she hadn't lost her mind during the teleportation process. It also provided her the opportunity to devise an escape plan.
Survival was the name of the game, and if she wanted to gain the advantage, she needed to start putting her plan into motion.
Both Edward and Alphonse often spoke about Roy Mustang. Each had a different opinion of the man, which ranged from "a bastard with a God complex" to "an exemplary human being". Both brothers often disagreed on what Mustang was, but they did agree on something, and that something was that Roy Mustang was a Ladies Man. Vested with this knowledge, she manipulated Alex's emotions to gain access to the man himself.
She thought Roy was going to be easy prey like Alex had been. So she played the vixen card only to come up losing. Having kids herself, she should've known better than to follow the opinion of who at the time had been two impressionable teenagers dealing with a self-assured adult.
Spending time with Roy Mustang, she'd come to realize he wasn't a Ladies Man nor he was a man of questionable morals. Roy Mustang was a kind man who had been a victim of power plays. Interestingly enough, she had this in common with him. And his quirky sense of humor was exquisite, she couldn't remember a time when she was able to joke the way she did around Roy. But it's his attention to detail what she liked the most. Perhaps there was a grain of truth about Roy Mustang being a Ladies Man, any woman would feel special if they were treated like a queen. For all she knew, Roy might be giving her preferential treatment simply because he pitied her; maybe he felt responsible for Edward's actions. Regardless, she was grateful for the undivided attention. From listening to her sad stories to helping her through physical therapy; she would always be grateful to have had this man come into her life.
Russell walked behind them, huffing in annoyance as he headed up the porch stairs and to the front door. Fletcher followed his older brother, carrying a piece of luggage in each hand. Russell opened the door and went inside, with Fletcher walking closely behind.
Wendy pursed her lips as she stared at the open door. She'd been told that she spent time in this house before being moved to Central. Technically, this would be the first time for her to be visiting the place while being conscious, but this wasn't accurate at all. She knew this house—inside and out—as if it was her own.
The yellow house had a small living room and kitchen. Upstairs were three bedrooms and one bathroom, which had a leaky faucet. The basement was the actual automail workshop, which included two rooms dedicated to automail maintenances. No rooms were reserved for post-operation patients. All surgeries were performed in the local hospital, with Edward's surgery being the one and only exception.
Wendy wasn't all too concerned about the house itself, what made her knees turn to jelly, hung in the foyer, to the right of the front door. Edward and Alphonse often talked about Auntie Pinako's Hall of Memories: a large bulletin board with family pictures pinned on it.
Wendy began to feel queasy, but she quickly got a hold of herself. She needed to be strong in order to return home, and Rockbell Automail happened to be one of the places that stood before her ultimate goal.
"You don't have to do this alone," Roy said as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Wendy turned her attention to Roy and offered him a weak smile. But his sympathetic gaze was like a balm to her weary soul, so she took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," she managed to say despite the lump in her throat.
Roy nodded once before leading Wendy inside the house.
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Wendy gasped shakily the moment she laid eyes on the infamous bulletin board. She reigned her emotions as best as she could and started looking at the pictures as objectively as possible.
Her gaze stopped on a picture of a young Winry hugging Edward and Alphonse. They were so little and so adorable that made Wendy feel a strange tightening in her chest. She raised her hand to it just as a soft sob escaped her.
She moved past that picture. Her hand hovered over other pictures, stopping in front of one that depicted a teenage Edward standing beside a tall suit of armor. Wendy gasped as her eyes widened in recognition. She turned to Roy. "That is Alphonse!" she mentioned as if Roy wasn't aware of the fact.
Wendy returned her attention to the picture. "It really happened," she mumbled in disbelief. She always thought Edward and Alphonse made up those fantastic tales to cover up a shady past. Her vision blurred with tears. "They really went through hell," she whispered as those tears ran down her face.
"They sure did," Roy said in a somber tone.
Wendy turned around and threw her arms over his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. Roy encircled Wendy in his arms and let her cry until there were no more tears to spill.
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Amestris, Continental Calendar, August 21, 1919 — Late Afternoon
Wendy gasped in astonishment as she contemplated the transmutation circle for the first time. She couldn't help it, the array looked quite surreal being etched into the emerald field. She decided to take a quick glance at her surroundings. Resembool was a quaint place indeed, the kind of place that was postcard-worthy with vast grassy fields patterned with crops, and sprinkled with rustic-looking houses; and of course, herding animals gave the finishing touches.
Resembool was a damn good replica of the Heartland if she said so herself.
Having her fill of the pastoral scenery, Wendy returned her attention to the transmutation circle. She whistled to herself realizing the array itself would make a great addition to a plein air painting.
Russell scoffed from somewhere behind her. Wendy turned just in time to see Fletcher elbowing him. Roy was standing near the brothers though at the moment he was keeping to himself. He might not be saying anything but he was keenly studying her every move, something he'd started to do ever since they left for ground zero.
"What do you make of it?" Roy asked shortly after.
Wendy didn't answer right away. She glanced back at the array and stared at it for a few long minutes as if the mere act of staring would help unravel fantastic secrets. Finally, she returned her attention back to Roy, and said, "Well, it looks like aliens got bored and decided to scribble something onto the field(5)."
Roy shook his head upon hearing the silly response. Russell didn't find the commentary funny at all.
"It's a joke, Russell, lighten up," Wendy said to him as to lessen the tension between them only to receive a menacing glare in response.
"Behave, Major," Roy warned.
Russell turned his glare at his Commanding Officer but realized his mistake and quickly looked away. He crossed his arms over his chest and scoffed in frustration.
"To be honest, I'm completely gobsmacked by the appearance of a transmutation circle," Wendy offered, taking things more seriously. She didn't get far though seeing that Russell was hellbent on confronting her.
"Wow, that's helpful," he sneered, his words dripping sarcasm.
This time, it was Fletcher who took it upon himself to stop the belligerent blond. "Brother—!" he tried to admonish but Russell wasn't having any of it.
"This woman is wasting our time!" Russell countered petulantly. "She knows nothing!" he added, pointing an accusing finger at her. "She's a fucking joke—!"
"Tringham!" Roy roared, finally putting a stop to Russell's tirade. Russell bared his teeth at Roy in defiance and that was all it took for Roy to explode.
"You're dismissed, Major. Pack up your things; you're going to return to Central, stat!" Roy's voice came out in a snarl, angry beyond belief.
Russell's fists shook at his sides, his jaw clenched in frustration at the unfairness of the situation. He spat on the ground before storming away.
"Brigadier General, please reconsider!" Fletcher cried trying to turn things around.
Roy glared at the young man. "Do you want to leave too?" he hissed, clearly not in the mood to be questioned.
Fletcher cast his eyes down. "No, sir."
"Good!" Roy crossed his arms over his chest. A moment later, he added, "You're going to be performing your brother's duties along with your own."
Fletcher scowled at that. "Yes, sir," he said in a measured tone, but Wendy could tell he wasn't all too pleased with his superior's orders.
Wendy felt a stab of guilt even though Russell had it coming. She pushed the unsavory moment out of her mind and concentrated on the task at hand.
Wendy paced around the perimeter of the transmutation circle while thinking about every conceivable scenario as to why this phenomenon had happened in the first place. Finally, something made sense in her mind. She came to a stop then turned to the men, and said, "I have a theory regarding the transmutation circle."
Roy and Fletcher had been doing their own thing after the skirmish. They both perked up when Wendy spoke, and waited for her to continue.
Wendy nodded in acknowledgment. She returned her gaze to the array—gave it a once over—just in case she missed something. She didn't, so she turned back to Roy and Fletcher, prepared to tell them what was going to be one heck of a story.
"Albert Einstein published the Theory of Relativity in 1915," she said as an opening statement. This was going to be a long discourse, so she treated it as such.
Wendy gave both Roy and Fletcher enough time to wrap their heads around what she was about to disclose.
"This Einstein fella predicted that the space-time around Earth would be not only warped but also twisted by the planet's rotation. This became known as the Theory of General Relativity(6). Einstein's theory was a huge breakthrough in science because it gave us a new perspective on how planetary mechanics work."
Wendy paused to catch her breath. She was vibrating with excitement since she seldom had the opportunity to share intellectual topics with people outside the science circle.
"As outstanding as Einstein's theory was, it was still that, a theory: unproven and kind of useless," she said as she paced back and forth, like a professor giving a class on Physics. In a way, she was. And as any professor would do, she raised her finger when about to bring up an important point. "But then came Karl Schwarzschild," she said, smiling. "Schwarzschild devised a solution(7) for Einstein's Theory of General Relativity. Mind you, his solution was only applicable to the simple case of a perfectly spherical object embedded in otherwise empty space." Wendy then raised her hand over her head and then dropped it. "Gravity plays an important role in the Theory of Relativity," she said to explain her actions. "Armed with this knowledge, Schwarzschild proposed that any matter that got trapped in dense gravity would spiral helplessly to its doom in the infinitely dense singularity. This phenomenon was called a black hole."
Wendy stopped for a moment to observe the array, imagining the circle as a black hole itself. She looked back at Roy and Fletcher who seemed stunned into silence. She grinned at them playfully before continuing where she left off.
"Edward reached the same conclusion as Schwarzschild during those first years he lived on Earth, but he chose to keep it a secret. While he saw potential in the concept of space and time, he ultimately decided to bet on Alfons Heiderich's project, which revolved around rocket ships."
The name Alphons sure sparked interest in both Roy and Fletcher, so Wendy decided to reveal who this young man had been. "Alphons Heiderich was your Alphonse's double." The revelation had both Roy and Fletcher gaping at her in disbelief.
There was a brief moment of silence between all present. Finally, Roy decided to break it.
"You mentioned 'was' Alphonse's double," he said, carefully broaching the subject.
Wendy nodded with reverence. "I didn't have the pleasure of meeting him. He—" Wendy fell silent as she recalled the day when Edward first spoke of his younger brother's double. Alphons Heidreich has been an important person in Edward's life. He was the one who kept Edward sane in a foreign world. Alphons' death has affected Edward in indescribable ways, even to this day and age." Wendy shook her head. "He died around the events of the Amestrian Invasion," she finally said. "There was a fight on our side too, on a smaller scale, as I've been told." Wendy fell silent, unable to keep out of her mind the dark societies' insidious influence on the world. "Alphons Heiderich died from a gunshot wound to the chest," she added in afterthought.
Neither man said anything, but Wendy could tell that hearing about Alphons' violent death affected them. The story of the "other Alphonse" affected her too, because of who this young man represented in the Elric's lives. Wendy sighed, deciding to put that sad memory behind.
"Edward discovered something new after settling on Earth for good," she continued. "The idea of black holes was being explored in detail, and a white hole was discovered a few years after Schwarzschild's work was published. A white hole works opposite of a black hole(8). Only as recent as 1935, the possibility of these two polar opposites converging was explored(9)." Wendy put both hands in front of her. "In other words, if a black hole acts as an entrance while a white hole acts as an exit, a tunnel would be formed." Wendy brought her hands together, demonstrating what she just said. She then stared at both Roy and Fletcher. A proud smirk crossed her face. It was the telling sign that the moment of climax in her story was about to unfold. "I say 1935 was the year that this phenomenon was made public but in reality, Edward reached this conclusion himself in 1924—yes, gentlemen—eleven years ahead of time." But whatever excitement Wendy was feeling at the moment was lost the moment her expression turned distant.
"Edward told me about this theory of his when we studied at the university," she said wistfully. Wendy looked up, and added, "Edward was convinced that a person could travel vast distances by utilizing these types of black hole-white hole tunnels. He was so sure of this that he even joked about going home for the Holidays..." Wendy fell silent again.
"So, Ed was planning on returning home?" Roy said, simplifying Wendy's explanation.
Wendy gave him a wry smile. "Yes, I believe that was what he intended to do once he got all details ironed out, but—" Wendy looked way. "It wasn't meant to be, so he turned his back on the project for good." Wendy chuckled at the irony of it.
"What about the array?" Fletcher asked, still not understanding what black holes and white holes had to do with the transmutation circle that spirited Winry away to Earth.
Wendy met his gaze. "Right, I need to apply the theory," she mumbled, offering a sad smile. "This array contains a star tetrahedron," she said, turning her full attention onto the transmutation circle. "It is believed in many cultures that this type of sacred geometry represents the soul."
Roy perked up at the mention of soul. "The Xinguese mentions the same thing," he said in admiration.
"That is interesting," Wendy mentioned, pleasantly surprised with the fact. "If that's the case then I'll skip some details." She entered the array and knelt next to the innermost design. "See how the top triangle points opposite to the lower triangle?" she said as she traced the tetrahedron's shape in the air. "As a three-dimensional form, half of the configuration rotates clock-wise while the other rotates counter-clockwise, creating energy as their rotations complement each other."
"Black hole and white hole connecting and making a tunnel," Fletcher said in awe.
Wendy nodded. "You got it."
"You already know that the alchemical runes in the array depict the body and the mind, so the tetrahedron is the alchemical representation for the soul. It's also the point of convergence," she added.
"Are you suggesting that this is a signature of sorts?" Roy said as his good eye widened in realization.
Wendy nodded again. "It is." She glanced at the array, and added, "It's Winry's alchemical profile or signature, as you said. And it's also my signature, as I'm Winry's counterpart."
"But this still doesn't explain why there's a transmutation circle," Fletcher said, shaking his head.
"I'm about to get there," Wendy smiled. She stood up and walked out of the circle. "I strongly believe that this transmutation circle came to be simply because alchemy is the primary force that powers your world." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Edward and Alphonse both mentioned that this world followed the path of alchemy while my world followed the path of technology. Simply put, I built a machine that managed to create what a transmutation circle would've accomplished if I've been on this side of the world, to begin with."
"But it wasn't linear," Roy pointed out.
Wendy frowned. "I know." She narrowed her eyes at the array. "The Mystery Schools mention that time is nonlinear, perhaps this is why we time-traveled."
"Mystery schools?" Roy asked but Wendy stopped him with a shake of the head.
"I had enough of mind-boggling topics for one day. Let's leave this one for another day?"
"Can it be reversed?" Fletcher asked. Wendy could sense his concern, which was, in a way, Russell's concern.
"I believe so," she answered, and smiled when she saw hope lighting Fletcher's face.
"Ideally I would have a team assemble an exact replica of my laboratory at The Annex, but I don't think this world even has the technology needed to achieve convergence." She stopped when an idea popped into her mind. Finally, she said, "But I can use alchemy to compensate for the missing parts."
"You will use alchemy?" Roy asked, perplexed by the suggestion.
"Of course!" Wendy grinned. "It is, after all, this world's primal force. Besides, I'm an alchemist myself, but only in theory, which means that I'll be able to provide you guys with useful insight."
Roy and Fletcher looked at each other, then at Wendy. "Okay," Roy said, still dumbstruck by all he'd heard in one afternoon. "We will help you devise a plan to make this hybrid machine of yours work."
"Thank you," Wendy replied with a big smile. She then turned her full attention to Fletcher, and said, "Winry will come home. I'll do everything in my power to make it happen."
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A/N 2: To answer lilaclily00's comment. The first arc of this story is kind of gloomy/angsty, but things will not stay this way for the entire story. I have some goodies in store for you guys. The second arc, which starts with chapter 14, will have new content. Also, I'm taking the whole 'depressed' look and feel from Conqueror on Shamballa, this is why Earth seems so depressing. Imagine being stuck in a place for the rest of your life, won't you feel depressed? Actually, some people can surpass negativity, but not Ed. The 2003 Ed had always been broken and this attitude won't change easily. Maybe Winry can help?
Rookblonkorules, grief is the core of this story. I plan on exploring this sentiment in every aspect. Really, the study of grief is what propelled me to write this story, that and my fascination with the occult (which includes quantum physics) and overall science fiction. (And yes, you can find info on anything I reference here).
I hope you guys stay long enough to read it all unfolds…
A/N 3: ...which brings me to the second point. I've been quite busy this past year. Work took center stage to the point that I worked myself into exhaustion. Anyway, I've been working on this chapter since the last post, which was more than six months ago. I expect to have more free time after this July and that means I'll have time to work on the last few chapters left of rewrite before I dive into new content.
Visit my Tumblr page: hirstories dot tumblr dot com for story-related artwork and other stories.
Thank you for reading!
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References:
(1) It is an actual reference to the New York Times from that date. It can be found in the New York Times archives.
(2) I wanted to describe a Cohiba Cuban cigar but the company wasn't established until the 1960s. Partagas is an old Cuban cigar company of world-renowned fame. I've never tried a Partagas but smoking cigars is a unique experience and it can kick you in the ass if you don't know what you're doing.
(3) The Willard is a famous hotel in Washington, D.C.
(4) Lewis Carroll is the author of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
(5) You know, as in crop circles? While alien and UFO lore didn't take off until the second Word War (think of foo fighters) there had been accounts of unexplained phenomena happening around the world. Wendy, thanks to working on what would be considered fringe science, would openly accept the existence of this otherworldly phenomena. Also, in the 2003 anime, Scieska mentions aliens to Winry :)
(6) Direct quote taken from the article named Einstein's Theory of General Relativity posted in Space (space dot com).
(7) Karl Schwarzschild proved Einstein's Theory of Relativity and the existence of black holes. The quote comes from an article posted on Space (space dot com).
(8) Ludwig Flamm provided a solution to black holes in 1916. A white hole is a reversal of a black hole, a complete opposite under the law of physics. Google his name and you will find the info regarding white holes.
(9) A reference to the Einstein-Rosen bridge that was published in 1935. Again, google the term and you will find detailed info regarding this bridge—better known as "wormholes".