November 20th, 1908, 94th Brigade Headquarters, Gunja Outskirts, Amestris – Fessler POV

Brigadier General Fessler – commander of the 94th Brigade – was one of many officers charged with the honor of subjugating savage Ishval.

The land had been a perpetual thorn in the side of Amestris ever since it was first annexed. At the time, Amestris was a burgeoning Monarchy with an aristocratic faction that thought the subjugation of the region would bring stability and wealth. After all, it would remove a potential enemy and result in the entire Eastern Area bordering nothing but desert.

They were wrong.

Since the barbarian lands first joined with the civilized world, they have spread nothing but religious unrest and tribalism. What’s more, their lands were barren wastes with little of value. As a result, they were a perpetual drain on the social and economic fabric of Amestris. It was never about if their “nation” would need to be destroyed, but when.

Unlike the newcomer State Alchemists, Fessler had been in the region since the war started over 7 years ago. He had volunteered, his Brigade acting as the fast-response unit of the 12th Infantry Division assigned to the region to investigate the various rumors of rebellious attitudes in the population. Once found, they had full authority to crush them before they could spread like the infection they were. It was a responsibility given to him by the Fürer himself.

‘Of course, if it happened that some rumor or piece of evidence turned out to be false after the fact, well… that would be a shame. All those Ishvalans killed for “nothing”.’

His family had a long history with Ishval ever since their mountains had been found to have salt and gemstones some on hundred years after they were annexed. The Fesslers had made a name for themselves as premier beer producers, but once the aristocracies were cast out with industrialization, his family moved onto the next great Amestrian business: exploiting their recent conquests for all their worth. While Ishval had little in the way of natural resources, the people of the land had refused to exploit their few commodities for “religious reasons”.

‘Of course, my family ignored their zealot stupidity and made ourselves rich off what little wealth their land had. Not that the savages made it easy. They attacked us for “disturbing the earth” or whatever religious nonsense they believed and killed many of my great-aunts and uncles. It’s been over one hundred years since the last of those resources were exploited, but finally my family will have their justice. It’s only right that a Fessler will eradicate these native cave-dwellers once and for all.’

Like the past, the Ishvalan Rebels did not make the task simple. Initially, they subverted many Amestrians to their cause and undermined his eradication efforts with talks of “compromise” and “peace”. Thankfully, the military never yielded and the public slowly got back on the side of righteousness once they saw the horrible cost of their ignorant pacifism. Tragically, the lackluster initial support had meant numerous setbacks in supplies and manpower and so the war stretched on for years. Even now he struggled to maintain his reputation despite having done nothing wrong.

‘That those elitist fools in Central would accuse me of incompetence is rich. If it wasn’t for the lack of manpower and supplies provided by them, I could have ended this war by now! Thankfully, the Fürer has finally made right on my numerous requests… or so I thought.’

He watched as this unit – the 203rd Battalion – made its way through the camp and towards his headquarters for inspection. On paper, it seemed like he would finally have all he needed to end the war. In practice it was anything but. The Battalion was actually little more than a Company in size and was lead by a literal child. Their fresh blue uniforms and white overcoats were pristine when matched against the dirty and ragged appearance of his own hardened forces. He could not help but compare this “Battalion” to the first appearance of the other State Alchemists in his unit.

‘If I didn’t see it before my eyes, I wouldn’t believe it. That a group of individuals touted as “exceptional” could be so pathetic… Save for Kimblee, the State Alchemists were all grossly incompetent and I should have had them all shot. Now a child is being hailed as the “Savior of the West”? No, this was a personal request by the Fürer himself and the 203rd is still nominally under his command. I wouldn’t dare question it… no matter how idiotic it all sounds.’

100 soldiers stood in ten perfect rows. The two remaining soldiers – their tiny commander and her female adjutant – matched towards him. They looked their age: children with no business anywhere near a frontline. Their soft faces and slender frames looked ready to flee at the first sign of action.

The two stopped a few steps away. The 1st Lieutenant and the Lieutenant Colonel saluted with the latter walking two steps forwards and shouting her words.

“The 203rd has arrived! As ordered by our Fürer, I stand ready with your Brigade to relieve-in-place!”

He was surprised she even knew the proper procedure. He responded the response to the ritualistic greeting, if only so he did not look ignorant of proper procedure before his men.

“The Brigade accepts the order and relief.”

He saluted back and shook her hand with a thinly veiled look of disgust.

“So you are the… legendary Colonel Degurechaff. It is a… privilege to have you under my command.”

She nodded with a smile on her pudgy face. She seemed ignorant of his true feelings on the matter.

“I am honored that you have heard of me, Brigadier General Fessler. I have also heard of your strategic success in shifting the front lines of this conflict up to the town’s limits. It seems that this Civil War might soon be at an end.”

General Fessler frowned in an exaggerated way, but inside he was ecstatic. He relished at putting any of these State Alchemists in their place and jumped at the opportunity the girl’s words just gave him.

“For having more respect than some of the men under my command, I will forgive your mistake this time. Please refer to this conflict as a Rebellion. I know that there has been a lot of misinformation about this conflict in Amestris thanks to the wise decision of the top brass in keeping the full scope of it out of the press. That ignorance allows us on the front lines to do our job properly, but I do not want it to cause unnecessary… confusion. I will need have you to be more precise in your language. Calling this a Civil War legitimizes the traitors who are bearing their unreasonable hatred and violence against the legitimate Amestrian State and its people.”

The look of shock on the child’s face was satisfying. She was quick to correct herself.

“Ah, I meant no offense! I will try to be more mindful in the future.”

He nodded dismissively but did not believe her. He had heard similar answers from many State Alchemists and officers beneath him. Then look at the results: cowards like Strongarm and weaklings like Flame espousing his pacifistic drivel.

‘These glorified civilians should be grateful at the chance to participate. They were given an undeserved rank and sent to the front lines to aid in the preservation of our way of life, yet they squander every opportunity they’ve been given!’

He looked down on the girl in annoyance.

“Of course, I am only… too glad to help. Now, I know that my superior – Lieutenant General Halcrow in charge of our 12th Division – has a plan for your unit, but he’s still making preparations. In the meantime, I hope you are ready to get down to business?”

She eagerly nodded. He noted that while she seemed ignorant of the realities of war, she at least had the correct attitude and did not waste his time with needless arguments.

‘Maybe I can mold her into a proper soldier. They say that children are the best learners…’

They moved into the mud-and-stone Ishvalan hovel that served as his headquarters and he offered her a seat. She sat down and he had his Adjutant roll out a map and place various pieces indicating the approximate positions of their own soldiers and the rebels. While he normally did not care for the ignorance of his subordinates, he would need to put in some work in educating her before General Halcrow took control. He did not want his superior to think he was somehow responsible for this Mythril Alchemist’s ignorance.

“Here is an overview of the situation on the front.”

Ishval Battleplan [https://i.imgur.com/tHVvX2g.png]

“As you can see, we have an overwhelming advantage in all fronts. The question that has always been asked then is ‘why have we not won?’ It is easy to point to the terrain the stretches our logistics very thin but the rebel roaches always find some way to scrounge together enough food and bullets to be an annoyance. That is where the real difference lies: morale. Our soldiers are too used to temperate surroundings and fine food cannot stomach this barren land.”

The girl frowned.

“Are you sure? The only reason there are not more troops on the front lines is precisely those logistical issues. If we could solve those, we might even solve the morale issue.”

He ground his teeth.

‘I already see this Alchemist will be like all the rest. A robot droning on about “logistics” this and “equipment” that. No sense of the true motivators of war. I hope she at least sticks around long enough to see the war to its end unlike that pathetic coward Armstrong.’

“Oh trust me, you will see all of this for yourself and more. Regardless, it is not our job to solve things like logistics. Thankfully, I have devised a number of incentives that have allowed my unit to excel, but I won’t get into that now. As a fresh unit to the front line, your unit won’t face those problems for at least a few weeks.”

The Mythril Alchemist looked like she wanted to say something but thought better of it.

“Understood, I will defer to your expertise in this matter. What would you like me to do?”

‘Oh she will defer to me, will she? She’s just like the rest of those “elite” bastards from Central. Sometimes even my own subordinates talk about me behind my back! They all think they’re better than me. Well, I achieved better progress than any of them! While they held back, I pushed ahead! I took over half of Ishval all on my own!’

He smirked.

‘We’ll see if I cannot make her more like the Crimson Alchemist. A few months on the front lines and she will face setback after setback just like the rest. After she struggles and fails… maybe I will help her. She’ll either fix that attitude, or this war will break her.’

He gave her a fierce grin.

“I have just the task.”

---

November 21st, 1908, 94th Brigade Forward Operating Base, Gunja, Amestris – Roy POV

Major Roy Mustang – the Flame Alchemist – sat on a crate overlooking the shattered remnants of an Ishvalan neighborhood. With little else to do between offensives, he would often spend time looking at the broken remains of the buildings and try to guess what they used to be. It helped him focus on more analytical pursuits beyond the mental formulation and transmutation of human lives into ash.

He looked at the open space and could imagine a town square. Off to the right was house. Above its door hung a broken sign with the symbol of a bale of wheat. He could only conclude it must have been a bakery of some sort. A burned-out shed nearby was probably where they kept wood to heat their stoves. Past the pile of bodies he created a pyre for was a temple of some sort. Certainly dedicated to Ishvala and was probably once a holy site that would bring the whole area to worship. Now it was shuttered, with pews and rugs stuffed into the windows. The former occupants had done it in a desperate attempt to prevent bullets and grenades from going in as the defenders had desperately returned fire to buy time… for what? Roy would never know. Being the largest and sturdiest building, the last rebels had held out there for as long as possible for something.

Whatever salvation they hoped for never came. By that point the Ishvalans were half-dead from hunger and most were just civilians: unarmed woman and children. They put up little fight when they were dragged out and executed up against the wall by his fellow soldiers. He had a moment of morbid relief that at least these people were not killed with his Alchemy. Instead, he was just tasked with removing the evidence before the corpses could spread disease.

Some of the men even nicknamed him the Walking Crematorium. He was not sure which was worse, the nickname itself, or that the soldiers meant it as a term of endearment.

He shook his head of the depressingly familiar thoughts and searched for Captain Maes Hughes. Unlike himself – who had joined the war in Ishval the moment Order 3066 was introduced just under a year ago – Maes had joined their Brigade just a few months ago. What’s more, he had volunteered for the transfer. Maes spoke of some “military experiment” being the justification but could not say much else because of it being a Fürer-grade secret. He also mentioned the Mythril Alchemist – or “monstrous child” as the man put it – being the final straw. No matter the reason, his newfound friend was a complete fool… but Roy was one too, so he was in good company.

Finally finding Captain Hughes looking apprehensively at a some type of document, Roy could not help but startle the man with a rough pat on the back.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you this riled up since before we took Kaluk. What’s the issue?”

The event in question was the first time his comrade had seen the widespread slaughter that had become all but routine for Mustang. With the town conquered, and the populace disarmed, there was little holding back the army from getting “vengeance” in the only way it seemed to know how. He saw people he thought were “normal” turned into little more than mindless animals. If Hughes was nervous about anything even remotely comparable to that, it was something he wanted to know.

Maes looked up with a frustrated look on his face.

“I’m not sure what to think about this… here, look.”

The Flame Alchemist received the document and gave the paper a quick glance.

“The 203rd Battalion is being assigned to our 12th Division? Ah, so they must be the ones replacing the 247th. I don’t think I’ve heard anything about these guys… are they from another front, or maybe they’re a new unit? Anyway, this is good news. It would be good for our unit to be back to full strength. What’s the problem?”

Hughes takes off his glasses and rubs at their scratched surface with his uniform. Bringing them back to his face, he shook his head and sighed.

“That’s not it. This is the Battalion that she made.”

Realizing what he was referring to, Mustang could not help but laugh.

“Haha! Oh, your ‘monster child’ that made you transfer into this hellhole?”

Maes sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Laugh it up Roy, but that ‘child’ is a State Alchemist. You should know better than anyone they don’t just hand out that title. Especially since she…”

His friend stopped talking and looked at something behind him.

“What are you looking…?”

He was also stunned speechless. In front of him were rows and rows of a heavily armed company marching in lock-step. Each of the “Shock Troops” had the latest Bergmann MG15 Machine Guns as well as an arsenal of grenades and ammunition. Their uniforms was pristine and each had a silver sphere of some sort hanging from their necks. While none of the men were exactly perfectly proportioned, their physique was a level above the average soldier; that was a tough bar to cross, especially in Ishval. He did not recognize any of the soldiers, but did recognize the officer at the front. He routinely checked the roster and mugshots of new State Alchemists. He could not let a war prevent him from keeping up with the latest in Alchemic research.

‘So that’s the Mythril Alchemist. From what Maes was saying, I half expected her to be ten feet tall and breathe fire. On the other hand, that 203rd Battalion… well, that’s one way to make an entrance.’

“Ok, I take it back, who they hell are those guys? If not for the woman at the front, I’d have thought they were shooting something for the propaganda reels.”

He heard the Captain whisper something under his breath.

“They’re all alchemists. She actually did it.”

He turned to his bespectacled comrade with incredulity.

“What? I know every State Alchemist, Maes. It isn’t hard, there aren’t that many of us and none of them look like that. Well, nobody save for Strongarm and Iron Blood at any rate, but certainly not one hundred.”

The Captain rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“That’s just it Roy; only Major Degurechaff is a State Alchemist. The rest are just Trained, but she got them to your level.”

This shocked and angered Roy, who threw his arms up in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious Maes. Why didn’t you tell me something that important?! This could jeopardize my plans for becoming Fürer!”

Rather than the expected apology, his friend simply raised his eyebrows.

“What do you mean? Maybe the State having a more firepower might make a more pacifistic message harder, but I thought that was the reason for your plans. You couldn’t take on the State directly and so you wanted to take control from within.”

He rubbed his face with his hands. His friend was normally far more observant than that; the war must really be getting to him.

“Damn it. No, of course I couldn’t take over the State by force, but I still need to look exceptional. If the State can just produce more soldiers like me, what chance do I have for promotion? I’m not exactly a tactical genius or great leader; I graduated in the middle of my class at the academy. I can get a few like-minded soldiers on my side and loyal, sure, but my most potent asset has always been my Alchemy.”

It seemed that he realized his mistake, but Roy had no time for niceties. Instead, he turned around and marched straight in the direction the soldiers were heading.

Maes raced after him and came up alongside the Alchemist with a flushed look on his face.

“Hey Roy! Look, I’m sorry, but where are you going?”

Roy just rolled his eyes at that.

“Don’t read into it Maes; I’m not that angry. I’m going to meet with the Mythril Alchemist. I’ll talk with these ‘monsters’ and come to my own conclusions.”

‘And if she needs to go to secure my own future, well, so be it. Better to do it sooner rather than later. A dead officer has become a common occurrence on this battlefield…’

The two officers made their way to the far end of the FOB where the 203rd were busy setting up their tents, storing their unit’s resources and preparing their canteen. While this was normally the time where an officer would give to grant their unit a little R&R after a long march, it seemed this unit was an exception. Rather than tired, they seemed strangely motivated to do the mundane chores, laughing and chatting with one another while they dug latrines or stacked crates. It was a surreal site that had Roy wondering if maybe Hughes’ idea of “monstrous” might not have been that far off.

They made their way to the center where a larger command tent had already been assembled. Roy was shocked.

‘It’s only been 15 minutes. When did they have the time to get this ready?’

Shaking his head, he made his way to the female secretary sitting in front of the entrance. The younger woman was doing some paperwork using a clipboard on a small stool. From his interactions with Riza, he was no stranger to female soldiers and had changed a few incorrect assumptions he had acquired growing up in a hostess bar. But while Riza was the strongest woman he knew and could probably break him in half now, even she did not look as strong as this 1st Lieutenant. She looked up and both Maes and himself flinched.

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‘She’s going for her weapon! If I don’t use my alchemy now I’ll-’

Then it was gone, and all he could see was a strong – but otherwise ordinary – woman. She had not moved a muscle beyond tilting her head up, but it was like she had him at gunpoint.

‘Just what the hell was-’

“Hello? Do you need anything?”

He had to keep himself from jumping at the 1st Lieutenant’s voice. Using a fake cough to calm himself down, he nodded his head.

“Ahem… yes. 1st Lieutenant, can I speak with you a moment?”

She nods and puts down her clipboard. Saluting, she introduces herself.

“Lieutenant Serebryakova, sir! What can I help you with Major?”

Roy could not help but chuckle condescendingly to himself. This was probably the first time in over 2 months that anyone had treated him as an actual officer. Before the war, he had actually thought the “Honorary Major” title was worth something, but apart from the pay, it was little more than a gimmick. Even Hughes – despite being a rank below him – was usually treated better.

He gave the other officer a wry smile.

“Ah, well I am a State Alchemist. I’m not exactly a real Major.”

Rather than the embarrassment or condescension he was expecting, Lieutenant Serebryakova just seemed confused.

“I don’t understand, but whatever you mean, I would never consider you less because you’re a State Alchemist. My own commander is one and she quite literally made me into the soldier I am today.”

He scratched the back of his head nervously. That was the last reaction he was expecting.

“Ah, right. Well, would it be possible to meet with her? You see, Captain Hughes here had met with the Major before and so we wanted to meet with her again.”

Maes grabbed him by the shoulder and whispered in his ear.

“Damn it Roy! I do not want to meet her again!”

Ignorant of his friend’s plea, the Lieutenant smiled.

“Ah! You must have met her before her promotion. She is a Lieutenant Colonel now.”

Roy was stunned. It might only seem like a single rank, but going from a State Alchemist to a Lieutenant Colonel was far harder than any other. He had been trying for over 2 years – before State Alchemists were even transferred to active combat – and it was probably only going to be surviving the end of the Ishvalan war that would see him gaining that single rank.

‘What the hell did the Mythril Alchemist do to get that?’

He turned to Maes.

“Didn’t you say you met her three months ago?”

Based on how pale Maes was getting behind his glasses, Roy imagined that this was a surprise to him as well.

“I did…”

The Lieutenant gave them a dreamy look which ignored their horrified reactions.

“She’s so great. The 203rd – under her leadership – helped end the conflict in the West! She’s honestly a born-commander; our unit would be nothing without her! Now that we’ve been called in the end the rebellion in Ishval, I am confident that with her planning we can-”

The woman’s exuberance was cut off by the Mythril Alchemist herself exiting the tent. Unlike the rest of her unit, she looked as frail and small as her young age would suggest. The deep black bags and the irritability of her tone suggested that they had disturbed her rest.

“What is all the-”

Looking up at them, her face brightened.

“Ah! Captain Hughes, this really is a small world. It’s good to see you again. I’d half-expected that you’d be manning the border with Creta after the end of hostilities. If I remember correctly, your superior was promoted… ah, right, it’s Brigadier General Raven now, I think. He was given his own Brigade in the 24th Infantry Division so what are you doing here in Ishval?”

The Lieutenant was first to salute her commander and Roy – realizing the child actually outranked him – saluted her along with Maes.

He could see his friend grimace and probably knew what he was thinking.

‘Seriously Maes? If you’d stayed just a few more months you could have been promoted and enjoying some leisurely guard duty right now. Idiot.’

The Lieutenant looked apologetic.

“Sorry for the noise commander, I know you were trying to get some sleep and-”

The Mythril Alchemist chuckled and waved away her Adjutant’s concern.

“No, that’s alright, it’s important to have a rapport with the other officers in our Brigade and we’re still an entire day off from seeing any action.”

Roy looked incredulously between the polite child and his friend.

‘This is the larger-than-life “monster” that Hughes was talking about? A pre-pubescent girl? Well… looks can be deceiving. She is a State Alchemist after all.’

Finally coming to the point of his diversion, he introduced himself.

“Lieutenant Colonel, you are already familiar with Captain Hughes, but I’m Major Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist.”

Her face light up with recognition.

“Yes, I remember you. Your thesis on Thermobaric reactions was very influential in the initial research for the Fürer’s project, but the Silver Alchemist and I ultimately went in the direction of Crimson Alchemist’s research regarding explosions. I don’t mean any offense or comparison – both papers were exceedingly well written – but it was just too difficult to maintain a good fuel-air mix in combat conditions. The volumes involved and the efficiency needed to create an effective explosion at a distance was too difficult with primitive Dynamic Circles.”

The Flame Alchemist had to hide a grimace at the thought of anyone gaining combat insights from that research. He could only blame his younger, more naive self.

‘What an idiot I used to be. I just handed all that research over to the State in order to get my State Certification. Thermobarics, Exothermics, Incendiaries, and even aspects of Flame Alchemy and Fuel Transmutation. All just better means of murdering our own civilians. Being useful to the people? Using flames to protect? What the hell was I thinking? If only I had listened to Master back then…’

It took a moment for Roy to catch what the Lieutenant Colonel had said at the end. He glanced at Hughes who seemed just as surprised as he was.

“Hughes couldn’t talk about anything regarding your Alchemy Research. Is that what it was, Dynamic Circles? I’m not familiar with the concept.”

It was like all the tiredness washed away from her face. She nodded with a big smile.

“That’s right! I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it; it was only declassified recently. With most of the senior officers on the Western Front as well as a dozen-or-so State Alchemists seeing the technology at my Alchemy Certification, it was only a matter of time. I hope for it to be a great new avenue of technological development. There was a report detailing the gist of it in broad strokes sent out last week, although I do not fault that this battle with the Ishvalans has not given you much time to keep up-to-date. As you can imagine, there’s still some things I cannot say, but putting it plainly, the silver object on my chest here allows someone not at the State level to perform certain operations with unparalleled efficiency without the honed Mental Will a State Alchemist has.”

She pointed to the fist-sized sphere.

“Normally I would relish in giving a fellow State Alchemist a demonstration of this thing – I could only imagine the great strides your Alchemy could make in the Civil Energy Sector – but that will have to wait. It seems that the 203rd will be joining you on the subjugation of the Gunja District of Ishvala. In a sense, I suppose we will be providing you the best live-fire demonstration possible.”

While his bespectacled friend did not seem all that happy, he was more than happy to see it in action. There was few things that made him happy – especially in this hellhole – than new advances in alchemy.

“I guess I should look forward to your results. The 12th Division has been suffering heavily causalities making any headway in the region.”

The Mythril Alchemist gave them a smirk, but just like with the Lieutenant, Roy felt something fierce and predatory about it.

“I hope we don’t disappoint.”

---

November 21st, 1908, Ruined Town Center, Gunja, Amestris – Hughes POV

It was happening again. The butcher of the Western Front had come East and was reaping a deadly harvest. What was worse was that she was done with “Tests” and “Experiments”. She had perfected her “Art” and spread its application to her Battalion. Looking at them act, he knew he was right when he first saw her. War as he knew it was over and something far more horrifying had taken its place.

Roy, Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff and himself were sitting in the open on top of one of the few buildings left standing in the region. The thought of how exposed they were had the two Ishvalan Front veterans on edge, but standing behind the Mythril Alchemist, it was clear they were not in any danger.

A shot rang out and they all flinched as the tell-tale crack of a bullet embedded itself in a nearby wall. It was the third such shot in the past minute and Maes could not help but wonder what the sniper was thinking. Would he have acted the same way? Thinking that his shots were missing and not being deflected by this new form of alchemy?

The Mythril Alchemist began to talk on her radio.

“Pixie 2 and 3, the target is confirmed. The sniper is on the upper floors of the suspected building. Flush them out. Pixie 1 will cover the exits in case they get smart. Pixie-Actual to Gnome-Actual, we are operating in the 3-story building of area G1. Do not to fire on it or the suspected sniper. We have it covered.”

A male voice laughed on the radio in response.

[Gnome-Actual acknowledges Pixie-Actual. We’ll sit back and enjoy the fireworks.]

Even from a distance, it was clear what shape the battle was turning out to be. Explosions and gunfire rang out in the distance as the forms of people were blown out of the building or – in one case – hurled out. Down the street, he could see that the Ishvalans were realizing the severity of the situation and were rushing to regain control of the building. In response, 3 soldiers of the battalion held a defensive line at the intersection and shot at anything that moved.

“Scatter!”

“Flank right! Go, go, go!”

“Who are these guys?!”

“Just dump everything you have into them!”

He heard the Ishvalan voices in the distance yelling out their commands. While it might seem foolish, it was better to make your intentions clear to your squad and risk the enemy overhearing your strategy than it was to stay silent and disorganized. If their tactics were sound, then they would be attacking their enemy from all sides in an ambush and so making out which strategy was for which group would be impossible anyway. If the Ishvalans had radios, he might have a different opinion, but the Ishvlans were lucky to have working grenades, yet alone electronics.

Looking a the slaughter playing out before him, he realized the unsettling emotions that had been playing out when he first saw the weapon in action on the Western Front.

‘Looking back, I had a strange concept of “war” back on the Western Front. War is wrong… but both Creta and Amestris were suffering so it felt more “fair”; the war had ballooned beyond anyone’s control and no one was ultimately at fault. Obviously once the war was over, Amestris would do everything in its power to stop another war like that from ever happening again. It was so self-evident that not a single soldier I talked to felt any different.’

The new weapon that threw all those assumptions up in the air. The sight gave Maes an uncomfortable sense of dissonance; he felt relief in the knowledge that the war in the West and now in Ishval would soon be over; he felt horror in knowing that it was only the beginning.

‘I could never understand it: why would you ever fight a war? There’s no economic advantage: the equipment used in taking territory would never be recuperated by the newfound bombed-out ruins that were captured. Likewise, throwing thousands of men into a meatgrinder to gain a few thousand angry, spiteful partisans in return was clearly pointless. But then Mythril started picking off gun-emplacements from a distance with ease and now I can see how addicting war can be. With the Operation Orb, it just seems so… easy. Every soldier with one is a Platoon in themselves and everyone without one is just fodder. I can already imagine how the Brass might be looking at this. “How far can we push this? Can we take over our neighbors? The continent? The world?”’

Just as he finished that thought, so too did the 203rd Battalion’s Pixie Platoon finished “mopping up” the G1 Sector. He knew from personal experience that the 300-man Company under his command would have taken 2 days and one-third causalities doing the same task that just 25 men did in less than an hour. Rather than his reaction the first time, he no longer felt sick from the death; he had seen far worse now. No, now he felt a vague sense of panic. If he did not figure out what the impact of this weapon was soon, he would be left on the sidelines of the new wars brewing on the horizon.

Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff got off the radio after congratulating her subordinates on a job well done and turned to them.

“So, what do you think? I have tweaked the design you had seen before, Captain Hughes, but the results are not appreciably different. Considering the equipment of the rebels, my Battalion is not in much danger.”

Like himself, Roy did not seem disturbed by the sight of the new weapon in action. If anything, the Flame Alchemist looked intrigued.

“I have to admit, I am shocked by how effective a piece of silver could be. When you said ‘Alchemic Enhancer’, I regret that I initially brushed it off as yet another Philosopher’s Stone knock off. To think that it would be so capable… I feel like every soldier – or at least every State Alchemist – should have one. It is not uncommon for us to fall victim to sniper fire. I think I remember the Silver Alchemist himself being taken off the front lines for something similar.”

She nodded with delight. No doubt she thought Roy was simply praising her work. Maes knew his friend better than that. He was fishing for information and hoped that the Mythril Alchemist would let slip some potentially classified knowledge.

The child-like staff officer smiled up at them.

“Ah, I completely agree! What’s more, there are many peacetime applications in construction or factory work that I think would-”

The crack of the sniper once again had the three of them flinching as the bullet impacted the wall behind them. In the next instant, the 3rd story of the last remaining tall building in the area detonated, sending chunks of clay and tile crashing around them.

The Lieutenant Colonel’s radio came to life with a burst of static.

[Sorry about that Lieutenant Colonel. Sucker got one last shot off before we could get to them. Guess they didn’t get the memo that the commander of the 203rd is not taken out so easily.]

Various voices of laughter rang out in response. The commander in question chuckled amiably and shrugged.

“No problem Sergeant Vogt. Every shot on us is a shot not taken on the rest of the Division. Consider each hit a badge of honor.”

She turned to the two of them and shrugged in a “what can you do?” sort of way.

“Speaking of honor, I only just realized that my Battalion must be taking a lot of the glory away from the Brigade. It wouldn’t be right to hold you up any longer from making your own contributions. I’ll get back to my Platoon, but be sure to write if you have anything else you’d like to talk about. This conversation has been beneficial.”

She turned to Roy with a smirk.

“Also, feel free to put in a request with Central regarding an Operation Orb. I have it on good authority that anyone who can use them will be approved eventually. If enough requests come in, my value goes up. A win-win, wouldn’t you say?”

They saluted each other and she started running towards the last known position of the rest of her Platoon. No doubt to carry out some manner of unspeakable violence on the unsuspecting local population.

As Maes turned towards his friend, he was surprised to see that Roy was smiling.

“Well, I cannot fault her her love of alchemy. Reminds me of myself before the War.”

Major Mustang turned to him and something about how Maes was frustrated must have tipped him off that he did not agree with his assessment.

Roy shook his head in confusion.

“I’m serious. She has a certain charisma and she’s a child soldier, but I wouldn’t go so far as calling her a ‘monster’.”

At that moment Maes had an epiphany.

‘That’s why I was always feeling so unsettled around her… she’s too perfect. What’s more…’

He had to tell his friend, but he knew that Roy was far too boneheaded and stubborn to take him at his word. He would need to walk him through the process to coming to the same conclusion himself.

“That’s the insidious nature of it Roy. Let me ask you, what do you think the Lieutenant Colonel’s is like off the battlefield?”

The Flame Alchemist looked at his friend incredulously and smirked.

“I think someone might be a little jealous-”

Maes cut him off. This was not to be some “heart-to-heart” between friends. This was serious. This was something that could affect Roy’s chance at being Fürer.

“Answer the damn question, Roy!”

Roy was – understandably – shocked by his change of tone. However, they had been around each other on the battlefield to go through plenty of mood-swings with each other. Instead of trying to calm him down or continue joking around, Roy just nodded his head and took things seriously.

“Okay, okay. She likes talking shop. I suppose she’s an alchemist through-and-through.”

‘Just what I thought.’

Maes nodded his head.

“Exactly. That is what you would think. Now think back. What did her subordinate say?”

The Major made a show of thinking: closing his eyes and tilting his head to one side.

“If I remember right, the 1st Lieutenant mentioned that she was a born commander.”

Now Maes gestured to himself.

“And what did I think of her? Before I called her a monster, that is. I spent a month with her every day eating breakfast, lunch and supper with her.”

Roy rolled his eyes.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

Obviously the question was rhetorical, but it was just like Roy to get a word in edgewise. Maes bit down his frustration and continued.

“I thought ‘Man, this kid really reminds me of my cousin. Maybe there’s something off, but she’s pretty cute.’ I think that was the real gut punch when that cute kid started butchering enemy soldiers.”

Roy clenched his fist in frustration.

“I get it Hughes, I do. It’s wrong. Seeing a tiny child order around a Battalion to kill Ishvalans like so many toys in a playroom? It’s sick. But that’s the military, damn it. No price has ever been too high for power. You know that.”

Maes took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“You’re not getting it. I’m not talking about the military. Think! You’re defending her. Why?”

Roy raised an eyebrow.

“She’s a fellow State Alchemist, of course I would-”

“So is Solf Kimblee! Why haven’t you defended his brand of insanity?”

Roy was caught off-guard by the comparison.

“That’s… come on Maes, that’s different. Lieutenant Colonel Degurechaff’s thinking about the peacetime applications of her Alchemy. She’s nothing like that psychopath; she still has hope for the future. I don’t want to be the part of the military that destroys that piece of her.”

Maes shook his head and gestured to the ruined cityscape around them.

“You’re still caught up in the conversation you just had. Look at her actions. If she cares so much about the peacetime applications, why did she make a weapon first.”

Unlike his last suggestion, it seemed like Roy was thinking a bit more deeply now.

‘Finally, come on Roy, don’t make the same mistake I made months ago. This isn’t just some ordinary child-soldier here.’

After a few moments, Roy shook his head.

“I don’t know. Perhaps her research couldn’t get funding and the Military is always favored over the Civil sector.”

Maes rolled his eyes.

“Come on, you can do better than that. Her Orb is miraculous Roy; she could have received funding by anyone for that. But let’s ignore that for a moment. More important than her research is the fact that she doesn’t need to be on the front lines at all. She didn’t even need to be a State Alchemist. You can work for military research or make weapons without any of that. You don’t become one unless you have something you’re working towards. You joined because you wanted to help the nation, right? Well, if she really is so smart, why isn’t she sitting in a comfortable lab working 2 hours a day and living off the royalties? What’s her goal?”

Roy’s eyes widened.

“She needs the military for something…? No, she’s just a kid. She doesn’t… but the military does.”

Maes gave his friend an exaggerated nod.

“Brilliant deduction. And now you’ve come around to my realization 3 months ago. Of course, that’s only the tip of the iceberg. At first, I thought she might just be a sucker like we were: she joined because she bought the propaganda and the military was using her for their own ends.”

He shook his head.

“Until now. She’s too good. The perfect commander, the perfect alchemist, the perfect conversationalist. She always shows her ‘best side’ and if you aren’t looking at the bigger picture, you end up trusting and defending her. But between talking with her three months ago, then with her subordinate, then now; well, it was like talking about three different ‘Tanya Degurechaffs’. The curious child, the born commander and the passionate alchemist, each persona carefully crafted to fit the situation.”

Captain Maes Hughes then put on his best “serious face” he could. His last argument was a bit of a stretch, but if it was true, he would find some evidence soon enough.

“But where did all this come from? You know what the education system is like for orphans, Roy. You broke out of it and became a State Alchemist thanks in no small part to Riza’s father, but it’s not exactly conducive to creating well-rounded child prodigies. Now, I want to ask if her background reminds you of anyone. She’s a child soldier, someone without parents who raised quickly though the ranks. Someone martially strong, cunning and charismatic who became a Staff Officer before most people entered the academy.”

Judging by the horror that appeared on Roy’s face, they were thinking the same thing.

“The Fürer. What you’re saying is King Bradley wasn’t a fluke?! He was manufactured… designed to be the perfect leader. He was a ward of the military and then his aggressive expansionism… Could he have been raised by some cabal in Military High Command? But my goal…”

That was why Maes could not let this conversation go unsaid. He nodded.

“If what I’m saying is true, then your goal just got a lot harder. If there’s any proof, I’ll find it. You can count on that, but this isn’t just any conspiracy theory I spun out of thin-air either. King Bradley’s getting on in years, so how convenient would it be that his successor is ready and waiting in the wings for him to retire.”

Roy shook his head and sat down. The Flame Alchemist looked like he aged ten years over the course of the conversation. Looking away, he put his head in his hands.

“She’s already at a higher rank, Maes. What are we going to do? I thought we’d have time.”

Maes grabbed his shoulder and gave him a small smile.

“So she has an edge? So what? It was always the plan to rule Amestris as soon as possible; so what if the plan’s been shifted ahead a little. You’re not out yet, are you, Roy?”

The Major clenched his fists and looked back at him, a hardness returning to his eyes.

“No, it just means we need to play things a little closer to our chest than I’d expected. Will make things a lot harder; might have to call in all of our favors just to survive.”

He stood up and made his way to the door.

“When this war’s over, I think I’ll be introducing you to the family. I think you and Aunt Christmas should swap stories, really network.”

He shook his head and made his way out the door. As Maes went to follow him out, he could just make out a few last words under his breath.

“I hate having to owe Auntie anything, but I think she’ll let things slide… this time.”