Rain pelted the cobbled streets of East City. The heavy clouds overhead did little to mask the tension building inside the military recruitment office.
Edward stood tall in front of the imposing desk, coat soaked and stubbornness thick in his voice. "We're ready to become State Alchemists."
Colonel Roy Mustang peered over the papers with a lifted brow, his gloved hand poised beneath his chin. "You're children."
"And we're also the only ones in this room who've seen the Gate," Edward snapped. "My brother and I know what we're doing."
Mustang's dark eyes narrowed—not in anger, but calculation. "Brothers, huh?"
He glanced toward the tall, silent figure beside Ed—Auron Elric.
Auron's gold hair was pulled back tightly. His silver-and-gold eyes, though seemingly calm, flickered faintly with chakra lightning whenever the fluorescent lights above buzzed.
"And you?" Mustang asked. "You don't speak unless spoken to?"
Auron met his gaze. "I speak when there's something worth saying."
Mustang gave a slow smirk. "You've got a smart mouth. I like that. Reminds me of myself when I was reckless and had too much firepower."
"I'm not reckless," Auron replied coolly. "Just focused."
"You've applied as a pair, but if you fail the exams, you'll be separated," Mustang warned. "The military doesn't coddle siblings."
"We won't fail," Edward growled.
Mustang leaned back, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk. "You're trying to fix something, aren't you? Something broken."
Edward said nothing.
Auron, however, stepped forward, eyes suddenly alive with inner light. "We're not trying. We will."
---
The brothers were given temporary quarters that night within East City's barracks. It was there, under flickering oil lamps and the smell of metal polish, that the weight of their actions finally crashed down on them.
Edward leaned against the window, arms crossed, watching lightning dance across the sky.
"Do you think Al's in pain… even now?" he asked softly.
Auron sat on the edge of his bunk, breathing quietly, staring down at his palms. "Yes."
Silence stretched.
"I hate this," Ed muttered. "We were supposed to fix everything. I thought we could do it together. But every time we try… someone bleeds. Someone burns."
"You think I don't feel the same?"
Auron's voice was tight.
"You didn't lose your leg. Or your arm," Ed shot back. "You didn't—"
"I lost him, too!" Auron snapped suddenly, standing. "You think this is about limbs and metal? I feel it every day—his absence tearing through me like a sword. And I couldn't stop it. With all this power, with all this damn energy, I still couldn't stop it!"
Lightning burst from his fingers. The lamp shattered. Sparks scattered across the room.
Ed turned, eyes wide. "Auron…"
The taller boy turned away, voice rough. "I see him every time I close my eyes. Every time I activate my Sharingan. He's in there. Screaming. Waiting. And I can't bring him back. Not yet."
Edward's anger faltered, guilt rising in its place. He stepped forward.
"You've carried more than I realized."
Auron gave a bitter chuckle. "That's because I hide it well."
---
Later that night, as both tried to find sleep, Auron stood once more before the mirror—alone. His reflection trembled. Not from fear—but from the weight of knowing.
His Rinne-Mangekyō activated.
In the mirror, he saw himself—not as he was now—but as the boy he could become if he let regret consume him. A figure cloaked in fire and shadow, a warrior of vengeance rather than hope.
The reflection spoke.
"You're already burning."
Auron whispered back, "Not yet. But I might."
And with that, he closed his eyes, sealing the emotion behind layers of chakra and calm.
---
The next morning, as sunlight cut through gray clouds, the brothers arrived at the military testing arena. They were not alone.
Other alchemist candidates watched them with wary eyes. Some laughed. Some scoffed.
"That's the Elric brat? The short one?" one whispered.
"And that tall guy with the weird eyes. What's with that?"
Edward ignored them.
Auron didn't even blink.
From the balcony above, Roy Mustang watched with arms folded.
Beside him stood Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, eyes cold and calculating.
"They have power," she observed. "But the tall one… He's hiding something."
Mustang's gloved hand twitched.
"I know," he said softly. "He's more dangerous than the short one."
Riza looked at him. "And if he loses control?"
Mustang frowned. "Then we'll have to choose which Elric we're willing to fight."