Moonlight spilled like silver fire over the jagged ruins of an ancient city, buried deep within the shifting sands of the Saharan Expanse. Massive stone obelisks jutted upward, their surfaces carved with faded inscriptions, a language older than any spoken tongue. The night air shimmered with a strange energy—something almost alive, and yet unseen. At the center of this forgotten world stood a figure draped in fiery crimson robes, fringed with black alchemical symbols. His golden hair caught the light of the twin moons, tied back into a braid that swung with every subtle motion. Edward Elric, known to history as the “Iron Alchemist,” had finally returned to this place of whispers and shadows.
Edward’s physique remained lean and wiry despite his years of wandering. His automail arm glinted as he adjusted the worn leather satchel slung over his shoulder. With every step forward, his boots crunched over shattered pottery and the bone-dry remnants of a world long past. The crimson cloak around him rippled against the wind, the edges frayed by decades of hardship. The ruins loomed imposing around him, pillars twisted from the wear of untold centuries—this place was older than humanity’s rise, older perhaps than the concept of science itself. And tonight, Edward intended to learn its final secret.
The Ghost in the Ruins
The alchemist crouched before the lip of an immense chasm in the earth. Deep below, molten light pulsed like the heart of a living thing, casting an eerie glow on his face. Ignoring the sweat that trickled down his brow, Edward unrolled a yellowed parchment. His fingers traced over symbols—alchemy circles, impossibly complex—etched by someone whose expertise far eclipsed his own. Whispers clawed at the edges of his consciousness, faint and sickly sweet. They came from the chasm, teasing his name like a forgotten hymn.
How long had it been since he last thought of that day? The price of the ultimate sin: human transmutation. He shook the memory away, refusing to be drawn back into the past. But here, the shadows almost seemed alive. A vision of Nina—a pure, innocent girl—flashed before his mind’s eye. He heard Alphonse’s voice, stronger than memory itself. “Brother, how far will you go for redemption?”
The Betrayal of Antiquity
“Elric!” a voice boomed, sharp and commanding. Edward turned just in time to see the figure emerge from the crumbling remains of an ancient colonnade. Zahir ibn Rashid, a desert scholar turned mercenary, strode toward him, his robes flowing like dark waves in the merciless wind. His bronzed skin and piercing green eyes marked him as a man of the sands, but the pistol holstered at his hip spoke to ambitions far removed from the scholarly pursuits he claimed to follow.
“I told you not to follow me,” Edward said, his tone colder than the desert night. He rose to his full height, the automail on his right arm groaning softly as if preparing for conflict.
“And yet, here I am,” Zahir countered, a smirk playing across his scarred lips. His fingers twitched near the pistol. “I warned you, Elric. Whatever lies in that chasm—it’s not salvation. It’s damnation. Let it sleep.”
Edward’s golden eyes burned. “You know nothing of salvation.”
A gust of wind roared through the ruins, carrying grains of sand that hissed like serpents. For a moment, there was no sound but the howl of the air and the beating of Edward’s furious heart.
The Fractured Circle
As Edward pressed the tip of his automail fingers to the etched circle beneath his feet, the runes flared to life. Bluish light illuminated the amphitheater-like ruins, casting long shadows against the once-majestic walls. Hieroglyphs ignited across the entire expanse, washing the site in an ethereal glow. Beneath the earth, the molten core of energy pulsed more fiercely, like a beast struggling to awaken from centuries of slumber.
“Don’t do this!” Zahir shouted, drawing the pistol now and aiming it directly at Edward’s heart. “You cannot control this power! Fool, it won’t bring anyone back! It will only destroy you!”
“You think I’m still chasing the past?” Edward spat, voice filled with venom. “No. I’m here to protect the future. We’ve tampered with alchemy for too long without understanding the consequences. This is about balance. This is about the truth.”
Before Zahir could respond, the chasm erupted. A column of golden light shot into the heavens, blasting through the cloudless night sky. All around them, the ruins trembled. Stone fractured and fell as the ancient structure could no longer contain the power rising from its depths. Edward’s automail arm shielded his face as the winds closed in, carrying with them haunting whispers, now deafeningly loud.
And then, amidst the chaos, a figure rose from the chasm.
The Price of Truth
Twisted and radiant, the figure seemed composed of pure alchemical energy, its shape amorphous yet vaguely humanoid. Its gaze, or what could pass for one, turned first to Edward, and then to Zahir. The whispers ceased, replaced by a cold, resonant voice that echoed in both their minds.
“Why have you disturbed eternity?”
Edward, heart pounding but resolve firmly in place, stood his ground. “I seek knowledge. I seek understanding. I seek… the truth.”
The figure’s form rippled, and a deep laugh rumbled, chilling and cruel. “Truth cannot be given. It must be earned. And the price is… everything.”
Zahir didn’t hesitate. He fired the pistol, bullet zipping through the air—but the glowing being dissolved the projectile in an instant. Then it turned, extending a tendril of golden energy toward the terrified scholar. Zahir screamed as he was drawn into the light, his body evaporating into particles before vanishing forever.
Edward watched with horror but knew there was no time to grieve. The figure loomed closer, speaking only one final word:
“Choose.”
Echoes of Redemption
When the dust finally settled, Edward knelt alone at the edge of the chasm. The ruins had collapsed completely, burying whatever had emerged deep beneath the earth once again. His crimson cloak was torn, his automail shattered, but he was alive—and with him, the weight of what he had learned.
The whispers were gone, the energies quieted. But now Edward understood: the search for the truth came with a price no one could comprehend until it was too late. He looked to the horizon, where dawn was beginning to break. The golden hues of sunrise filled the shattered ruins, a promise of both renewal and despair.
With heavy steps, he walked away from the ruins, leaving the past behind once more. Yet the whispers of the forgotten city, and the choice he had made, would follow him for the rest of his days.
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Viral Fullmetal Alchemist Cosplay: The Story Behind Anime’s Saddest Scene (And How to Create Your Own)
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