The clatter of chalk on wood echoed through the Elric brothers' small study room. Edward stood on a stool, drawing transmutation circles furiously on an old chalkboard, the lines crisp but chaotic with emotion. Alphonse sat nearby, a book open in his lap, reciting from Modern Alchemic Theory Vol. II. Meanwhile, Auron quietly observed, his eyes calmly tracking every movement, every mark, every ripple in the energy around them.
Alchemy was a foundation of this world. But for Auron, it was only one thread in a much larger weave.
Edward spun around. "Okay! I think I've finally figured out how to increase the reaction time during transmutation. If I shift the circle this way—bam—it should bypass the delay in the material feedback loop!"
Alphonse clapped. "That's awesome, Brother!"
Auron stepped forward, tilting his head. "You'll burn out the catalyst layers. Too much direct energy pressure along that curve."
Ed frowned. "Wait, what?"
"See here?" Auron pointed to the ring of runes along the outer edge. "You're forcing energy in too fast. Try angling the glyphs to regulate flow, like a pressure valve."
Al looked impressed. "Ohhh, like a chakra gate!"
Auron froze for a split second—Alphonse didn't even realize the comparison he'd made. But yes… it was similar. In his past life, chakra gates had controlled energy output inside the body. Here, alchemy used external catalysts and laws.
Two sides of the same coin.
Edward grumbled and redrew the section. "Fine. Let's see if you're right."
The boys pushed the circle forward and set a small chunk of iron inside. Ed clapped his hands, slammed them to the circle—light flared.
The transmutation worked perfectly.
Even Auron raised an eyebrow. "Huh. You didn't mess it up this time."
"Don't sound so surprised!" Ed said, puffing out his chest. "I am a genius."
"I'm surrounded by geniuses…" Al sighed with a smile.
Auron's smirk faded just slightly. In truth, he was the genius among them—but he never bragged. He couldn't. Not when everything he knew was foreign, incomprehensible to anyone else. He had already developed a hybrid formula that allowed him to perform alchemy without circles, using chakra instead of traditional arrays. But if he revealed that…
They'd look at him differently.
So, he kept it to himself.
Later that afternoon, Auron ventured into the hills. A grove of trees surrounded a secluded clearing—his sanctuary. Away from Edward's fiery rants and Alphonse's gentle concerns. Here, he trained.
He placed both palms on the ground and let his chakra flow outward—not alchemic energy, but his own. The grass rustled around him, forming patterns from his will alone. His eyes opened, glowing with red and violet light. Rinnegan tomoe spun lazily, focused.
With a single thought, he lifted a massive boulder into the air—not with transmutation—but force manipulation via chakra pressure points he placed into the earth. He could see the gravitational fields around matter, even inanimate objects. And when he adjusted them, he could make anything float, fly, or collapse.
This was his alchemy.
He stepped forward and clapped his hands—not as a trigger, but as a habit. His fused chakra surged, and the boulder shattered into clean-cut cubes before vanishing in a red flash, absorbed into a small seal in his palm.
He had invented his own chakra-based storage seal using alchemy as a reference. Edward would have fainted if he saw it.
As he stood breathing steadily, a voice called out behind him.
"I knew you weren't just normal," Winry said.
Auron turned slowly.
She stood at the edge of the trees, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Her hair swayed with the wind, and her blue eyes were sharp with curiosity. She didn't look afraid—just curious.
"How long were you watching?" he asked, voice calm but cautious.
"Long enough to know that wasn't alchemy," she said. "You don't use circles. You don't chant. You don't even flinch when things explode. You're always calm… and quiet. It's weird."
He looked away. "…It's just something I can do."
"Does Ed know?"
He shook his head. "No one does."
Winry took a step closer. "Why hide it?"
Auron hesitated.
Then, he said the truth—soft, but heavy. "Because people fear what they don't understand. And I don't even understand it myself… not all of it."
Winry's expression softened. "You know, you don't have to carry everything alone. Ed tries. He fails. He throws tools across the room. Al cries when no one's looking. We're a mess. But we're a family."
Auron blinked, surprised by the weight of her words.
"I'm scared too," he admitted.
She stepped closer, touching his hand gently. "Then let us be scared together."
For the first time, someone saw a crack in his perfect mask.
And didn't run.
---
That night, he etched a new pattern into his personal training circle—one that combined alchemy with chakra, intention with intuition. The fusion of two worlds, built by his own hands.
His kind of alchemy.
A different kind.