The Elric brothers had always lived with scars—some on the skin, some in the heart. But in the weeks following the ritual, their wounds became part of their drive. Alphonse may have been gone, but his memory remained in every strike of Edward's automail against training posts, and in every pulse of chakra that flowed through Auron's veins.
Today, the two remaining Elric brothers stood atop the cliffs outside Resembool.
Barefoot. Shirtless. Determined.
They had been training together for nearly twelve hours—fists bruised, breath ragged, but eyes unwavering.
Edward had improved significantly. His transmutations had become faster, more efficient. He could manipulate stone and steel with little more than a clap and instinctual motion. His automail had been upgraded—Winry's new design allowed for smoother shoulder rotation and a reinforced wrist for close combat.
Auron, however, was evolving in ways Edward could barely comprehend.
The Rinne-Mangekyō was no longer dormant. Even when inactive, faint patterns shimmered behind Auron's silver irises. He'd learned to suppress its outward glow, but its influence was always there—whispering. Watching. Waiting.
Today's training had gone beyond hand-to-hand. They were testing blood.
"Draw a line," Auron said, holding out a kunai he had crafted from forged chakra-steel.
Edward raised a brow. "You sure about this?"
"Do it."
With a shrug, Edward slashed a small cut across Auron's forearm. Blood dripped onto the ground, and Auron quickly moved his fingers in a sequence foreign to alchemy. His blood pulsed, reacting to his chakra, and then with a flash of red-violet light, it rose from the dirt—forming into a perfect replication of his kunai mid-air.
Edward blinked. "That wasn't alchemy."
"No. It's blood chakra art. Something I developed after studying my reaction to the Gate."
Auron caught the blade in midair. "I've been evolving. Fusing chakra with transmutation energy—bypassing the need for traditional materials."
"That's insane," Edward muttered, then grinned. "...But also kind of awesome."
Auron smiled faintly, but his expression quickly turned serious.
"There's something else. I want to show you."
He knelt, carving a symbol into the dirt using a finger coated in his own blood. It looked like a transmutation circle—but embedded within it were chakra seals, Mangekyō spirals, and even a condensed Gate sigil.
Edward frowned. "That looks like the one you used before."
"It's not," Auron replied. "This one doesn't reach Alphonse. It just lets us speak."
"You mean—"
Auron activated his Rinne-Mangekyō. Lightning arced between the points of the circle, and the air shimmered with energy. A flicker of golden-white light appeared in the center—wavering, incomplete—but slowly, the shape of a young boy emerged.
Translucent. But smiling.
"Al…"
Edward stepped forward, tears immediately rising to his eyes. "Alphonse?!"
The projection nodded. His voice echoed like wind through leaves. "You found me…"
Auron's hands trembled from maintaining the technique. Blood dripped from his fingertips. The cost of sustaining the link was immense.
"We're going to bring you back," Edward promised, stepping closer.
Alphonse looked toward Auron. "You've changed, Brother. Your eyes…"
Auron smiled faintly. "I'll become whatever I need to… to fix this."
The link wavered—unstable. Al's figure flickered like a candle flame in a storm.
"I don't have much time," he said. "But I know where my soul is. I can feel it."
"Where?" Auron and Edward asked at once.
"…You'll have to go to the capital. Father's research… it's there. Hidden."
The projection shattered like glass.
The brothers were left in silence.
---
Later that night, the two stood beneath the stars again. Edward had his arm wrapped, Auron's hands were stained with bandages and chakra burns.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ed asked.
"Yes," Auron replied simply. "We're not just chasing ghosts anymore. We have direction."
Ed nodded. "We'll become State Alchemists. Get into the military. Use their resources."
Auron closed his eyes. "And we find Father's trail."
They stood together, silently, their silhouettes side by side under the moonlight—just two boys holding up a world shattered by ambition and loss.
Before turning in for the night, Edward held out his hand.
"No more secrets. We're doing this as brothers."
Auron looked at him for a long moment.
Then grasped his hand firmly.
"Brothers. Always."
Their grip tightened.
And the truth—bloody, painful, but real—bound them more than any circle ever could.