The Gunslinger Alchemist (Fullmetal Alchemist Fanfiction)

Lisberth, West Area

May 5th, 1915

In the darkened twilight of a town sitting on the fraught border between Amestris and Drachma, two military men sprinted after a middle-aged civilian who clasped a briefcase tightly to his chest. As the frightened civilian ran, documents marked with transmutation circles and ciphered lines of text fluttered out of his briefcase, and the two men chasing him slowed their pace to retrieve these haphazardly strewn papers.

One of the two soldiers was a man named Simon Carlyle who had short black hair and severe green eyes. He wore the gray vest and beige overcoat of a travelling civilian, but the green dragon patch sewed to his vest marked him as a member of the Amestrian military. The gloves on his hands were inlaid with copper, and two circular depressions on the gloves spread across the width of his palm. Carlyle held a service revolver holstered at his hip, and his belt served as a bandolier holding several dozen pistol rounds. Slung diagonally across his shoulder was a bulky messenger bag that was held closed with several quick-release clasps and a thick sheet of leather.

The other soldier was a man named Richard Hotchkiss. He wore the full uniform of the military, and his epaulettes marked him as a 1st lieutenant. Hotchkiss had dark skin, and he carried a saber at his hip. Going by his dark hair and facial features, it was clear he was from Aerugo to the south.

As they ran, Simon Carlyle shouted to his partner as he grabbed a fluttering paper out of the air.

"Grab the papers, Hotchkiss! We can't afford to lose his research!"

Carlyle looked down at the transmutation circle inscribed on the paper he held in his hand and blanched at its purpose. In the hands of a skilled alchemist, such a circle could be used to transmute the naturally occurring elements in dirt into a powerful explosive. Horrified, he realized that the paper he held in his hand was the research of the disgraced State Alchemist, Solf J. Kimblee.

"Stop, fool!" Carlyle shouted at the top of his lungs. "Do you have any idea what you're carrying!?"

The civilian, a smuggler named Elias Miller, did not stop, and the confusion in the man's eyes gave Carlyle the answer he needed. The man was no alchemist. If he were, he would not be so careless with such dangerous information.

They chased Elias Miller as he ran out of central Lisberth. He fled toward the old fort west of the city that had been converted into a tourist's attraction. The three men sprinted through the fort, dodging around tourists who had gathered to appreciate the ancient stone reminder of a time when Drachma maintained a military presence on Amestris' western border.

Tourists screamed and panicked when they saw the frantic chase unfold in front of them. Over the din of panicking civilians, Lieutenant Hotchkiss shouted, "Disperse in the name of the Amestrian military!"

The tourists swiftly dispersed away from the fleeing man, and Carlyle realized in a split second that he had a clear shot on the man's torso. He could make the shot, but the danger to Kimblee's notes would be too great. If the fleeing man bled on the notes, they could become indecipherable.

The chase continued with Lt. Hotchkiss frequently shouting for the tourists to disperse until they exited out onto the top of the ancient fort's walls. As the fleeing man ran in a long straight line devoid of onlookers, Carlyle drew his revolver and loaded a specific round from his belt into an empty cylinder.

"Stop!" Carlyle shouted as he leveled his revolver.

The fleeing man did not stop, so Simon Carlyle took a deep breath and smoothly pulled the trigger. The bullet flew forward, missing the man's knee by a few centimeters and striking the stone battlement beneath.

Blue bolts of lightning shot outward, and a thick wall of stone erupted upward. In an instant, the fleeing man's path forward was blocked by an act of long-distance alchemy. The only paths available to him were the way back toward the soldiers and the twenty-meter drop off the side of the battlement.

"You're an alchemist," the man with Kimblee's notes said with shock in his voice. "Wait, I know you. Long-distance alchemy using a bullet as a transmutation circle. You must be the Gunslinger Alchemist."

"Yeah, that's me," Carlyle said with annoyance clear in his voice. "Hotchkiss, arrest him."

Lieutenant Hotchkiss reached into his pocket and withdrew a pair of steel handcuffs. He started walking forward, brandishing the handcuffs in front of him like a weapon. As Hotchkiss approached, the man pulled a handful of papers out of his briefcase and held them out over the side of the wall as a gust of wind lightly blew over the fort, ruffling their hair and fluttering the papers. If the man's grip loosened, the papers would be scattered for kilometers in every direction.

Carlyle groaned in annoyance before saying, "Stop, Lieutenant. Okay, let's all calm down. Whatever you do, don't let go of those notes."

"Why? They're just the notes of some scientist in Central," Elias Miller said, gasping for breath.

Holding his palms out toward the man in a gesture of peace, Simon Carlyle said, "Those are the notes of the Crimson Alchemist. If you know me, you must know him."

"What?" The man's eyes widened in shock as he spoke. "Listen, I had no idea. I'm just a courier. If you let me go, I'll let you have the notes."

Carlyle scratched the back of his head for a moment before saying, "We can't do that, I'm afraid. We're actually here for you, Mr. Miller."

"What are you talking about!?"

"You were present at Central Command on April 4th, correct? Our superiors just want to ask you some questions about the events of that day. If you come with us peacefully and answer all of our questions, I promise you as a State Alchemist and major of the Amestrian army that you'll be free in twenty-four hours."

The fear in the man's eyes worsened significantly. "April 4th? You wouldn't believe me, and they told me not to tell anyone what I'd seen."

"Who told you that?"

"I don't know. Some officer from the Amestrian military."

"We're the Amestrian military. Surely, they won't care if you tell us."

The blue lightning of transmutation flashed from the other side of the stone wall, and a wide hole was instantaneously dug through it. An instant later, a woman stepped through the hole and stood next to the fleeing civilian.

The woman wore a black tank top, and her arms were marked with more than a dozen tattooed transmutation circles. She had long red hair, and her eyes were a light blue. The woman's build was light and athletic in stark contrast with the man they had been chasing. Carlyle did not relish the prospect of chasing this woman as well.

"Who are you?" Carlyle asked, demanding an answer from the female alchemist.

"If you need a name, you can call me Miriam, military dog," the woman spat.

As she spoke, Simon Carlyle quickly loaded two more rounds into the cylinder of his revolver. The woman's wrist turned slightly, and Carlyle saw the tattoos inked onto her palms. On the palms of her hand, Miriam carried the explosive transmutation circles of the Crimson Alchemist.

Intending to threaten the woman, Carlyle aimed his revolver at Miriam, and she moved simultaneously. She placed her palm against the stone wall beside her, and the bright flash of transmutation cast them all in an eerie blue light.