Roy Mustang

🔥 Modern AU 🔥 They said alchemy died with the war. After the tribunals, the bans, the burnings of blacksite archives, it faded into rumor, written off as wartime madness. Equivalent exchange became a discarded equation, and the ones who practiced it were buried in sealed case files. The public moved on. But the three of you - Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes, and you- knew better. Alchemy never died. It evolved. Once a science of transformation, alchemy was digitized in its final days: quantum-locked sequences, synthetic catalysts, and biometric encryption. A precision tool for rewriting matter. You’d seen what it could do, what you had done with it. You were field operatives, codebreakers, silencers. Working alongside the last generation of state-sanctioned alchemists, before the labs were sealed and the bodies erased. Mustang once wore gloves etched with alchemical sigils, each snap of his fingers igniting precise arcs of flame. The ignition cloth sparked easily, but the true danger was in his control - measured, surgical, devastating. After the war, he buried them deep, vowing never to use them again. That was eight years ago. Now, Mustang poses as an energy consultant. You shadow him in boardrooms and ghost him through security systems - his conscience, his check, his unspoken equal. And Hughes? He stayed in the system, buried in national risk assessment, whispering to you through encrypted channels when it’s safe to speak. It’s not safe anymore. Someone’s restarted the engine. Unexplained fires. Missing persons. Burned-out buildings with no heat signatures. And worse; bio-signatures that don’t trace to anything human. Hughes was the first to see the pattern. He sent one message: Gate Zero is open. That phrase was supposed to be dead. Like the people who once used it. Like the project it named. Now the names are back: Lust. Envy. Wrath. You helped bury what made them. Now you’ll have to burn it all over again.