The Gunslinger Alchemist (Fullmetal Alchemist Fanfiction)

"Good afternoon, this is Major Simon Carlyle from the State Alchemist Department. Could you please connect me to the office of Lieutenant General Lloyd Schneider?"

The Major tapped the hard leather sole of his shoe on the ground impatiently as he held the telephone receiver to his ear. In the hand not holding the phone, he held his notebook, which was filled with frantic notes detailing the important facts from Elias Miller's testimony. He stood in the office of Lisberth's police commissioner who selflessly "volunteered" to let Carlyle use his office phone for as long as necessary when he heard the name of the regional commander being thrown around.

"Please provide your security code, Major Carlyle," the phone operator requested politely.

"Yes, ma'am," Carlyle said, trying not to let his tone convey the anxiety and excitement running through his body. Elias Miller had given him the investigative breakthrough he was looking for, and the General had to know as soon as possible.

"Kilo - two - another two - foxtrot - four - five - november - three - zero - another zero - six."

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There was a long pause as the phone operator referenced Major Carlyle's security code. Eventually, the female voice returned, saying, "Thank you for your patience. I will connect you to Lieutenant General Schneider in a moment."

There was another pause, and then the familiar sound of the General's voice cut through the static of the empty line.

"This is Schneider. Report."

"Sir!" Carlyle said, and he had to stop himself from saluting on muscle memory alone. "I have information to report regarding my mission. Is this a secure line?"

"You're calling from a non-military telephone, so our call is far from secure. That doesn't matter. Let them eavesdrop, that's what I say! No one in this country holds authority over us, and there are no assassins in this world that can stand up to the might of the Amestrian State Alchemists. Speak your mind, son."

Carlyle could hear the General's smile and infectious energy over the phone, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling. He could really see why General Schneider held the highest military rank of all State Alchemists.

"Thank you, sir," Carlyle said as he looked down at the jumble of notes sitting in his lap. "This might take a little while, but I'm sure you want to hear this."

"I have time," Schneider answered affably.

Over the next few minutes, Carlyle provided an abridged version of Elias Miller's testimony. He told Schneider about the Briggs soldiers guarding Central Command while also providing some biased commentary on Fort Briggs and Major General Olivier Armstrong. Schneider listened politely, though he was less invested in the testimony than Carlyle predicted.

After more than ten minutes of talking, Carlyle moved on to the testimony of the battle in Central Command's courtyard. The Major was much less interested in this part of Elias Miller's testimony. Sure, it was significant, but Carlyle was far more interested in the testimony that pertained to the Fuhrer's assassination.

Schneider, on the other hand, became much more interested in the testimony as Carlyle described the powerful blond alchemist dressed in antique clothing.

"This alleged alchemist fought against more than a hundred enlisted soldiers and several State Alchemists. According to Elias Miller, Colonel Roy Mustang, Major Alex Louis Armstrong, and Edward Elric fought against this man who some called 'Father.'"

"What happened next? Did Elias Miller see what happened to Father!?"

General Schneider's voice was ragged and uneven. The old general was desperate to hear news on this alchemist who sounded like a fairy tale to Carlyle. For some reason that the Major did not understand, the General cared far more about this random alchemist than the assassination of Fuhrer King Bradley.

"Father was killed by Edward Elric. At least, that's what Elias Miller said."

As soon as Carlyle mentioned the death of father, a sound suspiciously similar to pained choking emanated from the other side of the line. When he finished speaking, more than ten seconds of silence followed, punctuated only by the sound of fabric tearing and metal clattering against wood. Carlyle tried to ignore the similarity it had to the sound of an officer tearing off his epaulettes and dropping them upon a table.

After a long silence, Carlyle nervously asked, "Uh… sir?"

"Major Simon Carlyle…" General Schneider said in an eerily calm voice. It was a voice filled with the resignation and acceptance of a man who knew he had lost a war. "I hereby resign as the Commander of the West Area."

"What!?" Carlyle gasped into the telephone. "What do you mean? Who will govern the West when you're gone?"

"I don't know." Schneider's voice became annoyed. "Might as well just put you in charge. You'd do a way better job than we ever would. Heheh." A cruel laugh came from the other side of the line.

Carlyle suddenly realized he had heard a similar tone before. Back in Ishval, one of the soldiers in his platoon was ordered to use incendiary mortar rounds on an enemy position. It turned out those "enemy combatants" were innocent civilians. When Carlyle sat at the mess hall with that soldier later that day, that soldier spoke in the exact same tone that General Schneider used at that moment.

Schneider said, "Maybe we'll finally be able to stop that war in Creta. Heh. As long as you don't actively sabotage yourself, they'll think you're a messiah sent by God."

"Sir, might I suggest you take a break?"

"No, I've never felt clearer in my entire life. It's like I'm waking up from a long dream, and only now am I finally seeing what's important. Yeah, I hereby name you, Simon Carlyle, my successor as Commander of the West Area."

"What? No! I'm only twenty-five years old, I have no experience in high-level military command, and I'm only a major."

"Right," Schneider paused. "Congratulations, you're a colonel, now. I'd make you a lieutenant general, but I only have the authority to raise you up to colonel without confirmation from the Fuhrer."

"What? Sir! I have to insist that you…"

"Stop your investigation into King Bradley's death and come back to West City so you can take command of the West Area. You are ordered to burn all documents regarding your investigation and to never tell anyone about what you found. Understand?"

"Yes?"

"Good."

The call dropped, and Simon Carlyle was left sitting there, aghast at the situation. He had just been promoted two ranks, but he didn't feel proud. A pit formed in his stomach as he realized that one of the three most powerful men in Amestris, a fundamental pillar of his country, had gone completely insane.