The morning after Trisha Elric passed was cold—not from the weather, but from the weight of what was missing.
Her laughter no longer echoed through the hall. Her gentle touch, her warm meals, her hopeful voice—all gone.
Edward didn't cry that morning.
He didn't speak.
He simply stood at the edge of the orchard, fists clenched, eyes dry, staring into nothing.
Alphonse sat on the porch, hugging his knees to his chest, chin resting against them. His eyes were puffy and red, his silence louder than screams.
And Auron… stood alone inside the workshop, his silver-and-gold eyes staring at the alchemy books, not reading—studying pain.
The three of them were together.
Yet shattered.
It was Pinako who eventually spoke. "Grief takes time," she said, pouring them warm tea. "But grief also gives you a choice: sit with it… or build something from it."
Edward looked up. "Build something?"
"Your mother believed in you boys. She always said her sons would shape the world. That includes you too, Auron."
He flinched slightly, not used to being included like that. In his last life, power had made him feared and separated. But here… she was treating him like any other grieving boy.
It hurt more than he expected.
That evening, Edward gathered them in the study. His eyes were fierce again, not with anger—but with obsession.
"We can bring her back," he said.
Alphonse looked uncertain. "Brother…"
"I've done the math," Ed continued, flipping open a notebook. "Carbon, hydrogen, oxygen—our bodies are just chemicals. If we calculate the exact composition and structure, we can reconstruct the human body. And we already know how to bind a soul."
Auron said nothing at first. He knew where this led. In his world, people had attempted things far worse, using jutsu, forbidden seals, even sacrificing loved ones. It always ended in ruin.
"I've been studying too," Ed added, glancing at Auron. "I saw your notes. The symbols you draw in the dirt. They're not in any alchemy books."
Auron narrowed his eyes. "They aren't meant for this world."
Edward stepped forward. "Then help us. If you know more than us, if you really understand the risks, then guide us."
"I am guiding you," Auron snapped. "By telling you not to do this."
Alphonse looked between them. "Auron… if there's even a chance… shouldn't we try?"
Silence settled between them like a heavy fog.
Then Auron turned away, jaw tight. "I promised your mother I'd protect you both. If you cross this line, I won't be able to stop what happens."
Edward stepped closer, placing a hand on Auron's shoulder. "We're not doing this without you."
That made him pause.
"We're brothers," Alphonse said softly. "We're the bond she left behind. Whether this works or not, we face it together."
Auron closed his eyes.
In that moment, he remembered another promise—in another life. To protect, to lead, to never abandon those he cared about. That promise had been lost in blood and ash. But maybe here…
He looked at his brothers.
"…Then we do it my way," he said finally. "We blend your alchemy… with my chakra. We create something the world's never seen. And we make sure… it costs us nothing we aren't prepared to lose."
Edward and Alphonse nodded.
Together, the three boys began drawing the circle—not a standard transmutation array, but something else. A fusion. Runes wrapped in energy spirals. Chakra conduits linked to alchemic catalysts. It was part science, part instinct, part sorrow.
It was terrifyingly beautiful.
For days, they studied. Prepared. Drew and redrew the array. They analyzed souls, read ancient texts, and listened to Auron's knowledge of energy beyond comprehension.
And finally, the circle was ready.
The bond of three—blood, pain, hope.
The night before the transmutation, they sat under the stars, shoulders brushing.
"What do you think Mom would say?" Alphonse whispered.
Edward smiled faintly. "Probably yell at us."
"Then hug us anyway," Auron added quietly.
They laughed, just a little.
That night, before sleep claimed them, Auron opened his eyes to the darkness. His vision flickered with red and violet light. He looked at the sleeping faces of Edward and Alphonse.
"I'll protect you both," he whispered to the night. "Even from yourselves."
The bond of three had been forged in loss.
But what awaited them tomorrow would test that bond beyond anything they could imagine.
And only one thing was certain:
Nothing would ever be the same again.