When all you have left is your face, who can you trust? Especially when that face morphs to suit your surroundings... [A FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST FANFIC] Tempest, Storm Alchemist. This child of fifteen has a past equal parts bathed in innocent sunshine and drenched in blood of her - I mean, his - own making. With one automail leg slightly too large for his body, he wades his way through Central Military headquarters, keeping in mind his singular selfless goal and unable to forget the horrors a certain Colonel bestowed upon him before he'd even reached his teens.
6 parts