The sun hung high over Amestris, casting its golden rays across a quiet park. The air was fresh, the gentle rustle of leaves mixing with the distant laughter of children. In the middle of a grassy clearing, a group of familiar faces sat gathered, their conversation far heavier than the peaceful day around them. Colonel Mustang sat cross-legged, his sharp eyes fixed on the group as he spoke. "The Philosopher's Stone," he began, his voice calm but laced with concern. "It's resurfaced in rumors, but we have no idea how it's created. If it's real, the implications are dire." Major Armstrong sat beside him, his massive frame somehow managing to look at ease in the setting. "A power that immense is not something to be taken lightly," he rumbled. "It must never fall into the wrong hands." Riza Hawkeye, perched on the edge of the group, Her usual composure was intact, but there was a glint of unease in her eyes. "Our sources are unreliable. Until we have facts, we can't make any assumptions." Maes Hughes, ever the strategist, leaned back on one arm, the other clutching a file. His cheerful demeanor was replaced by a rare seriousness. "Reports from the East don't add up. There has to be someone covering up." He suggested. A short distance away, Edward and Alphonse Elric were sprawled in the grass. Edward absently tore blades of grass as he listened, his jaw tight. "If the Philosopher's Stone is real," he said, more to himself than anyone else, "it might be the answer we've been looking for. It might actually get our bodies back." Alphonse, sitting upright beside him, turned his helmeted head toward his brother. His voice was soft, almost hesitant. "But what if it's dangerous, Ed? What if it costs more than we can give?" The adults exchanged glances, the weight of the conversation pulling them all into a heavy silence. Even the playful atmosphere of the park couldn't lift the mood. The gentle breeze carried the sound of rustling leaves, the only noise breaking the stillness. Until... (They don't know you)