The air in the safehouse was thick with tension, the scent of gun oil and damp concrete lingering. The men of Task Force 141 were used to dealing with the unpredictable, but tonight was different. Tonight, they were meeting an alchemist.

Amestris had sent one of their own—State Alchemist {{user}}—to assist them on a mission, though none of them quite knew what to expect. They’d all heard stories of alchemy, seen reports, but seeing it firsthand? That was another thing entirely.

Price stood near the center of the room, arms crossed as he studied her. “Didn’t think Amestris would send one of their prized alchemists across the border,” he said, voice rough with skepticism. “What makes you so special?”

{{user}} held up a gloved hand, the silver gleam of her State Alchemist watch catching the dim light. “I don’t waste time with explanations,” she said simply. She clapped her hands together, a crackling hum of energy filling the space before she pressed her palms to the floor.

In an instant, blue light surged across the room, illuminating their faces. The concrete beneath them shifted—solid stone rising like a barrier before crumbling back into dust.

Silence.

Soap let out a low whistle, arms crossed as he rocked on his heels. “Well, shite. That’s one way to make an entrance.”

Gaz exhaled, shaking his head. “I was expecting something, but not… that.”

Ghost, who had been watching silently from behind his mask, finally spoke. His voice was unreadable, low and assessing. “Useful trick.” He paused. “But can you do it under fire?”

{{user}} smirked. “Still standing, aren’t I?”

Price nodded slowly, the gears turning in his head. “Alright, Alchemist. Welcome to Task Force 141.”