WARNING: Story is rated for suicide, blood, death, gore, loss of limb in children, body dysphoria, lots of other shit. Language, maybe. The world is kind of a mixture/AU of FMA/FMAB.

Updates will be sporadic. I do what I want.

Read, Review, and Enjoy.

...

Somewhere, (and nowhere), a train pulls to a stop.

It was a scarlet steam engine; 'The Hogwarts Express' was painted on the side in gold letters. The the trains eye catching colors were a stark contrast to the all white and featureless landscape of its surroundings. This place was characterized only by a single, monolithic black gate and a small white figure sitting in front of it, the only distinguishing characteristic of which was a wide, teeth filled grin.

It's grin only got wider as the train's only passenger stepped off, a man with black hair and green eyes, wearing a sharp black suit with a long shimmering cloak draped over his shoulders. In his left hand he clutched an old wand, and his right hand bore a signet ring, studded with a smooth, but cracked river stone. His name was Harry Potter.

Harry gazed at the land around him. He was here, in this place, having taken that train, because he had...chosen to move on, as it were. He'd found himself in that same train station, as he had so many times before, to once again be greeted by Albus Dumbledore, who upon request had escorted Harry to the only train in station, the Hogwarts Express. The white facade of the train station had been left behind soon after he had departed from the world in which he was born, and instead a blank white landscape stretched away in all directions. The train had traveled for miles and miles, before it had come to a stop in front of the only architecture he had seen sense he'd left death's station.

He stood now in front of a white figure, who was smiling up at him. He was no manner of beast Harry had ever heard of, (and he would know, he got an 'O' in Care of Magical Creatures). It was unnerving though, almost...muggle in it's design, so clean and white. There was nothing so white in the wizarding world. At least it was humanoid.

Harry blinked down at the figure. It was surprisingly...short, though it was hard to tell, with it sitting down.

"Why have you come?" The figure asked. It's voice was multifaceted and echoed with many other voices, but it's main tones sounded almost...childlike.

"Who are you?" Harry asked instead of answering. "What are you?" He corrected himself.

"I am the one. I am the all." The being said, in the cadence of a riddle. "I am the Truth, I am God, I am Death-" Harry twitched. "-and I am you."

"You're death?" Harry asked, his eyes sharp.

"Yes. We've met before." Death said gleefully. "I'll ask again though, what have you come here for?"

Harry's hand tightened around his wand. "I came here...took that train, to find my 'next great adventure' as I have been told it is called. I wanted to...you know, move on. Shuffle off this mortal coil."

"You wanted me." The figure said, sounding surprised. "You wanted Death."

Harry gritted his teeth, but nodded. "Yah." He said. "That. I was hoping, actually-"

"Yes?" Death cajoled.

Harry gulped. "I was hoping I would get to see my family again."

There was a silence. Death hummed thoughtfully. "Unlikely." He finally decided. "But possible. I'm afraid this 'next great adventure' is going to be exactly what it sounds like. And you remember what a 'great adventure' your last life was, don't you?"

Harry grimaced.

The truth was malicious. "There is no going back now." It said. "Only forward. But to pass through my gate takes a toll. And you have nothing to pay it with." Death giggled.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Aren't I the Master of Death? Isn't that why it took so long for me to get here? Doesn't that title imply I have some control over you? What good is being the Master of Death if I can't even even tell you to let me pass?!"

"Sorry Master." The being said, sounding sarcastic. "But equivalent exchange is important in this part of the multiverse. You have nothing to trade for passage." The Truth didn't sound very disappointed by this fact.

"I have your wand." Harry countered, eyes blazing. "And your cloak and your stone. Don't you want them back?"

"No, no. I wasn't the one who gave those things to your ancestors." Death chuckled. "And besides, I only deal in flesh."

Harry blushed violently.

"No, wait!" Truth flailed his arms comically. "Not like that! That came out wrong! I don't even have sex organs!"

"Then like what?" Harry demanded, voice higher pitched than normal, fists clenched. "What will it take to open this stupid gate of yours?"

Death settled itself down again, it's smile returning. "Let me explain. I'll tell you how people in this world open the gate to my realm."

...

Have a sporadic day.