Truth sighed, "You have beaten me, Mr. Al-che-mist. However, this is something I cannot do."

"What do you mean, you can't accept my gate?!" Edward was mad. He had offered up his alchemy, and it was turned down. "You said I beat you, so why can't I take Alphonse back?" He wanted to attack Truth, that damn bastard, but he couldn't attack a being without a physical form. Edward settled on glaring ferociously.

"Well, you see, there is another world," Ed was ready to interject, there weren't any other worlds! " yes, I said world, that needs your help. I have been, particularly lenient on their laws, and they are using it against me, you could say."

"How?" Edward snorts, wondering what the people of this 'world' had been doing.

"An evil person has risen in great power, and is trying to overthrow the balance. He goes by the name Voldemort, but is really named Tom Riddle. I need you to disperse the negative energy caused from this overuse of magic by using alchemy, and help the boy destined to overthrow Voldemort-"

"...magic doesn't exist! And you want me to help someone destined to overthrow this guy? And what does this give me?" Edward was getting mad now. Truth was telling him to save another world, with magic no less, and gave him no reason to.

"Since this will be difficult, I will give you back Alphonse...and to make it even more tempting, how about your teacher's organs and commanding officer's sight?"

"Fine, but tell me more first, and don't be cryptic," Ed said this, his glare easing at the thought of everyone returned what they had lost.

Truth's grin widened, "You must serve as a inspiration to the boy-who-lived. Something will be taken from you as payment for going through The Gate, as well as transportation between worlds. They will not harbor you from completing your mission. Once it has been completed, you will return to this world, and earn back one of the things lost." Truth paused, thinking. "The Gate will be sure to provide any other information."

"Wait! Can I tell Alphonse where I'm going?" Edward had a hard time gripping what was going on, but didn't want to be deemed 'missing' for his time away.

"Sorry, no." The grin on Truth's face showed that he wasn't really sorry.

"Why not, you-"

"You must go now, goodbye, Mr. Al-che-mist." The Gate behind Edward opened, and black hands pulled him back into The Gate.

Professor McGonagall sighed in relief, glad that the students had finally left, she was ready to take her own vacation. She was on her way off the grounds to apparate to her house, when she saw it. There was what appeared to be a student, who was holding onto the window sill to one of the classrooms, covered in blood. The only reason he wasn't dead yet was his muscled, bleeding, left arm was holding onto the sill. Professor McGonagall dropped her things, pulling out her wand, speaking a spell to levitate him down. He was wearing the strangest clothes; a red cloak, a dark blue tank top underneath, leather pants, and thick combat boots. She had never seen this boy, his distinctly braided golden hair would set him apart. The Professor hurried to take the boy to the hospital wing, as he was still bleeding and rather pale.

When Edward woke up, he kept his eyes closed. He heard many voices, all talking in hushed tones. Truth had crammed just about everything he could into Ed 's head. Edward now knew multiple languages, as well as multiple people and their pasts. Truth had even told him who to trust and not trust. The information also consisted of how the magical world worked, and how people performed magic, but not how he should. It was frustrating.

"How do we know he's not a Death Eater?" A rough voice asked. The new information told Edward that this man would gain his trust, and he would have to be careful. Ed growled at the comment, he was certainly NOT a Death Eater.

"Does he have a dark mark? No! He's much too young anyways, Alastor," A woman, who sounded much like a mother, argued. Edward groans, trying to get their attention.

"Well, it seems he's waking up," another voice sounds, this time, Edward knows it is somebody trustworthy named Lupin, who happens to be a werewolf. Edward blinked open his eyes, seeing a plump red-haired woman standing over him. Someone had taken his cloak off, and he realized that his arm shouldn't be a problem anymore. He props himself up on his right arm, but doesn't feel anything. His automail arm was back. That was the first toll, so what was the second?

"Be careful now dear, you still need to rest," the woman told him. He tried to tell her he was fine, but no sound came out. Ed tried to say something again, but, once more, he doesn't make a sound. "What's the matter, dear?" He goes to say 'I can't say anything' in Amestrian, instead of English, one of the new languages. His hands fly to his throat, horrified. Truth took his voice. What was he supposed to do?