Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and the majority of characters described herein are property of Hiromu Arakawa. Luther Svenhurst and other OC's belong to me. Hitler and the other Nazi's belonged to themselves, I suppose.

Alright, ladies and gentlemen, I've been planning this fanfic out for several years. I'm finally putting it down, hope you enjoy! I'm sorry if there are any inaccuracies in this chapter- I'm much of an expert on World War II.

Also, yes, Luther Svenhurst is the Ringmaster that looks like Frank Archer from CoS. This chapter takes place before the Nazi's rose to power in Germany, when they were still hailed as just another political party.


November 6th, 1923

South Germany

Headquarters of the Nazi Party

Two Days before the planned Invasion of Shamballa and the Beer Hall Putsch

Luther Svenhurst considered himself a very lucky man.

In the past three years, he had risen higher than he had ever dreamed he could. Three years ago, he had been the head of a small, failing carnival, deep in debt, chased by loan sharks. Many a night had gone by where he contemplated fetching a rope from the supplies and making a noose.

Then one day, the woman who had changed his life entered his office.

Dietlinde Eckhart had asked him what he knew of the occult. In that instant, Luther Svenhurst had sensed a kindred spirit in Eckhart. Like her, he held a deep fascination with the occult; psychic powers, premonitions, the Ark of the Covenant- Luther Svenhurst lived and breathed for them.

On that day, Eckhart had offered membership in their political party, a small group known as the Nazi Socialist German Workers Party. She took Luther Svenhurst to their headquarters, and introduced him to their leader. This man, Adolf Hitler, had left his desk and shook Luther Svenhurst's hand.

The Nazi Doctrine fascinated Luther Svenhurst. He had at first used them as a quick tool- the Nazi Party may have been small, but they were wealthy. The second he had signed on to the party, his debts had disappeared. The loan sharks stopped coming. However, this man Hitler's idea of a supreme race soon drew him in.

As the weeks turned into months, and months into years, Luther Svenhurst found himself growing deeper into the Nazi Party. Dietlinde Eckhart herself took him under her wing. She taught him everything she knew of the occult. Luther Svenhurst had found himself quite surprised- before he met Eckhart, he had considered himself an expert of the occult. Eckhart introduced to a world that made his previous knowledge look quite novice.

He learned of Shamballa, the land beyond lands. Eckhart spoke of it in such an enraptured voice that Luther Svenhurst soon joined her enthusiasm. He was inducted into the Thule Society in a candlelit ceremony, on a quiet night last year.

Then one day, the bearded man had arrived. He claimed that he himself had come from the land of Shamballa, and was seeking passage back. He called himself Hohenheim. He taught Eckhart more secrets of Shamballa, and in turn, she taught them to Luther Svenhurst.

Luther Svenhurst was in an ecstasy of knowledge. He ran his carnival, but only as a side job. What use was there for carnivals when there was the Party? All he needed in his life were two individuals.

The Fuhrer, and the Teacher.

Hitler and Eckhart.

Not even the escape of the gypsy girl could ruin his mood. Lieutenant Hess was finding her as he sat here, almost eagerly waiting for tomorrow. Tomorrow, the Fuhrer would march on the beer hall, and rally the militia to march. Within 48 hours, the Party would have the necessary technology from the gate to Shamballa, and would seize power in Germany.

Luther Svenhurst was interrupted from his musings by a knock on the door. He slid his chair back and left his desk.

It was Karl Haushofer, another influential party member. "Luther. The Fuhrer wishes to see you. Personally."


The party member led Luther Svenhurst through the Nazi's Headquarters. Svenhurst was an expert at keeping his face unchanged by emotion; however, he could not cease the butterflies in his stomach. The Fuhrer wanted to see him! The man that was, to Eckhart, possibly the closest thing to a God, was asking for him!

Why would the Fuhrer ask for him? Had something happened to Master Eckhart? Was he being promoted? Fired? Killed?

The party member halted outside of the Fuhrer's door, and indifferently waved him inside. He stalked off, leaving Luther Svenhurst standing outside the Fuhrer's door in his tuxedo. Luther Svenhurst pushed the door open slowly.

The office was cramped and small, and was hot during the summer. Though the room had electric lightbulbs, a single lamp lit the dim room. The lamp rested on the desk that sat in the middle of the room. Behind this desk sat the man that Luther Svenhurst had met only once, and worshiped as a God.

The Fuhrer rose from his desk. He motioned Luther Svenhurst forward. Luther Svenhurst sat in the single chair in front of the Fuhrer's desk. The springs creaked horribly whenever you moved, and tended to grate on the nerves after a while.

Without speaking a word, the Fuhrer produced a bottle of Cognac from under his desk, and two glasses. He poured Luther Svenhurst a glass, and kept the other for himself. The Fuhrer wordlessly walked to the single window, and stared into the inky night.

"You are Luther Svenhurst, are you not?"

Luther Svenhurst nodded.

"How long have you been with the party?"

"About three years, Fuhrer, sir."

The Fuhrer sighed. "Three years. Gott en Himmel, that's a lifetime." He took a sip from his glass. "Do you know what happens tomorrow, Svenhurst?"

"Of course, Fuhrer, sir. The Party has planned this for months. Tomorrow, Master Eckhart will use the rocket technology to enter Shamballa and gather the weapons there. We will then use those weapons to march upon the Capital."

"Eckhart has taught you well." The Fuhrer drained his glass in a single gulp. He then turned and asked Luther Svenhurst a question he would never forget.

"Would you do anything for the Party? Could you betray the one you hold dearest to you?"

"I don't follow, Fuhrer, sir."

The Fuhrer set his glass back on his desk. "Eckhart is a fool. A Dinosaur of the days where cavemen smashed their clubs against anything in their path. She will never follow tomorrow's plan.

"I have spoken with Eckhart many times. She fears Shamballa, more than anything else. There isn't a single doubt in my mind that she will not follow the plan. She may likely pretend to, and attempt to destroy Shamballa on her own. The puts me in a predicament, young Svenhurst.

"I could fire Eckhart, or even have her killed. However, it is likely that at least half of the party would resign in her wake. Most of the party are members of the Thule Society, and completely loyal to Eckhart. I could also call off the invasion. This, however, would cause me to lose face with the party members, who would view me as a coward. You can see the paradox of the situation, my young friend."

Luther Svenhurst could feel the tiny tugs of realization at the edges of his brain.

The Fuhrer continued. "The invasion will go as planned. Eckhart shall go on what I fully expect to be a suicide mission. I will lead our men to march as planned. You, however, shall go to Shamballa with the Invasion Team. You will not tell anyone of this, least of all Eckhart. Once there, leave the group. You will create another Nazi Party on the other side. Work as I work. See as I see. It may take many years. When your army has been amassed, reopen the Gate. It should be far easier from that side. When the Gate is reopened, lead your forces back to our side. The party will have at least doubled in size. It may take several years, but I believe it can be done.

"So I ask of you one more time: can you commit yourself to this plan? Can you betray the woman who has taught you everything, for the sake of the Party?"

Luther Svenhurst thought long and hard about what he would say to this. Eckhart trusted him. She confided in him. Luther Svenhurst loved Dietlinde Eckhart as his own mother.

But if Eckhart was his mother, then the Party was his Father.

Luther Svenhurst bowed his head towards the Fuhrer. Four words escaped his lips.

"My Life For You."

He felt the Fuhrer's reassuring palm on his head.

"Good Man."


That's all for now. Updates to follow!