It had been two years since Mustang lost his sight. It took so much effort to train him in the ways of Ishbal to restore peace between the two countries; his mind was far from it. He would've rather restored his independence first. Armstrong had to escort him to the facilities, Hawkeye to the barracks, and Jean to the kitchen. It was a pain that he couldn't have privacy simply for the fact that he couldn't do anything by himself anymore. Many people tried to teach him how to do things without sight, but overall it was a fruitless cause.

Mustang sat at his desk, head in his hands as he tried to relax. He had overworked his brain, definitely, in memorization of Ishbal texts and facts. It was all he could do to stave off the incoming headache. He had even tried to remember what certain things looked like, though he found that hard as well. He shifted a few brail pages around, biting his lower lip in frustration as he tried to read them with his hands. His hands had been calloused yet sensitive, from his years of fighting.

"Fuhrer?" Alex Louise Armstrong, promoted to Major General after Roy had become Fuhrer, stood by his desk and held the raven-haired man's shoulder, as if to tell him where he was through touch. "If you need we can take a break…"

Mustang shook his head, being unaware of whether his eyes were open or closed. He decided on open when the light contrast in his eyes changed. "I think I'll be fine. Let's just get it done." He rubbed his temples and shook the taller man's hand off of his arm.

"If you say so." Armstrong cleared his throat, ready to read off another question when Riza Hawkeye, promoted to Colonel, opened the door with a small creak, walking in.

"It's Colonel Hawkeye sir." She identified herself for the other.

Mustang was relieved. He was always worried something would happen to her and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. "What brings you here Colonel?" He found it weird calling someone else a colonel.

"We're having a small issue with our military… there have been several reported cases where our men have been openly stolen from. All sorts of things get taken, badges, pocket watches, currency…"

"This doesn't seem like too big of an issue…" Armstrong crossed his arms over his chest. "Sir, I believe the thief can just be caught, and-"

"We can't catch him. That's the issue. He uses alchemy to get away from us, and it's nothing that I've ever seen before."

"Hmm…" Mustang sat up a bit. "Go on."

"Well, sir, he appears to be using transmutation circles as some sort of teleportation, by creating the circles and them jumping into them. The circles disappear right away, so I would assume they are very unstable. But it is disturbing, to say the least." Riza cleared her throat. "The things this thief takes seem to be small, but have a lot of worth. It worries a lot of our staff are watching themselves extra carefully. And the ones who have been stolen from have been interviewed, and claim they didn't even realize that anything was missing, or anyone was trying to take anything."

Mustang sat back and tried to comprehend it. Transmutation circles to escape? The way she described it, it sounded so foreign.

"Get the Elrics. I know they'll be able to catch the thief."

Hawkeye bowed slightly. "Of course sir." Then she turned to leave.

"The Elrics sir?" Armstrong folded his hands like the gentleman he was. "They gave up using alchemy all together, didn't they?"

"Perhaps they did, but they never retired from working for us. They still have to do what I tell them to." Mustang looked in the direction he thought Alex was standing, and, judging by the snorts of the other male trying not to laugh, he assumed he was looking in the opposite direction.

"Of course sir." And with that, Mustang was back to work.