Fullmetal Alchemist: Volume 24

by Hiromu Arakawa, 181 pages

When brothers Edward and Alphonse Elric lose their mother, the grieving young boys throw themselves into their long-absent father's alchemical research to find a way to bring her back. But alchemy's greatest law is "equivalent exchange"--in order to create something, you have to give something of equal value. And although the boys gather all the carefully measured ingredients that comprise a human body, they forget one important thing--it's not just their mother's body they're trying to bring back, but her soul. What they see inside their crackling transmutation circle is not their mother, and the cost of the failed exchange is greater than either of them could have imagined. As they commit themselves to searching for a way to undo their mistake, the boys learn that the laws of man and nature may not be so hard and fast as they believed. Men, countries, and alchemy all have their own secrets. And their own father may have more than anyone.

Years later, Ed and Al--along with everyone else we've grown to know and love and fear--are in the midst of the fight of their lives. The entire country of Amestris, as well as its neighbors, is in danger of annihilation at the hands of a puppet regime, but it's the one pulling all the strings who must be vanquished. The pieces are at last all on the board and the end game is in full swing.

FMA is the standard for quality dramatic action series. Arakawa has had this original, intricate, involving story planned out from the beginning (that would be 2001 for the Japanese debut, and 2005 for the first English volume), and not a word or action is irrelevant to the slowly-revealed big picture, especially as the series progresses. The world-building is both monumental and subtle, as she lets you gradually figure out how it all goes together by watching the characters live in it. And those intriguing, flawed, loveable characters ("good" and "bad" alike) are just as unique and well-fashioned as they depend on and annoy and undermine one another. The art is distinctive, clean, and tight, with a perfect balance of white and black space and appropriate use of screentones (with which some artists tend to go a little crazy). As the boys and others grow over the course of the series, Arakawa surreptitiously adds maturity to their bearing and centimeters to Ed's frame (Al, for reasons you will understand if you read it, doesn't so much do the visibly growing thing). The dialogue is sharp and the panels make me cackle hysterically, whimper in sympathy, or hang off the edge of my seat in fear or excitement or shock. By this volume, the you-know-what has hit the fan and I'm eagerly awaiting June, when I'll be able to lock myself in and inhale volume 25 (multiple times) and greedily add it to my bookshelf. I just have to be careful to avoid spoilers in the meantime. :)

This series has also been adapted into an animé--twice. Both versions are awesome (though I haven't yet watched the conclusion of the reboot, because I want to read it in the books first!).