(A/N:I am gonna be writing future chapters so they may not follow the plotline of this completely, but ah well! Please anjoy, and review!

Explination of apology:"ContemplatingDisaster", a friend of mine, is the sister to "KamikazeExplosion" and forced her to write the apology. I like the story, and so I decided to continue it so it would not be so short and boring.)

Revenge is Sweet.

Oh she was insane.

Her mind had broken years ago before her life had officially begun; when she had become the Lithuanian Empire. She had floated around soullessly; like all nations do before they become countries. She watched people fight for their country, a sense of nationalism, she assumed.

Liudvika was a funny child.

All nations were once human. She did not remember her human past life other than the fact that it was bitter and had ended young. She had only been a child when her human life had ended.

The man named Lithuania had needed her help. He like many nations before him had cracked under the pressure of being a nation, the fact that thousands depended on him for the safety of their lives' and their children, and coupled with the years of emotional abuse and physical torture that he and two others (and many other countries that had fallen under Soviet rule during the era of the Cold War which the governmental dispute between the World Power – who was a bumbling moron – called the united States of America and the United Soviet Socialist Republic had blissfully ignored each other for nearly fifty years) had suffered at the hands of Russia.

She liked Russia.

She knew where he was coming from.

Oh yes, she put of the disguise of apparently hating the winter nation for the sake of Lithuania. Liudvika could feel where he was coming from. He exuded an aura of sadness despite his smiling exterior. He battled darkness inside.

Though she did give him his props.

She liked to people-watch; watch how people worked and how people reacted to certain things. While on her excursion of Lithuania's home, she had spotted the man undressing. Her eyes had seen what his shirt had always covered. The physical proof that Toris had been under Soviet rule.

The scars.

Twisting across his back in half-crescent shapes, overlapping each other like waves meeting the beach, the skin an eerie purple and unhealed; they looked like the result of a forceful whipping. Some places were lighter meaning the whip had been closer, some were darker; looking like someone had whipped him several times in the same spot while standing far away.

Some rumored that marks given to a country by another country stayed forever.

Each nation had scars from their battles over the years. It was sign of the hardship they had dealt with. The Allies each had a crescent shaped mark on the skin that covered their hearts – each scar identical in shape and size. It was sign of their military alliance against the enemy, who were the Axis Powers at the time-being.

In someway, L.E. (oh how she despised that nickname) could not understand Toris's reason for extirpating Russia from the world. Sure, he had tortured Toris until the fine line that was the Baltic state's sanity had gradually over time begun to wear until it snapped. But had Russia not tortured others? Not only the Baltic States had been Russia's play toys, but the fallen nation Prussia had too been a victim of Russia's rule. And the country of Hungary (who was seemingly obsessed with what she called 'yaoi') had also been under the rule of Russia. Finland, Poland, Estonia, Latvia and many more had fallen under Russian rule.

This whole event was rather soporific to her, but she had a feeling that coiled in the bottom of her gut that this would in fact turn out to be rather intriguing. When it came to it, she would pull out. This was Toris's war that he needed to fight alone. Whether or not if he fell and brought the whole world down, L.E was only staying in the war for her own amusement.

She was bored.
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"Damn! It's been a long time since I've been here!"

The happy voice of America had cut through the thick silence that had draped over the conference room.

"Da~" Russia said and all eyes landed on the Russian nation. He ran a finger over the table; a fine layer of dust sticking to his fingers in the process. "Last time I was in here I was a commie, da~?"

England coughed; his heavy eyebrows tilting downward and a frown settling on his lips. "This is not the time to be fooling around."

"That's right, aru," China said, looking at Russia.

England sat down in the seat he had claimed as his all those decades ago; when the threat of World War II was heavy and everyone was affected by the World War. He coughed again into his fist. All the eyes of the former Allies were rested on him.

"We are gathered here today–" The Briton's sonorous speech was cut off by a rather moronic World Power exclaiming:

"Damn! The piece of gum I stuck under the table has been here the whole time!"

The American's oblivious attempt to extenuate the atmosphere had worked. The Allies slowly relaxed. All eyes returned back to England.

"We are gathered here to day to reinstate the treaty between the United States of America, the Russian Federation, the People's Republic of China, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and North Ireland, and the French Republic. Military disputes between the Russian Federation and nation who calls herself the "Lithuanian Empire" have been occurring recently."

"The sudden amount of tension between you two is not good, aru," China informed gravely; looking pointedly. "My boss was not happy with the loud gunfire, aru."

"Which is why," England said, "I declare," He seemed to hesitate, "that we reform the Allies."

Dead silence. Did they wish to bring back the old times of fighting side by side and bringing their countries into this mess? They had all made a silent pact with other though. Even though the Cold War had happened, the pact had not been breached. When one of the Allies was in troubles, the others would retaliate. It was a golden rule.

As if on cue, America put his hand in the middle of the table.

"I want to fight." America said proudly. "Even though Ivan and I have had our disputes and there is the fact that he's a fatass knowitall ("Bigboned."), I am not one to break my promises. We promised to fight for one another and fight is what we shall do."

The words sunk in. The leather-gloved appendage that was America's hand was soon joined both by the gloved hands of both France and Russia. England put his own hand in he middle and with some hesitation, China put his hand in.

War had been declared and the allies had been reborn once more.