It flew faster than any eye could ever blink. Passing the intended target, it sunk into someone so very dear.
The bullet pierced straight through Lovino. His eyes fluttered a bit before shading duller and becoming wide. They flickered to look at his brother, but soon went into a lifeless state.
As his blood collected in the grass, Feliciano's eyes soaked. The pain of realization stung dreadfully, and his guilt weighed his heart to the now dirtied garden.
His hand denied the gun anymore time in his hand and he lobbed it to the dirt. Antonio, who stared in horror as the scene unraveled before him, dropped within a heartbeat to the southern Italian's side.
He clasped his cheeks, and shook him lightly.
"It's okay? Right Lovi, you're alright~?" The Spaniard asked, yet he knew a dead heart couldn't reach him. Sadness and loneliness tore at him with shark bites.
"Fratello wake up, I'm so sorry!"
With a greatly sparked flash, Lovino glowed silver and gold. His body slowly faded within all the glamorous beauty.
Spain and Italy stepped back confused.
"Is this what the death of a nation supposed to look like", wondered Spain.
" It's beautiful" whispered Italy.
They held a peaceful atmosphere till the sparkles vanished. As they disappeared , a rebellious group of tears fought through. Both countries mourned until they got puffy in the face.
When a nation has died and all is over, you mush hold a night of vigilance. Respect their lost and mourn for them when others will not.
Italy Romano is now declared dead.
Southern Republic of Italia.