Be one with Russia

Be one with Russia. Ivan would often say that to the countries, but they never thought much about it. Even when Toris, Eduard and Raivis gained their freedom he often came to the trio, telling them to return and be one with him. Most countries just shrug it aside and never pay any attention to what Ivan was talking about; they flat out refuse to be controlled by Ivan. This wouldn't do it. No longer will Ivan give them in a choice in the matter. Too long he has "asked" them to become one with him and they refuse. Everyone will have no choice, but to be one with Russia.

All across the countries people have been getting deadly sick and as a result to this illness, the nations have become weaker due to their population dropping dramatically. There were few nations that didn't get this strange illness. Ivan was using chemical warfare and he'd continue until the countries agreed to give him what he wanted. Ivan didn't wait for all countries to feel the effects. He went around telling everyone right away what he'd done and the only thing to do to stop it would be to join him and make their land Russian land.

Feliciano, with his white flag, was the first to surrender to Ivan. Ludwig was struck too hard by the chemical warfare, and he wasn't able to keep the Italian from surrendering. The German was hit hard for a reason, Ivan knew that Feliciano would give up if Ludwig wasn't there to stop him and that's just what happened. Ludwig has been struggling with his life ever since the hit, he's very close to death since his population is down to only 400 people now. Gilbert has been extremely worried about his brother, refusing to leave his side. Since Gilbert doesn't have a Nation anymore, he hasn't been harmed from the blast. Lovino had no choice, but to give up as well since his brother already did.

Kiku was nearly killed from the powerful blast that hit Tokyo and if it wasn't for Alfred stepping in right away, he probably wouldn't have made it. Kiku's population was cut in half. Yao wasn't struck at all and some believe that it's because Ivan believes he'll join Russia on his own. With Yao not affected by it, he was quick to go to Kiku's side.

Arthur was only beginning to feel the effects. The population of England had yet to drop, but more people were dying each day.

Alfred was struck the hardest of all the nations due to his strength. Although the blast killed most of his people, he was able to pull through. He refused to give his land to Ivan and would continue to do so. Ivan knew that Alfred would be difficult, but that's why he has more focus on the American than any other Nation.

Francis wasn't as strong and although the blast was minor, he still was suffering from it.

Young Peter was also among the injured and his blast was the smallest out of the other Nations. Ivan didn't hit him hard enough to kill him, he wanted his Nation just like he wants everyone else's. Sadly though, the blast wasn't as weak as Ivan wanted. Peter was clinging to life, his Nation half gone.

What about Matthew?

The country that everyone seems to forget about?

Well, Ivan didn't forget about him this time and he planned to use him to an advantage. Matthew was forced from his home without Alfred knowing and put through torture after torture until finally, he gave up his land to the Russian.

As for Ivan's sisters, Natalya and Katyusha, he didn't attack their country just as he avoided attacking Yao's. It was a little difficult to get Katyusha to join him again, but she soon caved and joined the Russian Federation.

Everyone else was suffering in some way and Ivan was using all weaknesses to his advantage. He plans to take over the world in three months or less.

Since Feliciano surrendered right away, he was only hit with a minor dose and not the full on attack like the others. He was quickly recovering. Shortly after Feliciano surrendered the three Baltic's had to as well. Toris was hit the hardest out of the two, nearly losing his life in the process. If it wasn't for the fact he surrendered the next day, he might not be here. Eduard was hit the second worse and Raivis was only given a minor attack. All of them rejoined with Russia without a day apart from each other. They weren't the only one's though, Peter joined as well. He was dying and there was nothing that Arthur could do for him. As painful as it was for Arthur to let him surrender, he had no choice. It was either have Peter surrender or lose him. Arthur made a promise to him that everything was going to be okay. Although he's trying to heal, he's close to death. Matthew was the newest member to join. He's not only bruised and sore, but close to death just like Peter and Toris.

The year is 3000.

This is WW Russia.

Russia against the world.

Chapter 1

When the tears fall away
And there's no conversation
There's nothing left to break
That's not already broken
You're staring into space
And every inch of silence
Been standing here for days, and days

-Said it All, Take That

Date: December 21st, 3000
Time: 2:30PM
Location: Berlin, Germany, Ludwig's house

Crimson eyes were locked unblinkingly on the grey, withered remains of the field just beyond the window they gazed out of. A pale hand pressed lightly against the glass just under the small misshapen circle of fog that shrunk and grew with each breath Gilbert took. The purple lines under his eyes were easily visible against his pale skin, making it obvious that he hadn't slept all night. His lips were drawn in a thin frown, and the only movement from his figure was the faint rise and fall of his chest. He simply couldn't bring himself to turn around, to cast his gaze upon the king-sized bed, the sheets stained in ugly, red blotches, to the cold, motionless figure that was mostly hidden underneath them. It was at times like this that he barely felt like the older brother, much the opposite, in fact.

"Gilbert..."

Prussia winced. It wasn't often that he heard that tone, much less from Ludwig, of all people. His voice had been reduced to some form of low rasp that was probably as painful to create as it was to hear. Then again, he'd never known his brother to be bedridden, as he was. Forcing a smile that turned out more like a grimace, he glanced over his shoulder, finally allowing himself to blink, and immediately regretted it. He could close his eyes and see his brother as he wanted him to be. His blonde hair, slicked back, without as much as a strand out of place would be there. As would his crisp, newly laundered uniform, and the healthy glow of his naturally pale skin. Behind his eyelids, the real Ludwig would be there, so three-dimensional and realistic that he could almost convince himself that it was he who stood before him, rather than the shell of his brother who was lying in bed, virtually helpless.

With his eyes open, Germany was different. Altered. The West who was propped up in bed had skin that was a blotched patchwork of grey, white and yellow. His face was slightly hollowed out, as far as he could see, and he dared not look into those steel blue eyes.

"Hey, West," The grin widened slightly, but was still obviously forced. "You hungry? I can go get some wurst? And beer, want a six-pack of Pilsner? Kesesesesese! Of course you do! I'll go get it." Whatever he was saying wasn't even processing; it probably didn't even make any sense. Moat uncharacteristic, though to be honest, most of what he did at the moment was uncharacteristic. He was used to solving problems with action and there he was, staring at someone who was probably in pain, knowing that he couldn't do a damn about it. He was absolutely helpless, and Prussia didn't 'do' helpless very well.

"I don't want-"

Already knowing what the response would be, Gilbert didn't even bother to listen, interrupting Ludwig mid-sentence for the hundredth time that day. "Come on! The wurst is especially awesome, and you've gotta eat something! What's wrong with you?" As soon as he'd asked it, he realised that what he'd said sounded wrong. Harsh. Unfeeling, even. He was still struggling to understand how someone who was only a few years younger than himself, who went to the gym, who ate relatively healthily, who had never smoked...well not excessively, who drank as much as he did had woken up one day to find there was a clock ticking over his head; discovered he was one step closer to knowing when he'd meet his maker than he was. He'd been wrestling with this thought since he'd first found him in this state. Despite the obvious fact that Ludwig was virtually at death's door, Gilbert downright refused to accept that he'd just die and leave him to fend for himself.

Sighing, Prussia turned to face his brother fully, his grin faltering slightly. For once, he found himself unwilling to add another snappy response, or annoying (bordering on offensive) comment. Why Ludwig's current appearance surprised him every time he cast his gaze upon him was unknown to him. He would have thought that he was used to it by now,

Lapsing into an unusual silence, he just stood there and looked at him, an unfathomable expression plastered across his features, the grin abandoned completely. There wasn't really much to say, and there was no way that he was leaving the room, as the previous time he'd returned to find Ludwig attempting to do something or another, out of bed. He'd spent the next few minutes heaving and shivering, eventually coughing up a fair amount of his own blood, which, frankly, had completely terrified him.

Not that he'd admit it.

Seeing his brother in such a state on a regular basis was enough to keep him from the virtue that was taken with little appreciation by so many; a sweet, uninterrupted sleep that wasn't haunted by the image of your only relative's cold, motionless corpse mangled and twisted into a grotesque form lying in a heap at the foot of a flight of stone stairs, leading down into the overwhelming darkness, cold chains rattling ominously in the corner, the fear that lingered amid the horrors, the memories of a thousand tortures lingering in the mind, threatening to take you, to force you to succumb to the madness that hung like a contagious disease...

Gilbert bolted upright from his uncomfortable position on the makeshift bed, his body soaked with sweat, clutching the sheets with rigid, tense hands, so hard that his knuckles were as white as his hair as though it were the only thing keeping him from the fine threads of reality. For mere second he sat, mostly unmoving, his breathing panicked, coming in sharp wheezes, blood red eyes stinging as though he'd just been punched. It was a dream. A dream. The fact that it had seemed so real was irrelevant; it wouldn't happen in reality, it couldn't. And reality was everything. There was no point in living in the past, although at the same time he could never forget such horrors. If he were to glance up at the bed, ignoring the bloodstains, he'd catch a glimpse of the ghost-like features of his brother, barely but still clinging to what little life he had left, breathing in a harsh, unnatural manner that he could no nothing to prevent. No matter what else in the world changed, Ludwig would always be there, despite the odds. This had been true for so long that it terrified Gilbert to think of a world in which it wasn't. Without his brother.

With little or no hesitation, Gilbert shot up off the floor, looming over Ludwig like a shadow, crimson eyes wide with terror, mostly hidden by the filthy platinum mop that had become his hair. The terror that still continued to well up inside him, almost to bursting point, was too much for him to bear at that moment as he stared intently, expectantly, at the hollowed out, pale face as though willing desperately for it to show a sign of life. He had to prove to himself that Ludwig had not been unfairly taken from him as he slept, over the past couple of hours. It had been the first time he'd slept in days, possibly weeks, for so long and for the few seconds of tension that seemed to last a lifetime, Gilbert seriously regretted caving in to his brother's wish to allow himself to sleep.

He would be alive.

Unable to stand the unbearable tension for much longer, Gilbert resisted the urge to lightly poke the hopefully slumbering figure, in fear that the slight nudge would send him into the cold, beckoning clutches of Death. As soon as he thought it, Gilbert knew that he was being stupid, childish even. As Ludwig would have said, it wasn't logically possible for such an event to occur, it just wouldn't happen. Still, Gilbert felt the need to ensure that Ludwig hadn't left him. Despite his strength, he knew that his brother was the only reason that he had a home, despite the fact that he constantly stated to anybody who'd listen that Ludwig "lived in his upstairs," rather than himself living in the basement of his younger brother's house.

"Mhmmm?" Ludwig rolled laboriously onto his side in his slumber as though it took half of his energy just to do so, all the while his brother held his breath in terrified anticipation as Ludwig slumped back into his original position, face contorted in pain, barely noting the fact that his brother was virtually leaning over him.

(OK! That's Chapter 1 of my first ever fanfic done by mee! Hope you liked, and plese rate and review! You're opinion means a lot to us! :D

I'll update it once a week, or more if I have time, and the first few chapters will be about each character, to set the mood! I have this whole thing planned out, and...

..AWESOME!)