Warnings: This fic will have blood, gore, yaoi, character death.
Hetalia does not belong to me.
Chapter One.
He ran through the smoke and ash. His lungs burning from the sting of the smoky air, but he ran all the same. He ran as if his life depended on it. Tears burning in his eyes, threatening to fall and his every muscle was sore and aching. But he couldn't stop. He couldn't slow down.
"Alfred!" He screamed through the smoke for the hundredth time. His voice hurt, it sounded hoarse from all the smoke he had breathed in. Oh god… oh god…. Was he dead? Washington was still standing so he couldn't die. As long as the capital stood they would keep on living. They could die momentarily in body. They eventually recover. But to think of him dying… Had Alfred experienced a death yet? Maybe in Vietnam, but he didn't think so. "Alfred!"
The Englishman couldn't run through this smoke anymore, he'd end up passing out. He stopped placing his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, but all he received was more smoke and ash in his lungs. And he really shouldn't be here. His boss would kill him if he passed out here, or ended up dying, even if it was only for a few days. He wasn't even supposed to be here. What if something happened in London? But how could he not be here?
The sun was just starting to creep up into the sky, when Arthur suddenly bolted awake. He struggled to breath, trying to catch his breath. His fingers were clutching the sheets. His body in a cold sweat. The echoes of screams ringing through his head.
He at last was able to calm down enough. He took a deep slow shuddering breath, and ran a hand through messy blonde hair. Trying to calm his racing heart by taking more deep calming breaths.
Something was wrong, but he couldn't place it. He threw the covers off of him, and went to look out his bedroom window. The sky still dark, but slowly becoming a pale blue. Pinks and oranges starting to show.
It was very pretty but he found he couldn't appreciate the early morning light as he usually did. Maybe it was nothing, but he couldn't help this unease that was settling within him. He pushed his worries away as best he could. It was probably nothing. It had to be nothing. It was most likely nothing…
Arthur slowly made his way back to his bed, sliding back onto the comfy surface and pulling the warm covers back over him.
It was nothing, he reminded himself. Nothing at all…
He laid back resting his head back on his pillow pulling the blankets over his head so that the sunlight that was slowly starting appear wouldn't ruin his last hour of two of sleep.
Emerald eyes slowly shut. It was nothing. It was nothing. It was nothing.
God save the Queen rang through the bedroom. Arthur pulled down his blanket, a bit so one emerald colored eye could look at his phone lighting up, vibrating and singing and playing the song. He swallowed. That was his boss' ringtone. What had happened? The Englishman sat up slowly, looking at the phone warily. He felt fine. Had something happened to someone else then?
The frog? He found he wasn't worried. While the two countries had finally come to terms Arthur found he still didn't care for the pervert. But, he was willing to try and get along. But if anything happened to Francis he found he couldn't care to much.
His next thoughts went to Alfred.
Alfred… memories went to that one day. It had been noon, and he had just sat down for lunch when his phone rang and the solemn voice of his boss was on the other end saying something had happened to America. An attack. Planes. Arthur found he couldn't believe what he was hearing until he saw the footage himself.
He had gone to America the next day, that was the soonest he was allowed into the country, and he ran. Ran to the idiot with his wounded shoulder trying to find people under the wreckage of the collapsed buildings. Tears streaming down his face in turmoil and pain.
From that day onward, it seemed things had only gone down hill from there for the American. Wars. Debts. Chaos. And Arthur found whenever he heard his phone ring at some ungodly hour he worried for that blonde, with those bright blue eyes and goofy smile. His little charge. His once brother. An idiot he loved unconditionally. Though it was never spoken out loud. He loved Alfred. And Alfred loved him. It was a mutual understanding of love and affection. But it could never be more then that.
I love you.
And you love me.
I'll be here for you always.
And you'll be here for me.
Anything else cannot be allowed. It will hurt more if we unite and are broken apart by forces beyond our control.
Forever is truly forever with beings like us.
The feelings and actions of people change as easily as this world changes.
And should the time come when I must raise a weapon against you.
Know that is not my will.
But powers greater then I are forcing me to pull the trigger.
Know that I love you still.
And always will.
If our countries unite and split and unite again, please know that I will always love you.
The American wrote him that. He had the sheet of paper folded carefully and safe in his wallet. It was given to him a few days after the first World War. Arthur was grateful beyond words about the American's assistance.
He didn't want to say it out loud, but if Alfred hadn't come, however reluctantly, the war wouldn't have ended in their favor. It had been thanks to Alfred that he wasn't in Germany's hands. There had been so much tension. After the Revolutionary war of course. He had cursed Alfred's name and people. His heart burning with abandonment and loss. Betrayal and hurt. But he had done his fair share and stuck a knife into Alfred's back, many years later. A betrayal he never thought the American would forgive him for. When he aided the South during the American's Civil War. Because it would have been more profitable for him, trade wise. Or so he assumed. Never mind the American was screaming in agony somewhere in the north as his countrymen ripped themselves apart.
For someone who knew the pain of Civil Wars well, he still hadn't forgiven himself for what he had done. Even though Alfred had long ago.
Arthur looked at the American, who looked worn and tired. Dirty and sore but victorious. Alfred grinned at Arthur with his goofy smile. Gave him that cheesy thumbs up. "We did it. It's over."
Yes. Yes it was. And then everything spilled from the Englishman's mouth. Every confession and apology, every bit of gratitude and respect and thankfulness. Not to mention tears. And he just rambled on wondering if anything was understandable anymore.
Alfred blinked at him with confused blue eyes for a moment before smiling, and pulled Arthur into a hug. "I understand."
Arthur clutched to the American's uniform. God. He was tired. Body and spirit. Thank the heavens that this horrible war was over. He and America could work on their shaky relationship and improve it. And as much as it still hurt him to this day, he had to let the past be the past.
Alfred pulled away to soon for his liking. "Please know Arthur, I've always loved you. And not as a little brother loves a big brother. Never quite like that. It's always been more then that. And I'm glad things happened the way they did so you don't see me that way anymore. Even if it required you hating me for a little bit. But I want to be something far more special then a little brother to you. And however you feel about me now, or a hundred years from now please know that my feelings will never change for you. It's hard. I know… there is a terrible distance between us. It hurts how big that ocean is. How far away from each other we are…Some kind of eventual relationship would be hard, if not impossible. So…"
Alfred walked up to the desk, grabbing a blank sheet of paper and a pen and began writing. "Anything could happen, ya know? What if one of these wars happen again and we're not on the same side? Am I just supposed to hate you? Let down my country and let you go to kill my prople?"
"No… of course not, Alfred." Arthur watched the American carefully as he wrote.
Alfred looked up satisfied with what was written and handed it to the Englishman. "Right! Of course not! But hey! I gotta take care of some stuff, I'll talk to you more later. We still got some cleanin up to do with those Germans, hahaha!" And with that Alfred ran out of the tent.
Arthur watched him go, looking down at the sheet he was given almost bursting into tears again as he read it. Trying his hardest not to start balling. He didn't want to stain the paper and ruin the words on them with his tears.
From that point onward they had what they claimed a "special relationship" And it was. It was damn special. It was nothing sexual. Only affectionate. They each cared and loved the other. And that alone was enough. Though France claimed they needed more "action" or they'd go crazy. They were fine. Connecting in such a way could complicate things should their countries relations turn sour.
Though Arthur never believed that the UK and the US would ever turn against each other. Better safe then sorry.
And while he grew very irritated sometimes with the United States and his meddling he knew the fault was not in Alfred alone. There were his bosses to point fingers at as well. So as the debt to the Chinese grew and grew and the economy began to crumble Arthur began to prepare for the day when he'd have to catch the American feom his long fall from the top. Lots of countries had taken that fall, him included. And he was determined to help the American when it was his turn. Sadly, that day was slowly approaching. Arthur felt partly responsible. Once upon a time before the world wars America had wanted to stay isolated. Away from the battles and wars that had been tearing Europe apart for hundreds upon hundreds of years. Even when the second one started America had again declined to participate. But he was forced into battle once more.
Arthur remembered that day well. When America proved that he was a super power and he was not to be trifled with. Japan would certainly never forget… The war was won again thanks to Alfred's help. A hero again. But it was then that the isolation stopped, and the American involved himself far more then he should in the business of other countries. What happened to the blonde who didn't care? That wanted to sit at home dreaming of the skies and stars that he was determined to one day reach and grab?
The wars had ruined that innocence and may lead to a downfall of a powerful country.
But with the new boss, things started to look a little hopeful. Alfred was more aware of things. Had plans that actually worked. Ideas that made sense. Slowly. Slowly he may be able to pull himself out of the hole he had dug himself. Arthur hoped he would.
And so here he was. Looking at that phone dreading what was awaiting him. What had happened to Alfred? He knew it was Alfred. He knew it. That feeling just moments earlier. The screams in his dream… Something happened.
He hesitantly reached for the phone and slid it open. "Hello?"
"Sir Kirkland... Sorry to wake you, but…"
The Englishman's eyes went wide and he wanted to scream in absolute agony at the news he was receiving.
"Let me go! Let me go to America please!" he begged.
"And what if the same thing happens to England while you're away?"
"Please! He is our alley. Our most powerful one. Let me go to him in his most desperate time!"
"We are sending aid, but you are needed here…"
"Please!" the Englishman begged again. He felt the tears forming in his eyes.
He waited with bated breath as the long and heavy silence passed between the two men.
"…Alright."
All of the United States major cities had been attacked. Bombed by fighter jets of what was suspected to be Russia's. No one was terribly sure. Not yet at least. They bombed the cities of New York, Las Angeles, Chicago, Dallas, just to name a few. For some reason Washington was spared. No one knew why, no one was questioning it right now.
The United States was more concerned about rescue and relief effort than retaliation right now.
New York was where he assumed the American was, as no one in Washington was quite sure where the Nation's Avatar was. Not to mention they were evacuating, just in case.
New York was just a guess. With the city being attacked again… this had to be where Alfred was.
"Alfred!" He could feel the heat of the flames from the destruction. He must be getting closer to the center of the damage.
A soft breeze, but enough of one to blow the smoke away for a moment and let him see into the ruined city. A lone figure stood in the center of the ruined city looking at the buildings that were burning. The cars flipped over, ruined beyond repair. The sky was an ashy red and black. The city was eerily quiet though. It was dead. No living souls still breathed in the city. Not anymore.
Arthur ran towards the American. "Alfred!" he called again at last seeing the blonde respond. Slowly the American turned, he met a face caked in ash, tear streaks cutting through the ash, dirt and what seemed to be blood that was on his face. Arthur looked over the American completely. Blood everywhere. Blotches of it everywhere. Staining his clothing and even his bomber jacket.
"Arthur." He almost missed the American's voice it was so quiet. So broken.
"Alfred.. You need to get out of here. Your government needs you."
"I tried to save people. But everyone was dead by the time I got here. Everyone was dead, Arthur…"
"I know…you tried. Now-"
"What kind of hero can't save people?"
More tears were falling now. Unending streams of sorrow and pain. "Alfred…" he stepped forward, carefully wrapping his arms around the American, knowing he was terribly injured from the attacks.
"Why? Why does this happen!" Alfred demanded. "I try to mind my own damn business and they attack me. I get involved and they attack me! My people! My citizens! Innocent people! What should I do?" Alfred screamed to the best of his ability, his voice clearly going on him. He let out a pained scream, keeling over.
Arthur held him tight, letting the American scream and cry out his frustrations. His knees hitting the ground with the American's. And he closed his eyes tight to the pain screams that echoed through the lost city.
"Come on Alfred," The Englishman said once more, gently pulling the American up. Putting one of Alfred's arms over his shoulder and helping out of this dead city.
In Vienna
He ran through his house his hands over his sensitive ears as gunshots rang through his manor. He couldn't breath he was so scared. He may have one pistol in this house somewhere. Not like he could remember where it was to save his life. And it was to save his life!
"I hate this piano, Roderich!" her voice screamed as the machine gun fired again riddling his dear piano full of holes. That meant she was in the music room. He tried to calm and quiet himself and head to his library. He stepped in quietly, entering the library as her bullets continued to ruin his piano. It brought tears to his eyes but he couldn't focus on that now.
He hid in between one of the shelves, pressing his back against the spines of the volumes of literature. He slowed his breathing. Trying to calm down. But the betrayal hurt so much. For a second time it felt like she was sticking a knife into his chest.
The first time was when she left him. The fall of their empire. The end of the first World War, when he needed her more then ever, and she agreed with the other side and left without a word to him. He felt a tear slide down his face at the memory.
And now.
And now she was in his house with guns trying to kill him while he was defenseless
"I hate that piano! You loved it so much more then me!"
He could here her stomping through the halls looking for him. She was going to kill him. Give him a death. It'd be his first. Not even Prussia had been so cruel and taken his life in a battle. He'd be on the ground being picked up in his jacket. And Gilbert would laugh and mock, let France smack him around a little, but never kill him. He'd be let go. Those scarlet eyes promising a next time, but never death.
Maybe because killing a country without killing it's heart is pointless. Despite the large amount of hate that the Prussian and the Austrian had for each other he knew that Gilbert would never take his life. And he'd never take the others.
Though, just this morning he thought the same about…
The Austrian went rigid. His violet eyes wide and glassy. His sight no longer was of this room, but of beautiful Vienna. She was burning. Oh god… burning. He was burning. The aristocrat wrapped his arms around his middle screaming out in agony. People were dying. His people!
He fell to his knees, another scream ripping from his lips. Blood falling from his lips. His skin. It felt like it was blistering. His chest on fire.
He gasped for breath, almost missing the sound of her gun being cocked. And then the only thing he could think to do was fall on his chest. Bullets ripped through the library. Hitting wood, flying through the think volumes of all his books. Bits of pages were flying everywhere as she tore apart all he had. He curled up on his side, screaming again. Bits of paper hovered through the air, and onto him once they were able to settle.
Vienna.
He was going to die.
She. She of all people was going to kill him.
He struggled to breath, it was painful to do so. And at this point, he welcomed death. The agony was unbearable.
The ringing in his ears stopped at last. She had stopped firing. Her footsteps were silent, the paper she stepped on was not. It crunched under her boots. She was going to shoot him. The least he could do was die on his feet. He struggled to his knees, as another wave of fire swept through him. He pathetically fell to the ground, on his side, once more.
Tears fell from his violet eyes. He looked at he black boots then slowly met her pretty face. Hungary. Liz. His Liz. She didn't look as vengeful as he thought she would. He jade eyes held no fire. In fact they were glassy. Like she was about to cry. She scrunched her face up and pointed her gun at him.
He remembered a time when he had been scared of her. When he was about to be invaded by Prussia, she came to his aid. Demanding to fight. He didn't want her to. It was to dangerous. But she grinned a terrifying smile at him, and she demanded to kill Prussia.
"H-Hungary!" he had practically cried out at her. His innocent little flower…
And how she killed upon the battlefield. She was a beautiful killer. Fearless. Powerful. Deadly. And she fought for him. Killed for him. He had loved her dearly. They had been married once. How he loved her then too. She was his flower. So innocent and perfect. But she left. Just like everyone else that ever walked into his life. She left him.
Only his enemies remained and kept him company…
Yes. Once he had loved her.
And for the second time in his life he found himself looking at her with fear. This fear was different. This time she was out to kill him. The Austrian looked from the gun to her face. "H..Hungary.." he barely whispered out.
"I'm sorry… I have to." Tears fell from her jade eyes, and he was actually surprised to see them. "I promised Russia, when he took me after World War Two.. He promised not to touch me if I helped him down the road. I of course agreed…" She sniffed sadly removing her hand from her weapon for only a moment to wipe her eyes. "I don't want to do this… but I swear to you… I have no choice. He'll kill me. Crush my country, kill my people."
"So you'll kill me instead?"
"I don't have a choice!"
"You have powerful allies in NATO. They-"
She shook her head. "No… The United States is under attack as we speak, as our others right now. No one would have helped me if I declined. My people come first." She cocked her gun again.
She was going to kill him with her machine gun, make him some unrecognizable corpse. She once more removed her hand from her weapon and tugged at the flowers in her hair. She pulled them out and tossed them in front of him. "Once upon a time, I loved you dearly Roderich, I would have done anything for you…"
He wanted to laugh. Long long ago. When she was a maid in his house she may have respected him. Cared about him. But at this point, he could never believe that she loved him. Never. How dare she use his real name in a situation like this, as well. The biggest insult.
"Tell me Hungary… Who is it killing my people in Vienna?"
Her eyes became glassy again. Tears filling up her large jade eyes once more. She didn't answer him though, she just took a deep breath as she lifted her gun to put him out of his misery.
He closed his eyes waiting for her to shoot. Shots and her screams were heard at once. And all he could really confirm was that he was somehow alive. He was going to sit up but he was forced to his feet instead.
Scarlet. His eyes met scarlet eyes. He gasped.
"No time, Roderich." He was pulled roughly and all he could do was trip and stumble through the clutter and debris of the library.
He heard the rough voice of his rescuer curse, as the Austrian almost fell right over. Fire consuming his being again. He was picked up and carried as he screamed in pain again. Vienna. Beautiful Vienna was burning. His heart was being killed. His flags burning. His people dying. Fire everywhere.
"Shh Shh." A voice tried to sooth. Bullets rang through the house again. More cursing. Roderich couldn't focus on it all. He smelled fresh air, a hint of smoke and gunpowder to it. Vienna. That smell was Vienna burning! It felt another stab at his chest when he realized that.
He was placed in a soft leather seat. His car… A jingle of keys. An engine starting. More curses and gunshots.
"Fucking crazy bitch. I told you she was no good Roddy. Fucking women, I tell ya."
The car lurched forward, and the Austrian only didn't slam his head into the dashboard of his car thanks to a strong arm in front of him.
Violet eyes finally turned to his rescuer. White silvery hair. Eyes as red as the blood that was spilling from his city. Gilbert. Prussia. The fallen nation had saved his life. "How…?"
"Heh!" The albino grinned widely looking over at the Austrian. "I am the awesome me of course! Bet you've never been so grateful that I stalk ya, huh? Kesesese" His look turned deadly serious almost at once though. Roderich didn't think he'd ever seen the Prussian serious before. "How you holdin up?"
The aristocrat could only groan slightly. The pain was dying slightly, his heart was dead. Vienna was lost.
Gilbert understood. And while he didn't have his capital destroyed, it was taken when he lost his title. He didn't know the pain, but he understood the hollowness. The mortality of it.
"Sleep Roddy. I'm taken us to Berlin. Shit's goin' down everywhere… This is some organized shit, I'll tell ya." He stopped when he saw Roderich's face. Violet eyes in such pain and defeat. Tears pouring down his pale face. The Prussian took his hand off the wheel and ran a hand through the dark strands of hair. Not good with words. But maybe comforting gestures would-
A sob broke through, cutting Gilbert's thoughts short. "T-Thank y-y-you for s-saving m-me," Roderich got out, removing his glasses so he could ball into his hands easier.
"Ya big priss…" The Prussian, pulled the Austrian over the armrests, and let him cry on his shoulder. They couldn't stop. He wanted to get out of this country as quick as he could. But he couldn't just leave the Austrian crying in his seat.
The Prussian knew very well this pain. Though he couldn't quite compare the two. Roderich hadn't done anything to deserve this. Losing Prussia, while it sucked was punishment for the sins they had committed for that second world war. He prayed everyday that he was forgiven. Ludwig too. Some unforgivable things went down.
He felt Roderich's fingers tighten in his fabric of his shirt, and warm tears soak through his material. Gilbert wrapped an arm around the Austrian as best he could, keeping only one hand on the stirring wheel.
The shitty thing was, this was probably going to get a lot worse before it got better.
In Beijing
Yao rubbed his golden eyes tiredly. What a mess. At this rate America was never going to pay him back. Just when things may have been turning around… he sighed. Though, this was serious. Major attacks on his city. He felt bad for the young nation. He wished there was something he could do…
Send relief of some kind, this was an emergency situation. But the amount that America owed was staggering. They would do nothing that cost them any money towards the American. He had been badgered about this enough today. First that Englishman called him, he had tried to be polite, but he could hear the irritation in the other. Then Kiku…Kiku, he could feel nothing but disappointment from him, even from the phone. The younger nation had just hung up on him, heading off to America to help his friend.
Yao sighed rubbing his temples. Neither America or America's boss called. And China knew why. They knew the amount owed, asking for help wasn't something in their right to do. They'd probably decline his offer even if he did send help.
Eh…
Golden eyes flicked over to the television screen. The damage in ten major cities… millions dead. Maybe they'd accept help, even from him…
"This just in, breaking news from America, Washington-"
"Aiyah…" China whispered placing a hand over his mouth. His golden eyes wide in shock. He felt his stomach churn uneasily. To hell with the debt. He grabbed his phone starting to dial for his boss. He had to send help now. His golden eyes reading the moving font at the bottom of the screen, his fingers poised above the numbers. Vienna, destroyed. Austria, would Hungary save him? Vaduz destroyed. Yao winced at the thought of how much pain that little girl must have been in… but she had a strong big brother that would take care of her. Who else… ? Rome too… Destroyed. Certainly Germany and Spain would be there to help. But… it didn't make sense…
Why attack these countries? Lichtenstein, Italy and Austria… they weren't military threats. America was understandable. But…
Yao stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly. He stood in his chair slowly, bending his knees just slightly, just as he pushed himself off the floor in a back flip, leaping over the chair he had just been in. He heard a woman voice make a soft noise. A gleam of something metallic. A knife.
He landed behind his attacker. He crouched down quickly, sticking out his leg and using it to kick out the woman's legs, making her fall to the ground. He was on her in a second. But she was surpassingly strong. He took a nasty gash to the forearm before he successfully pinned her to the ground pinning her arms over her head, knocking the knife away from her. He panted glaring down at the woman.
Belarus.
Russia's younger sister…
"What do you want, aru?" Yao demanded.
"Big brother sent me! He did! If I do what he asks he'll consider my marriage proposal. I must complete my mission. I must." She struggled under him but was unsuccessful in freeing herself. She resorted to glaring at him. Her ice blue eyes holding a look that screamed madness.
"Do what? What did he send you to do, aru?"
She sneered and said nothing.
"There are ways of making you talk, aru. I will not hesitate to use them. You can't die you see, aru. So that means one can have a lot of fun with a prisoner like you. Days, weeks of endless torture and the only release is death, which you can not be granted. You'll be crazier then you already are, aru!"
The platinum blonde hesitated, but slowly spoke. "My brother. Brother sent me to capture you. The world powers must me taken out he said." She frowned sadly, but only for a moment. "America had to fall. He did. My brother hurt him bad. And just when he thought it was over, we hurt him even worse. No one would see that happen. A taste of his own medicine. So we did it. We said we wouldn't. But it must be done. It's over for him now. No more powerful United States. Not enough people to help while smaller nations need aid as well. Weak small nations that'd never put up a fight. We sent allies to harm them. Break them. Europe would be looking after it's own." Her eyes lit up happily at this next part. "Then Brother gave me a task! China he said. China is a super power. China is on the raise. So he sent me! He sent me to attack China. He's ruining my fun though, he is. He wouldn't let me kill you completely. I couldn't attack your heart. He said; no no. China has pretty eyes like sunflowers. I want you to bring him here to me to stay." She screamed in frustration thrashing against Yao's grip. "Not fair, not fair, not fair! Why does he want you? Why? Is he going to marry you instead? Not fair! I am not allowed to kill you. That would upset my brother. But if your heart is safe, then I can kill you all I like and you'll eventually wake up. I'd still be obeying my brother's desires!"
Yao looked at her wide eyed. She was nuts. Russia was behind this. But everyone would know that from the bombing that had just happened. Everything she had told him was things he already knew.
"What's going to happen next, aru?" He demanded, tightening his grip on her wrists.
"No point in asking me! He said he'd tell me the next part of the plan when I returned successful."
China snarled. Ivan was a smart bastard. You didn't tell pawns anything in case they were captured. This one here sang like a canary as soon as he had pinned her. On the plus side he had a prisoner. And his country was safe for now. He'd inform the others about this. It was the least he could do right now. Then get help to America.
He stood still holding the woman nation by her wrists, but she was a fighter. She kneed him in the groin first chance she got.
He yelped in pain, releasing her. Free of the China man's grasp she quickly reached down pulling out another knife from her boot. She was fast, she dodged Yao's grasp slamming the knife into his shoulder.
Yao let out a cry, needing to stop her before she grabbed her abandoned weapon from before. Or pulled another weapon from her dress. He pulled the knife out of his shoulder, swinging it at her, with no intent of hitting her with it. Just to get close enough to…
She backed against the wall, brandishing another knife she had retrieved from one of the folds of her dress.
He leapt at her, kicking her right in the stomach, she managed to cut his calf pretty good, but he still managed to send her through a wall with one of his powerful kicks. He smirked triumphantly despite the pain and the situation. He was pretty powerful, people shouldn't underestimate him!
Yao winced as he landed on his bad leg, limping through the hole he hand made to pin her back to the ground.
She was stuck on her stomach this time. He slammed her head into the tiled floor hoping to knock her out for at least a bit.. Yao looked around for something to tie her down with. Having her hands back in his grasp and against her back. Deciding for now the best option right now would be to use her apron that she wore with her dress. He untied the strings on her lower back and retied them with the nation's wrists in the bow. That would have to do for now.
He sighed wincing in pain. The people who worked in this building with him were starting to appear looking concerned and scared. "Get some security! I have someone of interests for the attacks, aru!" he ordered. He gripped the nation by her hair yanking her up. "I need to talk to the boss at once, aru!"
Russia needed to be stopped before more defenseless countries were hurt! He was a raising superpower, so the world was saying. After four thousand years, perhaps it was about time. Well, if that's what people were saying then he'd prove it!
A/N
Whew.
Welcome back any of my readers from my other fics. I was a bit stuck on my PrusxAust so I moved onto a plot bunny that wouldn't go away. It's been in my head for a while, and I wasn't sure if I knew enough History for me to pull this off. Even though I'm a fairly big History buff I find myself lacking in confidence. I decided that if I went with a WWIII concept then things should be okay, but I tend to dip into the past histories anyway, heh. You can't help it.
So first off, I know this concept has been over done. I sort of feel. With Russia as the big superpower picking on all the other countries. Yeah. Overdone. I don't want to spoil anything, but I plan to make things interesting. Taking America out first thing hopefully was enough of a pull to separate this fic from the others. (I don't know. There have only been a few WW3 fics that caught my interest…) But I don't know. I hope this catches your interest
Second. Pairings. There will be many. My OTP Is UKUS Uke US makes me happy. He's way to air headed to be a proper Seme, in my opinion at least. PrusAust was another you saw the starting of. Sorry about Hungary, but I couldn't think of anything more glorious then Hungary trying to kill Austria. It made every part of me scream yes! Even though she'd never do that in the cannon series or in real life, I liked it. So I went with it. Among others. You just have to read and find out as we go along. Don't want to spoil the parings as who saw Prussia coming to rescue Austria? Maybe you did… Sometimes it pays to have a stalker, ja?
Third. It's important to know how I do things with the countries. Their capital is their heart. The source of their immortality. The damage they feel is what's being done to their capital. Austria was burning, so Roderich will have burns on his chest where his heart is. And even with their capitals destroyed it still takes a lot to kill a them. After all, I think people and memories have something to do with it. Let's take Prussia for example. His country no longer exists, but that doesn't mean the Prussian people stopped existing too. Their blood is still around and the memory of his country.
And if a nation is killed, avatar and all and is reformed, I suppose a new nation is born from the memory of the old one. That's how I'd do it. So even though Austria's capital is gone, his country still exists. Let's say Hungary had succeeded in killing him. But his nation's leaders had been able to reform, and bring some kind of order, I would have had chibi little Austria come about. Not quite the same as the old one but still him in a way. Get it? As his nation puts itself back together he starts to grow, until he's almost like the old one. But he could never quite be the same.
That's how I'd do it anyway…
Other things you should know about how I deal with the countries, their flags and anthems are very soothing to them. I think it calms them down and relaxes them. So when we see America again, England will most likely be doing something with the anthem.
In regards to other wounds aside from the capitals being destroyed. The avatar represents the country. Not just the capital. So when they take a hit on their own land, they feel it. And it leaves a mark.
One last thing. Nations dying when their capital is still intact. They still have human bodies despite being avatars. So if one was to blow the others brains out, that'd incapacitate them. But it can't kill them. It puts them in a coma like state until they recover. Their bodies heal faster then normal humans.
This is how I write the nations. As nothing is confirmed I think it's safe to assume those things happen.
And I think that's it. There was history references and such, but I don't feel like making this Author's note any longer then it already is. Anyway thank you for reading~