Of course, to the eyes of his fellow nations, England was quite comfortable with being alone. He would prefer to spend time at home with a good book and a warm cup of tea, as opposed to being part of the crowded gatherings that he was often made to participate in. Sure, England would be rather excited to attend a social affair such as a party, and engage in all the expected formalities that would ensue from such events. However, I digress.

Yes, the other nations all perceived the critical, easily-angered gentleman as a man who didn't care to be around others all too often. Someone who was perfectly fine being alone for all and eternity, resting in splendid isolation. Surely, anyone who would go out of their way to socialize with the Brit would simply be shot down by his disdain towards conversing with those whom he finds, in his own definition of course, 'idiotic.'

However, they were gravely mistaken.

England was a nation. An empire, mind you. He was powerful and successful, proud and strong. He had control over so many countries, so many people, and so much responsibility. He was a man to be reckoned with. He was the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, offspring of the great Britannia, one of the four sons she bore, and, arguably, the strongest.

But, he was still human.

True, he was a country. A country with responsibilities and allies and enemies. But he was residing within a human body, conveying the emotions and desires only a human can. One of those emotions being loneliness.

And, with that, we shall begin our tale.

Slam.

The dust within the darkened, ominous room stirred for but a moment, due to the abrupt disturbance of a door. Standing in front of it was none other than England himself. His face was aglow with a reddened tint, eyes narrowed in anger and frustration. His hands were balled into fists, that only undid themselves to retrieve a cloak that was situated upon a nearby hook on the wall, and a spell book from the shelf. Briskly, now properly adorned with the necessary materials, the Brit made his way over to the large, circular summoning design upon the ground.

"Bloody idiots." He sneered, flipping through the pages in his book to find a certain incantation. "I'll teach them not to mess with the Great British Empire!"

He stood before the circle, only pausing to pull the hood on his cloak over his messy blonde hair. A cruel smirk played on his lips as he extended the arm wielding the book, and began his incantation.

"Bring forth a spirit, a being of absolute! Bring forth myself, my brother, my comrade! Hear my words - I summon a being that possesses all that I need, and all I ever will! All that is necessary, and all that which cannot be defeated! A being to protect and defend, a being to stand in awe before my glory and respect none other than the Great. British. Empire!"

The circle was lit up with a strange glow that flowed throughout the room effortlessly, basking all in it's impressive light. Ha ha, it was working! Soon, they would regret the day they messed with England! The fools - now they'll have to face the ultimate enemy, one that no one stood a chance against! Surely, surely they would crumble under this new foe, and all will be his! He would make them pay, he would make them pay!

Just as England's lips curled into a cruel smirk, the light got brighter. He was being blinded by the immense amount of magic filling the room. Perhaps this being was even stronger than he had envisioned? All the better! England kept his place, wincing against the light, an arm raised to block some of it, when slowly, it began to die down.

Now was the time to behold his creature of ultimate power! Someone perfect in every way! Someone to be true to his empire, someone to stand by his side, someone he could always rely on to do his bidding! His comrade, his brother, himself!

Slowly, England dropped the arm that was shielding his eyes, and rested his expecting gaze upon a dim figure in the darkened room. As his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he could make out a rather tall person indeed. Still, it was a tad too dark to decipher any details.

"You there!" England commanded. "Come closer!"

The creature obeyed.

As it moved, it made little to no sound. Its movements were... Effortless, really. The Brit could even tell that in the dark. Slowly, it drew nearer, becoming clearer. When it was very close, a face could now be seen. It was a man.

The man slowly extended an arm, and, much to England's surprise, grabbed his hand. "H-Hey! I am your summoner - let me go!"

Still, though, the man did no such thing. Instead, he bowed before England, still holding his hand. Carefully, at the end of his bow, he kissed the other's knuckles. The warm, soft lips sent a jolt of shock through the Brit, and he quickly snatched his hand away.

"Just... Just what do you think you're doing?"

The creature remained bowing for a moment longer, before straightening up once again. He was at least a foot taller than England, and for a moment, the blonde had wished that he would have kept bowing.

The light was terrible, so the Brit still couldn't make out the features of this creature. He closed his book, and turned to set it on the shelf. So far so good, it seems as if this was a successful escapade after all- "Hey!"

He hadn't even heard the creature come up behind him. Suddenly, arms were draped around his body. Before England could even turn, the creature unlaced his cloak and stepped away. Confused, England finally turned and stared as the man hung it neatly on the hook, and then turned back to his creator, as if awaiting further instruction.

"... Oh." He blinked, surprised. "Er... Thank you."

And, though it was hard to see, England could have sworn he saw a smile in the darkness.