Fear remained even now.
Feliciano caught his breath on a sob as his mind raced back to memories burnt within it.
He could see smoke from gunfire, from dangerous toxins, and death laced within it.
Bodies piled high, falling, falling.
Feliciano could not breath.
It was all his fault, his fault!
He hated the guilt that ate up his being and hated the way desert heat made up violence and death.
The Italian could recall chambers that he'd never dreamed into existence where bodies piled up from abuse and torture.
His breath caught from what could escape and enable his life to continue healthily.
He wanted to forget.
Kiku could see the bodies lost and piled high; he could feel the wrath of his sword, an extension of his being.
He could see blood and gore and torture caused by his hand and his people's hands.
He could see judgement from others that saw him now as just the slayer that he was.
The Japanese nation had not meant for this harm to spring about; he was just following orders.
He'd been trying to help his people based off of what his leader had convinced of him, but still no one could see that and yet he felt so powerless to stop this and desired for once to be held close like a child and rocked gently to hopefully sweet dreams that never would come, not for him, not now.
Kiku stared forward, seeing pain and blood and disaster.
Ludwig stared across at documents that seemed so unreal, at judgement that his people had secured to him, and his nation though they certainly hadn't meant to.
When did they become so power hungry?
He stared down at his hand as if imagining all of the blood that felt as if it could still be seeping in even now.
The German man hated this; he hated that he'd caused so much harm and that they'd judged others harshly enough to commit such acts against them.
He desired to stop this steady flow of pain and to make things right or as right as they could be.
The Germanic nation would open up the borders, work to accept everyone, and become the country that others could come to for protection and security.
It may take a while, but he was determined to succeed.
Still they had each other among every judgement uttered against them, and their hearts broke further over the pain that they'd inflicted based off of what was considered 'right' at the time.
Many facts still seemed unreal to them as out of the war zone as they now were.
They'd only wanted to defend their people, grow their land, and escape poverty, but they'd went about it wrong due to what their leaders had convinced them yet they'd strive to fix the remaining aspects of themselves and others up through this time of realization.
It was difficult to go on living under harsh judgement and of the guilt that bit into their insides, farther and farther.
Still, they'd fight for those that had been persecuted to be now protected and for rights to fill their nations among new leadership; it wouldn't be easy though life for a nation never was.