Not expecting them to believe I was really Atlantis, I looked around at the world meeting. No one that had known me before I went into hiding were there anymore. Germany was clearly Germania's kin, Italy was obviously Rome's, and after some squinting I recognized Greece to be his mother's son. But they were all gone. All my friends...dead.
I'd muddle through, though. That's what I was known for, after all; endurance, adaptability. I adapted to hiding, I can adapt to being around people, countries again.
There were many more now. Missing so much made me feel old, but at least I was up and about again. I'd been resting for far too long.
"I thought that scientists disproved the theory of lost continents," said one of them with insane eyebrows. I hadn't remembered his name because he wasn't a direct descendant of one of my former friends.
"Science is wrong sometimes," I said. "False paths, among other things."
Germany looked like he had something to say, but would choose not to say it. Just like Germania. The resemblance was startling, almost impossibly close.
"Germania—sorry, I mean Germany—do you have something to say?"
"Germania would tell me stories about you sometimes," he said. "He said he missed you."
As I would now miss him. I supposed I deserved it, though. Going into hiding for so long. I sighed; you couldn't change the past. "I'm going to miss him too." I said it really quietly because I didn't particularly want anyone to hear. Setting that aside, I cheerfully bobbed my head up. "But all that is passed now. I want to get to know you all now."
"How do you propose you go about that?" said the man with the insane eyebrows.
I shrugged. "Spend a few days at their house, I guess?" That's what happened when I introduced myself to my old friends. I had to wear a chastity belt at Rome's though, the stupid pervert. Do you know how uncomfortable iron underwear is?
Suddenly kind of sad, I scolded myself for speaking bad of Rome. Yes, he was a pervert, and yes that was annoying, but when it really mattered he was my friend at the end of the day, and that's all that counts in the end, right?
Brought back to Earth by a jumping blonde sporting a bomber's jacket and glasses, I surveyed the room. None of the other countries seemed particularly objective, though a certain light-haired one with scary purple eyes and a white scarf sort of glared at me, but made no attempt to anything else.
The jumping blonde was shouting, "Come to my house first, dude! We'd totally have so much fun!"
"America!" the guy with the eyebrows scolded. "You just want to force all your terrible...everything on her!"
"I really don't care whose house I go to first," I interjected. "America, was that your name? America's is fine."
"Ha, England! See?"
Note to self: Eyebrows=England.
