The year was 2XXX. Over many centuries, medicine, transportation, and academics have evolved to what they used to call "the Future." To avoid inhaling some kind of deadly radiation, the people who could afford it now only had to eat a strawberry that had certain vaccines for the toxins. Transportation now had become hover-crafts and monorails, just like the old Halo series (now with a sequel known as the "Devil's Horns") and other "futuristic" games. Academics began just a simple pane of glass what displayed text, pictures, and animations for all ages. Some were interactive while others were meant to act like a book.

The largest change of all was probably the newest country/continent introduced to the world. Antarctica finally became inhabitable and large flocks of wives, husbands, sons, and daughters flew there almost immediately. The frozen country was nearly as tough as Russia. They too had sub-zero temperatures and hostile animals. Penguins weren't too kind to those who would kill their young and pouch their eggs. They probably loathed every single one of those stupid, ugly, homo sapiens. The southern pole had been taken over by the English speaking royal brats known as "England." He just simply mapped the land, returned, and claimed it to be his. The English didn't care who entered their land as long as they paid the entrance fee.

Security also toughened over the courses of years. Not a single illegal immigrant could be found in any country, not even Antarctica. If one didn't pay the fee, they were immediately thrown out, unless they had a pretty roughed up record in which case, they were executed. In the future, it was best to keep yourself in line.

Because the English were so ignorant of their new addition, they didn't notice that the people who lived there too evolved. While they were drinking Earl Grey tea with their pinkies raised high and proud, the snow-white men trained all day, learning to fight. They were taught by someone who had already inhabited the iceberg nearly a century ago. He was a frail man now, two of his three sons gone to live in America. His final son, Yuki, had pure nationalism for his new country. It had taught him that the cold could be his friend and in many situations, his worst enemy. Soon, England began to throw all of their problems at Antarctica. The people of Antarctica, called the Arctics, began to grow rebellious. A decade after the problems were thrown, they had enough guns and supplies to go to war with their mother country. The Arctics had chosen a leader who just so happened to be their general's son.

Yuki would have the greatest of honor to stroll into Buckingham Palace and ask their prime minister if he was willing to let Antarctica thrive or go to war with some of the toughest of people second only to Russians. Of course, the prime minister refused and ordered the "traitor" to be executed. His men weren't fast enough. Yuki already disposed of ten of them before fleeing his mother country and returning to his homeland by boat. He announced their leader's decision and almost simultaneously, AKs, snipers, and Desert Eagles were cocked and ready for battle.

The Arctics didn't even give their mother country a second to prepare. A single week later, sleek white ships docked into English harbors. The officials there explored the ships, only to be sucked into its dark dungeons, where they were slaughtered without mercy. Then, they were stripped clean of status and of uniform. The clothing was then worn by the rebels and they stepped onto English soil, guns hidden just under their thick cuffs.

The royal city of England was then turned into a real life Hell. Buildings were burnt but people were spared. Unless you fought back, you could live. Those who tried to fight back were slaughtered.

Yuki moved fast, dodging falling soldiers. But soon, his rebels would fall also and his master plan would be in ruins. They spent years training unconsciously for this sole moment. When they could just throw all their problems away and destroy all those who opposed them. He soon found his way to the prime minister's house. Instead of racking the door, he kicked it down with one mighty front kick. The brick house was empty.

No, no it wasn't. If you focused enough, just enough to see through the darkness, you could see the soldiers waiting in the shadows. Yuki pulled out the same weapon used to slice the ten men who were sent to attack him. It was still stained deep red with their blood.

Then, the Arctic was a blur. One slice.

Blood decorated the painting of "Leonardo", staining the masterpiece's face.

Two down.

Their blood decorated the tile floor, seeping into the spaces and the concrete lapping it up.

Then, the last two simply fled. They didn't bother to resist, choosing to value their lives rather than throw them away.

"The country, or your life, sir," Yuki asked politely. His mighty sword was stuck between the minister's fat neck. The frail old man gave a weak, "You can have it."

The leader of the mighty rebellion left the house, the promise inscribed in his very own blood, and the blood of the cut minister, on a piece of ancient paper. The prime minister was left with a gash across his arm and was found before he bled to death.

That was how Antarctica became the mighty country it is. With Yuki as their king and Hikari as their queen, Antarctica soon became the second strongest, not daring to make enemies along the way.

Their life rules was simply: "They hit you, shove them and beat them 'til they cough blood." The Arctics didn't take too kindly towards terrorists. The entrance fee was ripped out of their lives and most countries saw something good in their king. Yuki was handsome, generous, and kind. He helped those countries in need and shot down those who dared to step a toe into their icy waters with "murder" in their eyes.

It is now 3015. The great King Yuki has passed away, leaving a single heir. There is only one left and he doesn't want to rule the beautiful land of Antarctica. His name, was Kagemori Kuroyoko. The first and final heir for the Arctics.

The rebellion is looked onto today as "The Antarctic Stand." There was a world law passed that the representatives of their countries were sent to a prestigious academy, "Hetalia Academy for Renowned Prodigies." They had sent the prince a letter, requesting he join immediately. Kagemori didn't see anything special in him. He could shoot like a regular Arctic, hitting an apple's stem over fifty meters away. He could play games like a regular Arctic, outscoring even America in baseball. He could play an instrument like a regular Arctic, learning Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata at a tender age of ten.

What made him special? Was it because of his strange hair? After all, it wasn't everyday that an Arctic was born with soft, silky, night-black hair with one thick stripe of pure, bloody red running down the left side. His goth-styled hair made him stand out among the many prodigies who were dressed finely in their black suits and brown loafers. Those stuffy clothes were never his style.

Kagemori's was a black and white striped long sleeve which was covered up by a sleeve-less black vest with a fur inside. Then, because of his paranoia, he covered his neck with a silk red scarf, wrapping it many times. He thought it imitated Ivan Braginski (Russia) and he wanted to feel his power. The girlish legs he possessed were quickly hidden by baggy black jeans. He wasn't much of a "Show-Off-My-Body" person. Those pale feet of his were always covered with black socks and then purple and black sneakers. When his father, the king of Antarctica, passed away, he invited his son to take it, Kagemori (known as "Kage" to his friends) declined.

"I'm not meant to be royal. This whole system reminds me of England. I will not repeat what they have done to us," he reasoned.

~~Kage's POV~~

"This is an entrance exam?" I thought as I started at the pre-school level problems on the copy paper. I'm like, a thousand years old or so in human years. The pencil in my hand quivered.

"I refuse to take this test," I said at the observer. The professional-like man raised and eyebrow.

"And why is that?" he asked.

"This is an insult to my intelligence. I refuse to take this," I answered and threw my pencil down.

"Kagemori Kuroyoko. The representative from Antarctica. I see that your people have a very tattered history, going to war with England. You got lucky when you won," he sneered, looking at my information.

"We won. It wasn't luck. We trained everyday. My father was the one who stormed into that prime minister's house and asked him that famous sentence - 'The country or your life.' The minister was the one who backed down. He simply stood there. Dad could've killed him to mark Antarctica's power but he spared the minister. He didn't kill everyone. The rebels saved those who were somehow missed in the search in the burning building. That took away more that fifty people from us. Just to save that royal country's people. We don't want to hurt anyone but if you so much as tease one of our people, I can guarantee you that I will have a bullet through your head," I answered. No one got away with saying that we were "lucky" in "The Antarctic Stand." The Arctics have bested everyone but Russia in everything. Academics, sports, musicality, you name it, we've won it.

"Well. If you have so much nationalism, then tell me, why won't you finish that exam?" he asked, pointing a pudgy finger at the simple quiz.

"It's an insult to my intelligence. What age do you think I am? One? I am the first immortal in my whole country. I am over one thousand years old. I've seen people come and die. It's not a pleasant feeling," I answered.

"Sorry for wasting your time," I grumbled, pulled on my vest, and opened the door. In tumbled four of Hetalia's students. One had blonde hair, blue eyes, and an aviator vest. The other blonde had green eyes and thick eyebrows. The next had long blonde hair and really made me question his sexuality. The other looked Asian.

"Alfred F. Jones, Arthur Kirkland, Wang Yao, Francis Bonnefoy, and Ivan Braginski. What on Earth's name are you doing?" the professor barked.

Braginski? Where have I heard that before?

"The representative of America, England, China, France, and Russia," I whispered, looking at the heap of bodies. They didn't seem that great. America, or Alfred, didn't seem like a fearless hero who had stood up against England, or Arthur, like we did.

"I-It was Arthur's idea!" Alfred blurted out, pointing at the English man.

"It was your idea, aru!" Wang protested, standing up and dusting off the dirt on his silk wear.

Ivan simply walked in, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

"Y-you're Ivan Braginski, the representative from Russia," I stuttered, pointing at him.

"Da. Who are you?" he asked, a creepy aura around his seemingly cheery smile.

"I-I'm Kagemori Kuroyoko, from Antarctica," I introduced.

"Oh. I've heard of your country. Thank you for not besting mother Russia. We'll get along fine, da?" he asked, smiling once again.

"Yeah, let's hope you don't get killed first," Arthur said.

"Is that seriously what your military wears?" Alfred asked. He examined the fuzzy vest and striped shirt.

"Not really. My style greatly differs from everyone else's," I answered, not sure if I could punch the American or not.

"I know my country dumped all their problems on you guys, but if it's alright with you, I'd like to be friends," Arthur said, throwing Alfred out the door. I looked at his gloved hand.

"Sure, I guess. Put the past behind, where it belongs, and march toward the future, head up high and mistakes forgotten, right?" I asked, shaking it firmly.

"That was beautiful! Do it again!" Francis, the representative from France, said. He had taken out his iPhone 6S and was trying to snap pictures. Now, I really wonder about his sexuality.

"Goddamn it, Francis! Put that away!" Arthur screamed and tried to whack it out of his slender hands.

"Nyah! You're so short, Arthur!" Franics teased.

I stared at them. How could they have so much fun while they were enemies? It was like a fact that England and France hated each other with a burning passion. America and England still worked together after the American Revolution.

"Well, are you interested?" the professor asked. I glared at him, my crimson eyes willing a ping-pong sized hole to sizzle through his skull.

"I know I was wrong to criticize Antarctica too quickly. I see potential in those eyes of yours. This is obviously nothing for you," he apologized. The entrance exam was then tossed into a recycling bin. I stared at him in amazement. Then, I quickly regained my composure. A strong, independent, and rebellious nation.

"It would be my honor, professor," I said and shook his hand just like I did with Arthur, a nice firm grip.

"Welcome to Hetalia Academy, Mr. Kuroyoko," he said and smiled, teeth showing through his graying mustache-beard combo.