Went to my school's football game against our rival school today. We destroyed them hehe

But then they came over to our side of the stadium and tore down our posters. We didn't retaliate because we're respectable people and we were beating them so bad anyways so nyeh

Anyways we just repaired our posters with tape. Inspirational shit, bro.

And for some reason this popped in my head.

SO YEY ONE-SHOT

Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hima-papa :D

Yong Soo strolled through the burned streets of Seoul, arms wrapped tightly around himself. The date was January 1st, 2013, and the world had ended.

Just not in the way most thought it would.

It had started in Japan, of course, on December 1st, 2012. Kiku was drinking tea in his rock garden, watching his koi swim in the little pond he'd installed a few centuries back. He hummed a Vocaloid song under his breath as he absently stroked the cat Heracles had given him three years ago on his birthday.

He didn't even notice them flying above him.

One moment he was there, an archipelago nation full of promise and technological advance. The next, the country of Japan was a smoldering mass of earth; what were once bustling cities full of life were now piles of ash and melted metal.

Kiku himself was never found, even after desperate searches. They'd screamed his name, sobbed it, tore apart debris, but there was nothing to be found.

The nations were horrified. They'd never seen an entire nation destroyed so quickly. It hadn't even been more than a day.

The next day, it was Korea. Both of them.

Yong Soo was webcamming with Matthew on Skype, talking about Kiku's recent destruction, and wondering why it'd happen, and if it'd happen to anyone else.

Matthew was about to ask if there was no sign of Kiku yet when suddenly the image of Yong Soo blipped out to be replaced by a black screen.

Yao was sending over supplies to Yong Sun's house when he heard it.

Screaming.

He dropped all the supplies and ran towards the border, choking on smoke. A few Koreans charged past him into his own country, panic shown clearly across their faces, blood on all of their clothing. And that was it. A few, no more, no less. Everyone else was strewn on the ground, eyes and mouths open in agonized horror, body parts littered about the scene like a grotesque parody of confetti.

Choking back the bile that had risen in his throat, he dashed back to his own lands, trying hard to forget what he had seen.

He himself was next.

He was with Mei Mei and Xiang when it happened.

They were huddled together, anxiety written all across their faces. They didn't know what was going on, why it was happening. All they knew was that three of their family members were gone, and that they'd probably never see them again.

The last thing the three heard before everything went to flames was the sound of missiles raining down from overhead.

And so, for an entire month, nation after nation was obliterated. No one could retaliate because no one knew what or who to retaliate against. Summit meetings were held daily, sometimes for days. And yet, for every meeting they held, there were people who had vanished. One day you had hundreds of nations all clamoring to be heard, and the next only a few dozen.

America slammed his hand on the table, bags under his eyes and his hair disheveled. "Obviously we have no idea what's going on, or who's doing it, but we can't just sit around here and do nothing. Africa and Asia have been obliterated, and parts of Europe have been reduced to piles of debris. We can't let anyone else be destroyed!"

Antonio ran a hand through his hair and said wearily, "We've been at this for days. We don't know how to fix this, Alfred. We can't even see them."

"And even if we were able to see who was doing it, how can we fight them? They can destroy entire nations in a single hour. You saw what happened to Russia, and he's the biggest one out of all of us!" said Francis, his once carefree manner discarded and replaced by one of exhaustion.

A moment of solemn silence in respect for their fallen comrade before Felicianno asked, "Has anyone seen Heracles? He's been gone for a few hours and I don't think going to get a glass of water takes that long, ve."

Confusion as to where Heracles was was followed by a sudden shock of fear. He'd been gone too long…

They found his body outside the building in a row of bushes leading up to the front door, mouth agape and bloody, eyes wide and unseeing.

Yong Soo coughed up another glob of blood, staining his torn and ragged hanbok even more. He collapsed on a stretch of dirt that was once Pyeongyang and stayed there, curled up in the fetal position. He gasped for air and his lungs filled with dust, causing him to cough painfully, irritating his torn throat even more.

He'd been searching for his twin for weeks without success, and he was close to giving up. He'd heard about how Greece, Poland, Greenland, Iceland, and scores of other nations had been literally blown to pieces, and where there was once land was now ocean. Seychelles' island was gone now, and so was Hawaii, New Zealand, the continent of Australia, and half of South America and Africa.

How he'd survived, he didn't know, and he didn't care. All he wanted was to find someone, anyone, who was alive.

Alfred had gone down fighting. He'd discovered the origin of the mysterious bombings, and had fought back with all of his considerable strength. He'd destroyed half of the invading fleet before he himself was killed. Matthew had held his brother in his arms as he died, gasping for air and bleeding from multiple gashes and wounds. He'd never fully recovered from that experience, and had fought with a ferocity previously unmatched in all of history.

With the last of his strength he clawed his way back to his twin's still form and died holding onto Alfred's bomber jacket. Kumajirou had limped over to Matthew's body and climbed on top of it, paws resting against Matthew's back as he closed his eyes and stilled.

Yong Soo noticed something move out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to the left and noticed feet.

Feet?

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I guess that doesn't apply to you though, does it?" Chuckling followed by an abrupt silence. Yong Soo would have replied, but for some reason it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

"Now, it's not as if I wanted to kill off everyone, oh no. Quite the opposite actually. However, I needed to make room for the next generation… a generation unlike any other… You could even say a generation unlike any that had existed on this world ever before."

Yong Soo turned his head a little farther, desperate to catch a glimpse of the one who had started all this mindless destruction. The sun's glare prevented him from seeing anything but a silhouette.

But why did the silhouette look so familiar?

The silhouette crouched down, and Yong Soo was confronted with a startlingly familiar face, one that he had seen every single day of his entire life since he didn't even remember when.

"Hello there, Yong Soo. Nice to meet you. My name is Im Yong Soo, and I'm going to be your replacement."

Okay so this story came to me while I was brushing my teeth after taking a shower okay the best ideas come to me in the restroom don't judge!1

This is a one-shot.

… I think…?

Anyone who can guess where Im Yong Soo #2 came from gets a cookie ;D