A/N: I don't own Hetalia
The slight buzz of the barely working television lit up the small trailer of the two Italians that lived there. Bits and peices of words could be made out of the program that they were watching, which was just the newscast for that day. Except... it was different. Outside there was ash starting to fall from the sky; acid rain pouring down on the small trailer, beginning to seep through. Inside the trailer, the younger man, who had red-brown hair, fixed his usually cheery chestnut eyes on the glowing television. The other man, who was older with darker hair, and golden-green eyes, was whispering harshly into his cell phone, using vulgar words and a loving hatred in them. Suddenly, the screen began to fuzz, making the younger man jump. The older quickly shut his cell phone, whipping his head around to look at him.
The younger man's scared eyes glanced up. "Fratello?"
The older sighed. "Yes, Feliciano?"
"Is it starting?"
"Yeah, it's starting..."