"Fuck!" Allen says, slamming his back into the wall of the house he's taking shelter in. He clenches the gun tight in his hands, trying his hardest to catch his breath against the dust swirling around him. He stretches, angling his body to peek through the window above him. The ground is on fire, tarnished with the rage of war going on. People are on the ground, dead probably, while a few survivors are keeping a paranoid look out trying to pile them all up. Dog tags are being taken, ready to be sent home, if it hasn't been destroyed yet.

"What the fuck?" Allen spits out bitterly. He kicks a fallen board in front of him angrily. With a thunk he drops his head back and sighs. He hates war.

"Why the fuck did Luciano do this?" He asks loudly. he kicks the board again, harder this time, willing and wanting it to snap under his force.

"What in the fuck was going though his head when-"

"I don't fucking know." A deep voice cuts off his tirade before it can get going. Allen glances up at his brother who drops his pack to the ground and flops next to him. Matt runs a hand through his dirt matted hair, slowly but surely slipping out of the ribbon holding the strands together. Matt kicks the board too, splintering it in half. Allen huffs and pulls his legs close to him, trying his hardest to make himself smaller.

He's so angry. Luciano the bastard decided it would be a dandy fucking idea to declare war on his country. Whether or not Luciano had much say in that act, he sure as hell didn't look upset about it. He gleefully sent troops over to Allen's land. What a douche.

Allen and Luciano didn't get along, even on a good day, but that didn't make them enemies. At least, not until Luciano sunk Hawaii under the ocean. Allen cried over the loss, turned his sadness to anger, and his people rallied to fight the Italians. He thought World War 4 took it's toll, but this one is so much worse. He hoped a fifth war would never come, he hated fighting, he hated interacting. He twists to look out the window again, a pang of dread hits him hard as he sees his people sprawled on the ground not breathing. Fuck.

This has been going on for months. Such a short amount of time and yet so much death has already been caused. The Italian army never ends. They send troops after troops. Allen is lucky he has one of the world's largest populations, or he would have fallen quickly. Never would he have attacked Luciano like this. His people and government knew better than to mess with the Italians. All bets are off now. Luciano doesn't deserve a fair fight and if there is one thing Allen is good at, it's playing dirty.

The alliances came after. Matt had been the first to side with him. Allen cried at that too. Matt hated getting involved even more than he did, yet just a week after the whole war started, Matt came in with troops in high numbers. Oliver and Francois joined soon after, trying to even out the war front by attacking Italy from their side. Fuck it all when Lutz and Kuro held true to the alliance of World War 2, making everything the shit storm it is now.

"There you two are," A light relieved voice says, making Allen and Matt both turn their heads to the speaker. Oliver's usual smile is gone, replaced by one that is strictly relieved at seeing Allen and Matt alive and mostly unharmed. Francois enters the destroyed house after Oliver, a cigarette in his mouth, puffing out smoke. He nods once at the two on the ground, his only action of consolation.

"Are you two alright?" Oliver asks, kneeling in front of them and inspecting their faces. Their scars wouldn't be there anyway and both Allen and Matt nods their heads in a complete blatant lie. They are not okay and won't be for a while. Oliver gives them a sympathetic smile anyway, moving to sit on the ground too. Francois joins them.

The sound of planes, and every few minutes a gunshot, are heard outside. Allen can feel the ache of war on his body settling in. It's been getting worse. He is so sick of fighting. He is so angry.

"What the fuck," He whines, hiding his face in his knees. Oliver is too stressed to remark on his language and for that Allen is thankful. He can not deal with a lecture right now. He's trying, fuck he's trying so fucking hard right now. He's got the brunt of the war on his back etching into him in scars that may or may not last.

"Why did Luciano do this?" He asks quietly not expecting an answer. Not surprised when he gets none. He leans his head back up to rest against the wall. He's tired. He's so damn tired.

"Luciano is heartless," Francois mumbles, blowing out a puff of smoke. Oliver sighs and rests his head to Francois's shoulder.

"There's not a soul on this earth Luciano wouldn't hurt," Matt growls out, kicking another fallen board. Allen grimaces, releasing his clutch on his weapon. He doesn't want to do this anymore.

"Not on this earth," Oliver echoes lightly shuffling his feet on the ground. Allen feels the tears slipping down his face. He can't keep up the tough charade. He doesn't have the energy for it. Right now his troops are taking the journey to Europe, trying to burn Luciano to the ground and end this once and for all.

Luciano smiles to himself, looking at the map of the American continent. There are burn marks all over where he has attacked. A sadistic smirks crosses his face. He's running that American loudmouth ragged. Allen is so close to giving up. The battles are becoming longer and more haggaring to his people. Luciano rubs a hand subconsciously over his arm, where a brutal surprise attack from the Canadians left its mark. He shakes his head and snaps his arms down to their sides.

He rolls his shoulders, his troops preparing for the next attack. Just a little longer and he will conquer the United States. Taking down one of the world's biggest powerhouses, even with the help of some, will count as a legend in the history books. He can't wait to see the look on Allen's face when he's down in the mud and bleeding to death.

He lounges dramatically in his chair at the meeting table. No one else is there yet. Lutz and Kuro should be there soon if they ever get their heads out of their asses. They came to Luciano telling him they would fight with him as allies, and even when Luciano told them to fuck off because he didn't need help, they did anyway. Luciano pulls out his knife and sneers. He doesn't need help and he doesn't need allies. He's done most if not all of the work on Allen himself anyway. Though he supposed those two are good for leverage.

Luciano tosses the knife in the air, kicking his feet back and smirking to himself. War is so much fun, he almost doesn't want it to stop. His people are bloodthirsty, always itching for a chance to fight. Now they get to fight the United States and Canada? Oh it's a dream come true for them. They have stayed out of war long enough and it's time to bring the pain.

The door opens and in steps a familiar figure. Other than watching them enter the room, Luciano doesn't acknowledge his brother taking a seat across from him.

"You're in a good mood," Flavio remarks with none of his flare. Luciano rolls his eyes and catches his knife once more. He raises an eyebrow at Flavio slowly taking out miscellaneous papers from his bag. Luciano makes a 'tch' noise and throws the knife expertly to land on Flavio's papers, nailing them to the table. Flavio doesn't even flinch, continuing to pull out more papers.

"The Americans are falling," Luciano purrs. Flavio glances up at him, then returns to looking down. Luciano for a second cackles as the rest of the meeting members join them. Lutz and Kuro are smirking wildly at each other and a few key diplomats look highly uncomfortable. It's all quite amusing. Luciano gets the meeting underway, detailing how exactly the next phase of the plan will work out to blow the United States back under the water.