A/N
Okay, I can't decide what to write anymore. Chapter 4 for Areyshland Isles is almost done, Chapter 3 for Terrible Things is almost done. . .might end up putting them all on Hiatus because I just discovered an idea that I feel really strongly about. R&R?
Disclaimer, I do not own Hetalia.
Rated T for swearing and violence and me being paranoid.
Summary: Welcome to world of deceit and hate, where there is no flag-waving or cheering. Welcome to a world where no one is there to watch for you, talk to you, protect you; no God to save you. Welcome to Earth.
Silence.
The first thing that he noticed was the stretched, lengthy silence that seemed louder than thunder. His head pounded in agony, forcing him to remember the pain that was inflicted upon him only minutes ago. He barely noticed his feet moving frantically under him, as if trying a futile run; after all, there was nothing to run from. He was safe from harm for the time being.
The pain in his head reminded him fiercely that there was something to run from. He just didn't remember what it was. Another human? A monster? What?
He felt his chest rising up and down from each terrible breath, his feet moving in slow-motion with his arms, and his wide sky-blue eyes trying to escape the sight of the bloodied bodies. Nations rose up from the dust, whether new or old, then were destroyed all over again. He was the only one of the original world powers that remained now.
England was gone. Russia had been overrun. Japan lost the war to China. China lost his soul to humanity. Germany disappeared with no will left to run his country, and Italy followed shortly after. France's civilians had broken down their system, and merged with what was left of the other world powers. He became nothing. He, the United States of America, was the only one left out of the Big Eight.
"God save us," he whispered, dry lips cracked and unfeeling. He licked his lips, trying to moisten them with his tongue.
Sadly, he knew, there was no God. This God had been the start of the end of the world. This was no longer 2012, 1999, or anything. This was the future. There were new countries now; some that weren't even supposed to exist.
He could hear them. Shouts, angry orders, and heated arguments were heard behind him. They seemed to be in a rush to capture him…After all, he was the last one. The last one in the way of their world domination.
Who were they? He'd never bothered to remember their names. They didn't deserve it, after all. They had taken away England and separated him into several different parts. He became so many civilizations that he grew distraught and dissipated into oblivion.
Where was God to save them now? Nowhere, it seemed like. One of those terrors behind him was a nation spawned out of his own grief and hate; Benland. His only son, who was started by an average but tall teen with spunky brown hair and brilliant speckled brown-green eyes that went by the name of Ben. That selfish teen had named the new country after himself, and somehow, settled nicely into the middle of the Bermuda Triangle. They also worshipped a goddamned pear tree. He couldn't believe how retarded his American descendants could become, but now it seemed like anything was possible.
Benland had become great. He'd discovered unknown technology, buried long before America's time. He'd put back together the new materials under Earth's surface, and created a gigantic, perfect cloning facility. His population was so large the land was bursting at its seams just trying to hold all of Ben's clones.
It was a perfect communist government. They all responded to each other, knew each other, and thought like each other. They were practically the same mind with millions, billions of bodies. Even though their lifetime was only twenty or so years max, they produced at such an alarming rate that Benland soon became the smallest, but largest-population world power there was.
That was the only Terror nation he remembered. Oh, yes, he'd named the killing nations the Terrors. No Axis, no Allied Forces. They were the reincarnation of Hell. They were the Terrors.
The others were extremely vague in his mind. A Germanic nation, a Turkish-Spanish nation, a unique but European-like nation, an English nation, a Russian-like nation, and several more. They'd all risen to power years ago, and had nearly wiped all competition off the planet. They replaced the old Big Eight and started a new generation, this one even worse than the last. They'd destroyed, conquered, and conquered some more. They were bloodthirsty bastards that shouldn't have existed.
He'd have to trust three of his citizens to carry out his will, America thought. He would choose his best three, and send them out to infiltrate them all. A daring, movie-worthy move, but he knew it was practically futile. He could still try, though. He didn't have long to live, considering the manhive Benland was chasing after him.
An eagle soon alighted on his outstretched arm, its golden eyes still sharp and expectant. This is why the eagle represents America, he thought. Because it stays so free and powerful, even in the face of death.
There was only one way, he thought, placing his written will in the eagle's talons. He needed help from the past.
The past was where he could make amends. He could prepare for the world's destruction at the hands of his own son. If he could turn back time…he would protect the Earth. He would be a hero.
But the Earth wouldn't last long enough if he left. It would fall, almost immediately, to the hands of the Terrors once he left. He had to stay and protect it, until the Eagle brought back the freedom that could save them all.
So, he, America, would stay to face the Earth's slow destruction. Slowing it was one thing. Stopping it was another. He could slow it down for a while, but the Terrors were too powerful. They would eventually overrun him, just like Russia, and then the world would have been rebuilt into a living Hell.
The eagle spread its wide wings, and began its great flight into the sky. Raising its proud head, the eagle regarded America with a cynical eye. Well, are you going, or not? It seemed to ask him.
America couldn't help but crack a small smile. I will save the Earth, he thought. I'll do it. Not for the sake of myself…but for all of you.
I will protect you, all of you.
The eagle seemed to smile when it looked into America's now-confident eyes. It contained the pride of the young nation; after all, America had barely reached over a thousand years old. And he, the Eagle, George Washington, or the Liberty Bird, was proud of him. America had matured. He could do it.
The Eagle flapped higher into the clouds, a small device attach to its neck. Flying directly towards the sun, the Eagles' wings began to fold together, as if diving back towards the Earth. The device gave a shrill beeping sound, alerting the Eagle that he was close to his destination. Just a little longer, then he would be fast enough to do it.
His speed increasing, the Eagle flapped harder than ever, its wings beating effortlessly and allowing it to cross the sky with ease. Nothing could stop it now. The brave golden eyes of the Liberty Bird stared at the sun, defying the pain that it felt. Its wings hurt from the sun's now-hard rays, the pollution around the Eagle not helping.
The device suddenly uttered a spluttering noise, before the Eagle felt all of its pain melt away. Within the blink of an eye, the Eagle disappeared from sight, whisked away by a bright green light.
America smiled. He could trust the Liberty Bird; he could trust his best friend, George Washington. No matter what age it was, his first acclaimed Founding Father would always be watching over him, in the form of an eagle.
Standing up, America held his only weapon close to his chest. A single Desert Eagle wasn't going to be much against the attacking nations, but it would be able to distract them long enough for him to make a quick escape. Then he could make a plan on how to slow them down.
Lifting his Desert Eagle, America fired his first round in rapid succession, downing a charging soldier and wounding two others. Three Benlandian, or Bennish clones held their Plasma weapons, aiming them expertly at America's face. America dodged under cover just in the nick of time; the plasma flew right above him.
He jumped over the cover, dropkicking one of the Turkish-Spanish Terror's soldiers. The man fell to the ground, groaning, and America picked him up by the neck, using him as a body shield. The other soldiers seemed like they weren't going to fire, with one of their own blocking the way.
America grinned maniacally. He shot two other Benlandian clones with his Desert Eagle, before backing up and making a mad dash for it. He could hear the yowls of protest behind him getting softer and softer. He was escaping.
After what seemed like hours of full-on sprinting, America flopped onto the gory ground, panting hard. He couldn't hear anyone chasing after him. For now, he was safe to plan for his counterattack. That was, if any of his soldiers were left to defend the area…
Right now, he could only hope and pray that the Eagle had reached its destination. He could only hope, and wait, for it to bring back salvation to the corrupted Earth of the future.
Alice was just taking her daily nap when she heard something like an explosion in the distance. Startled, she jumped straight up, the hair on her neck standing up. What the heck? She thought. Did I just hear a freaking explosion, or am I deaf?
"Henry. Dammit, Henry, you fat oaf, wake up!" Alice snapped at her best friend. Henry groaned, blinking flecks out of his eyes and stared into Alice's milky brown eyes. His best friend just had to a grouchy Asian, he mused to himself. Always so prompt and punctual.
"What is it, Alice?" Henry pushed his wavy dark brown hair so it looked normal again. It kind of looked like Spain's hairstyle, he thought to himself. Having a bedhead around Alice always ended badly. She'd probably start petting it and make it look worse.
"Did you hear that huge sound outside?" she asked him.
"Eh?"
"So, you didn't?" Alice looked relieved. "My ears must be playing tricks on me."
"Um, Alice, I heard it."
The duo turned to see their other best friend, Thomas (or Tom), staring quizzically at them. "I heard it, loud and clear," he said. "It…was west."
"West from here," Alice confirmed grimly. "That was no gunshot."
"Damn straight," Henry muttered. "You've got to be joking me, right?"
"We're going to have to check it out," Tom told them. "I mean, it was nearby! Since we're at your house, Henry, we've got to see if everything's okay."
"Got it!" Henry suddenly bounced up. "Adventure time, let's go!"
"Hold up, what if it's dangerous?" Alice asked.
"Then you bring your boat paddle, Henry can bring his baseball bat, and I'll bring my BB gun."
"Deal."
The three friends trudged out of the clean house, all looking at ease and slightly bored. Only Tom was truly looking aggravated, but he tried not to show it. After all, he could never really trust his gut feeling!
"Hey, what's that?" Henry pointed at something in the distance. It looked like a bird.
"Holy shit, that's an eagle!"
Tom was right. Coming at full speed to the ground, an eagle going at only-God-knows miles per hour was heading straight for the ground.
"…Get out of the way," Alice said in her creepily calm way.
All three leapt out of the way, before ducking under some loose rubble. They braced themselves to hear a sickening splat, but none was heard.
Henry sneaked a peak from his cover. What he saw confused him.
The eagle was displayed flatly on the ground, as if dead, but no blood was around it. Its head was at an odd angle, but its eyes were still fully alive and twitching. In its talons was a ripped-up, ancient-looking letter.
Henry slowly walked up to the eagle, gently slipping the note out from its talons. It was surprisingly hard to get out; the eagle must have held it very tightly. Henry swore he saw the eagle twitch and give him a defiant glare.
The crumpled letter was yellow and aged, probably made decades ago. Something about it reeked death, Henry thought. He uncrumpled it and read it aloud, so Thomas and Alice could also hear.
"Nothing is infinite.
Science
Formula
Parallel circuits, your ego is charmed by a group of stars and breaks down
God save us from past present future, for 8 will flip
Anti the 8 HOLiC."
Henry stared at the yellow paper, his throat suddenly dry. The message was a subtle plea for help, he knew. It was too…heartbreaking, perhaps. He just knew it was asking for them to help them. But who was them, and where were they? Why?
"…Oh."
Henry turned to see Alice's eyes narrowed to slits. "The loop that closed the worshipped past is—"
"A transient single-lined circle finally burned and snapped." Tom finished her sentence, eyes darting around fearfully.
The Eagle stirred from its deathbed, wings suddenly unfurling and now as wide as Henry was tall. And Henry was quite a tall teen.
It opened its beak, and made a rasping sound that Alice heard as "The name of the forgotten world is…"
"Irrationality." Alice seemed to be in a trance.
"Anti the Infinite Holic." Tom said.
"Guys, what're you talking about?" Henry twitched uncomfortably.
The Eagle regarded them with a beady eye. You have been chosen, young ones, to carry out the task, its voice echoed in their heads.
"What task?" Henry blinked, shocked. Did the thing just speak to them? Telepathically, even?
Do not refuse. You cannot.
"Wh-what!"
It is your fault this has begun in the first place!
"Look, dude, this is getting weird!"
All three of you must solve the riddle of life. You must follow the trail of despair. You shall bring salvation to the world of new.
"…I don't understand…"
Monsters of deceit. You who have started it all, must end it. Your descendants have broken the loop of that worshipped past.
You, ancestors, will pay for it.
"Wait up! I'm really confused now!"
Listen carefully.
"I already am! Maybe not Tom or Alice, but for sure I am!"
Skeleton's lost gestures in the Americas of A end with an R
Leading to the cardverse's whisper
Sylvia, of the broken hearts;
Aaron, of the crying clubs;
Benjamin, of the warring spades;
Find who has begun
Who has ended
And bring back what has started.
The cards have been played
But the deck remains untouched
Which will you choose?
Tip the HAT
Follow the bleeding loop to your destination
Follow, follow, follow the Axis."
…
"Oh my God." Henry rubbed his neck nervously.
"Dear Lord." Alice was appalled.
"I-I-I-" Tom stuttered.
This is your journey. Find the Skeleton.
"Look, this…it's like the apocalypse!"
"What if it is?"
"Don't shove that stuff down my noggin, Tom! It's scary!"
"Shush, Alice, I'm already peeing my pants!"
The three friends squabbled, all of them scared out of their wits. None of them had been really into necrophilia or prophecies, but they were pretty sure that they'd heard one about a dead man calling for some sort of revenge. They were all young pre-teens, barely thirteen, so it was kind of obvious they weren't going to take it very seriously.
"Your heard them say Cardverse." Alice whispered. "Universe, only cardversed. Everything is turned to the equality of cards!"
"Hetalia! It's got to be Hetalia!"
"Impossible, since human nations can't exist."
"Pretty much. Let's go see if we can solve this riddle, though. It's better than spending the rest of the summer like this."
"Skeleton time?"
"Computer time, bros."
"Let's do this!"
While all the shenanigans were happening during the trio's time, America was still panting hard from the battle. Making up a plan with the little that he had left was nearly impossible. After all, the Terrors were coming closer each minute. Half of America had already been defeated.
Everyone had gathered in the West. East had been taken and separated into parts, just like England was. Each of the Terrors took one part and claimed it as their own, guarding it and using it as a base in case America decided to make a quick move. It was also perfect bait; America was growing tired and needed his Eastern part to survive correctly. Half of him had been taken over; of course his body was starting to feel the strain. He was still going to be the hero, of course! He wasn't going to let them take him away just like that. It was like the Civil War all over again.
"Sir! Svaestrian forces are coming from the south!"
America started, feeling his heart beat wildly. Svaestrian…Svaestria! One of the Terrors! She was already that close?
"God damn them! Okay, send the Fifth Platoon out to the Eastern border and flank! Break behind them by using Squadron Eight's missiles, we've got to get the helicopter to the tanks! Now!"
All hell broke loose as the Americans charged forward, intent on breaking the line of troops headed their way. Following America's exact orders, the soldiers fought back, taking the Germanic Terror by surprise. Although the flanking situation was working well, Benlandian forces were not far behind.
"It was just a decoy, shit! Bring back the fucking heli, we've got to get Squad Seven into there! Switch, switch!" America called.
Everything was going according to plan. Just take a few deep breaths, America told himself. Calm down. They'll have to retreat at this rate. Even though they've got the advantage, they don't have enough resources…for the next month, at least. He could do it.
He could try, at least…
End of first chapter. Aughhhh yes this contains fake countries! They'll be pretty important later on so pay attention to the names! You'll be hearing from Iggy next chapter, so stay tuned! 8D
Signing out with a fail, Rainy!
Please review. ;A; And sorry for terrible grammar. This mainly revolves around America and England, past present future, based on my *warped and changed* view on the song that's all over the place on tumblr. Anti the infinite Holic, USUK styled. XD
