Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
"America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter, and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves." - Abraham Lincoln
Prologue
Freedom…
Just a word.
Justice…
No good deed goes unpunished.
Equality…
I've been a slave to them all.
I'm the Hero…
I was a fool.
Alfred F. Jones, otherwise known as the United States of America, stood atop the grassy hill, letting the light breeze sweep over him while he enjoyed a moment this moment of solitude. It felt so peaceful. Quiet and calm, like nothing was really going on in this hellhole of a world. America wondered if he should just stay here, just fall back, lie down on the grass, and watch the clouds go by. His economy was finally getting stable, the people were beginning to prosper again. Sure, it had taken a long time and a few bloodbaths along the way, but he had regained his place as one of the world's Great Powers. Okay, he had to share the top tier with China and India now, but was that really so bad? He had not always been the strongest nation, so why not let someone else take the role for a while? Let someone else be the World's Policeman, defender of peace and stability. Was that not something to consider?
America chuckled and shook his head, dispelling such wistful fancy. Wistful fancy? Wow, that sounded so British. What was a better way of putting that? Wistful thinking? Wishful thinking? Yeah, that was it, wishful thinking. No wishful thinking for him. No, that would just not do. The idea was tempting, but America was not one to shirk his responsibilities. The world they all lived in was his creation, shaped by his own blood, sweat, and tears. America owed it to everyone to see his plan through.
He let his gaze fall down on the army battalions below, drilling in perfect order. A proud smile spread across his face. They were the ones whom he relied on; they would propel him to greatness once more. No, they would enable him to surpass his former glory, glory that his days as the sole super power would never have even dreamed of achieving. With them he would become more, and spread his vision across the world.
He had spent decades wanting this, craving this secret desire like a life-long dream just out of reach, but only now having the courage to act. Realism replaced the naiveté of the 20th century. America knew he could not go in half-cocked anymore like some Cold War escapade. So he had prepared. Slowly, ever so slowly. So slow he came close to blowing the whole thing thanks to his own impatient desire to set the whole thing off at once. Why was waiting so damn hard?
America held himself in check though, he gathered himself together. Proving, if nothing else, that he was no longer an 'impudent youth' as England liked to call him. If anything good had come from his downfall as the world's mightiest nation it was that no one really paid too much attention to him anymore. Oh, that America, just doing his own thing over there, nothing important. As much as that tore at his very soul, it served his new purpose well enough. Now he had an army that would rival China's in a few more years. America tried to imagine what the old Asian nation's expression would be if he ever found this out the hard way before shaking his head again, once more expelling such wishful thinking. Those were not the kind of thoughts someone with his dreams for the world should be having.
If everything worked out the way he planned, it would not come to that. No need for blood and terror and death. Spreading his vision across the world should be a glorious time in history. The nations should be flocking to America's banner, eager to be one with him. The last thing he wanted was to pull a Russia, grabbing his nearest neighbors and pronouncing them his new 'comrades'. Once he made his intentions clear the others without a doubt would bow to reason and join him. All they needed was a little persuasion and an example of what he could do now.
No, violence was not the answer and would not be his first options in fulfilling his new Manifest Destiny.
The threat of violence on the other hand…
America turned from the thousands of soldier ahead and jogged down the hill's dirt path. His destination, the military camp he had made his temporary home, was ten minutes on foot. Not that America minded the exercise, just a little warm up for the real game coming up. A game that was about to start right now.
America dug his phone from of his pocket and hit dialed up China. He got the voicemail. America put on his usual cheery and bombastic voice.
"Hey, China? It's America, call me back ASAP, okay? I think it's time we settled this issue about Taiwan."
This time America allowed himself to relish the mental image of China tripping over himself when he heard the message. That would be sure to get him running. He laughed, half from the expected reaction and half to quell his own uneasiness. Was America confident his plan would work? Without a doubt. Did that make the twisting in his stomach lessen in intensity? Not by much. Years of plotting all hinged on what China would do these next couple of days. If America could not guide him on the path he wanted him to go down that it would all be for nothing. On the other hand, if everything involving China did go according to plan then it would be smooth sailing from there on out.
America grinned. The world would soon be as good as his.
That's the prologue anyway? Like it so far? Review if you do! Don't like it at all? Review anyway! You're awesome if you do!