So this is my first multichaptered story for Hetalia. Don't be fooled by the length, this is only the prologue. The chapters will be roughly 3000 words long. It will also be at least ten days until this is updated again merely because I have midterms coming up and am outlining another story with a friend.

Disclaimer: This applies to all chapters of this story. I do not own Hetalia and am not making money from this.

He was running again, gun clutched in his hands. The sound of his feet hitting the muddy, blood covered ground was completely drowned out by the sounds of battle. His entire group had been killed the moment they had gone over the trenches. Now, his only hope of survival was that he would make it back to his little hole in the ground in time.

It was a sunny day with skies so blue that if he looked up, it was as if there wasn't a battle going on below them. He nearly stumbled over a body and coughed to keep the bile down in his stomach where it belonged. Even after years of finding himself in such situations, he had never truly gotten used to seeing parts of what used to be another man scattered about on the ground as if they were a child's playthings. Deep down, he feared what would happen to him if he did.

The trench was almost in reach now. Just a few more feet and he would be home free. Then he could close his eyes for a few minutes and pretend that he didn't hear the screams of men dying and the crack of gunfire. A tug stopped him. There on the ground was a man on his side staring up at him with desperate eyes. The stranger was seriously injured, with the lower half of his right leg completely gone. From the amount of blood seeping out of the wound, it was obvious that the man wouldn't last long enough for the medics to get to him. This was obvious to the soldier as well, judging by his pleading eyes.

So he crouched down and threw the man's arm over his shoulder. Ignoring the man's screams of agony, he hauled him roughly to his feet.

"It's okay. Just grit your teeth and bear with it. I've got you," he said though it was not likely the other man could hear him.

Together they began to limp the last ten or so feet to the trench. They almost made it too. It was the stiffening of the injured man that first caught his attention. His back was arched forward and a dark red spot began to stain his chest area.

He sighed. It was another person that he couldn't save. He gently lowered the dying man to the ground and without looking back once, he continued towards the trench. Something struck his back with the force of a hammer leaving a burning pain trail through his body. It was followed by many other strikes, hot pokers thrusting through his body with a harsh twist. He gasped, but it was already too late. He was already falling to his knees.

As the light of the world began to fade around him, he felt no fear of what was happening to him. Instead he was scared of where he was going. Alfred let his eyes fall closed. This was probably about the fifth time that he had been shot to death. He let out his last breath and felt his heart stop.

It was cold. It always was and Alfred knew what would meet his eyes when he opened them. So instead he allowed himself to lie there, savouring the last bit of life's warmth before he had to face reality. Soon, too soon he felt the soft brushes of dampness against his cheek. He opened his eyes to see that the grey mists were caressing his body.

Alfred batted them away carelessly, not yet needing their cursed comforts. He had to find it. Alfred hauled himself to his feet, finding that his joints no longer ached. That was normal. He had no physical body here, but he still felt the mists and their ice cold touches. They made sure of it. Just like they would make sure to replay his most recent memories whenever they got a chance.

Alfred hunched over as he walked, shivering. As always, it looked the same in every direction. Alfred probably would never be able to find what he needed if this place was infinite. He almost wanted it to be. That way he wouldn't feel so trapped.

He hit the wall of his little bubble of reality and began to trace his hand along it. Alfred caught a gleam out of the corner of his eye. He turned and there it was. The shimmering portal. He placed a hand against it and felt the warmth of life begin to gently flow into him. Alfred saw tried to look into it to see where the portal was located. Only darkness stared back. The brief hope that had flared up in his chest died, but he had to admit that it was unlikely that a suitable candidate was on the other side just staring back at him. Usually it took months for someone he could use to approach the mirror.

He tilted his head forward until his forehead fell against the warm surface. Allowing his body to slide to the ground, Alfred curled up against the mirror. He didn't know at the time, but his hope would take almost a century.

So... please review?