America groaned and fell backwards in agony. He looked up through blurry, dim eyes. A man stood over him, a man in a rumpled gray uniform. He was smiling.
"I have to say, America. You didn't put up much of a fight. I was sort of expecting to have to exert myself." He ground a boot-heel into America's face. "But I suppose that you didn't have it in you." America coughed and tried to move, but his twin brother, South, only stomped again.
"Confederacy, you won. There's no need for that." Britain grimly put a hand on Confederacy's shoulder.
"Oui, he's lost. You won. Enough." France appeared on the other side and scowled.
Confederacy bent down. Still clenched in America's fist were a pair of glasses. He wrenched them from the injured nation's grasp and unfolded them. "Well, Yankee, it seems that I'm independent." he slid the glasses, Texas, onto his face and turned to leave.
"I won't allow it!" America jumped up and leveled his rifle at Confederacy. As the newly independent nation turned in surprise, America charged.
A pair of rifles crossed in front of him, and America's bayonet glanced off. The rifles were wielded by Britain and France. "This is so fitting, it's almost funny," Britain spat. "Remind you of something, America?"
America had fallen to his knees and dropped his rifle. "Why?" he asked his twin. "Wh-why?" His 'hero' act was gone, and he was close to breaking into tears.
Confederacy said nothing, but looked a bit uncomfortable. Britain and France, on the other hand, were not as mute.
"America, you are unlawfully attacking a sovereign, independent nation. This is an act of aggression. To do so would be against international law..."
Confederacy wasn't listening to the two European powers blather on. He stared at his disgraced brother, in a mixture of regret and shock. He had done it. He was independent. But at what cost?