The sound of coffee beans grinding soothed my nerves. The steam from the hot water seeped into my body and loosened the tense muscles as I impatiently paced the floor. I didn't completely calm down until the liquid was poured into a cup and put right where it belonged. I grit my teeth as the first sip scalded my throat and tongue. "Serves you right," I muttered to myself before emptying the mug in one gulp, ignoring the signs of protests my body was sending me. I filled the cup again with a sigh.

Iceland had stormed out on me again. Even though he had left an hour ago the bang of the door slamming shut still rang in my skull, bouncing of its inner walls like an echo trapped in a cave. I knew I had gone over the line. I saw it in his eyes. Some people would have mistaken it for pure, raw anger, but having known him for decades made it clear as a midsummer's day that under the façade he felt betrayed and hurt. And that made me feel miserable. In the heat of the moment I hadn't been able to stop myself, just as he couldn't either.

I looked into my mug, watching as the black liquid moved back and forth due to my incapability of keeping my hand steady. A split seconds decision had me put the cup away and fetch the vodka. I knew Finland kept a supply in each of our houses, it being irrelevant if he was a frequent visitor or not. It didn't take too long for me to locate his hiding place and pull out a bottle alcohol, but an even shorter amount of time to get back to my coffee. A splash from the bottle later and I had the mug back in my hands.

"Karsk, huh. Haven't seen you drink that for quite a while now."

I didn't need to turn my head to know who stood in the doorway of my kitchen.

"You idiot. Go away," I said, closing my eyes wearily. My retort was so half-hearted and pathetic that it came as no surprise when Denmark only chuckled in response. "You know, you need sugar in that if you want it to taste correctly," he motioned to the drink in my hands as he strode past me to rummage through my cupboards. I put my head in my hands. "I don't need sugar, Den," I muttered.

"Oh, it seems like you do," he grinned over his shoulder before continuing his search. "No, Denmark stop. I don't want any sugar." Denmark hesitated a bit, his hand hovering over the sugar bowl. "As you say, Nor." If I said I wasn't a bit surprised by his willingness to surrender I would be lying but my weary mind didn't think too much of it. He took a seat next to me and reached for the vodka bottle and took a swig out of it.

"Oh, yeah! That's the stuff," he said. "Doesn't compare to beer but I'll take this any day."

I finished my own cup and we sat in relative silence until all the coffee I'd made and almost half the vodka bottle was gone

"Denmark, what are you doing here?" I asked harshly. I was used to Denmark dropping by randomly but he had specifically gone out of his way to call earlier and tell me he'd be with the Netherlands over the weekend. Like he suspected I'd be anxiously waiting for his arrival. If he thought that, then he really needed to get his brain checked.

"Ice called," he said simply. "He went home. He's probably at the airport as we speak."

I sighed. "So childish. As-"

"No, you don't get to call him childish."

His strict tone took me completely by surprise. It was a tone of a disappointed parent, a tone usually only used on misbehaving children, and a tone I very much disliked while directed at me. I could feel the familiar spark of irritation in the pit of my stomach, and was about to speak up when Denmark pointed his gaze to me again.

"Iceland had every right to walk out. This is all on you." His voice was accusing. Cold even.

I closed my eyes and sighed, deliberately ignoring his statement as I knew for a fact that he was a hundred percent correct. There and then, right at that moment, I really wanted him out of there, his presence becoming only a painful reminder of my screw up that was already too fresh in my mind. "Why are you here," I said dully, in hopes of changing the subject to something less depressing. "I thought you had plans with the Netherlands."

"That was my cover," Denmark replied casually, his hands keeping busy by pushing a coin around the table. His eyes were trained on the tree branches that swung peacefully outside the window as he spoke. "We were actually planning a surprise party for you." His gaze moved back to me, a small smile grazing his lips. "Happy birthday, man."

That bastard. I could tell he was still upset with me, but the look in his eyes spoke of forgiveness and even had the tiniest spark of deviousness. But with that, Denmark had closed the door to his limited supply of 'angry with my family members' faces. Unfortunately, this was sprinkled with his usual dose of alienation. Denmark had a lot of qualities that annoyed me greatly, but the fact that he only ever stayed angry long enough to let the others know he was upset with them, was definitely one of his better ones. I could handle the small revenge.

I stood up from my seat and placed my mug in the sink. I'd have to remember to stop by later and wash it. Denmark watched me quizzically as I fetched my jacket and whipped it on.

"Where are you going?" he asked me.

I ignored him in favour of stealing one of Ice's books. If he was here he'd protest greatly, but I knew he wouldn't mind next time we'd meet here. Maybe I'd even manage to return it before he noticed it was missing.

"Norway, where are you going?"

"Home."

"Uhh," Denmark breathed out, his hand running through his hair, "I wouldn't do that quite so early."

I turned to face him with a blank look. "And why is that?"

Denmark flashed me a big grin. "Sweden and Finland are, kinda, taking down decorations," he laughed quietly, "figured it wouldn't be that much fun to have a party right now."

I sighed. The last thing I wanted to do was face the accusations of the rest of my family. I could just picture the two of them train their eyes on me as I'd open the door. Finland, with a smile as usual, but his eyes holding disappointment and sadness. He'd welcome me home, probably even offer me a slice of the cake he had made the day before but he'd be tense and awkward. Sweden would fix his glasses and avoid direct eye contact. A treatment I'd seen many times, but very seldom was it directed at me. Neither of them would voice their opinions, but I knew them well enough to notice the signs. No, I'd rather let this blow over.

I tentatively took my jacket off and hung it on the chair I'd occupied earlier.

Denmark smiled brightly. "Guess it's just going to be the two of us tonight," he said with a wink. "We could watch-"

"I'm picking the movie," I said before he could finish.

"Aw, but Norge," he whined, "I was going to pick."

I shrugged. "You snooze, you lose."

The next day I found myself sat in a chair by the window, a book in hand. The TV was on in the other room and, much to my irritation, I could clearly hear the snores coming from Denmark who had yet to wake up. I tuned the noise out and flipped the page, trying to focus on the hazy sentences that stirred up old memories. As we were in Iceland's apartment most of his books were in Icelandic. The words were familiar but I was a bit rusty. I squirmed uncomfortable in my chair, repeatedly changing positions. But I just didn't seem to be able to relax my muscles enough to get comfortable. In the end I gave up and put the book back into its place on the bookshelf. I walked past the living room and into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee.

With the coffee warm in my hands I headed back to my chair, but the sound of the TV cutting off halted my actions. Behind the reading chair, the lamp started to flicker and eventually died out. From the complete silence that had embraced the apartment it seemed that the fridge had also powered out.

"A blackout," I muttered. "Great."

I waited in place for about two minutes before the backup generator kicked in. I nodded to myself in satisfaction as the lamp turned on again, silently thanking Sweden for advising me against throwing it out. As it was July I wasn't particularly concerned about the darkness but I'd rather the food stay fresh during the time it takes for the electricity to come back on. That combined with the fact that I just couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in my gut had me stressed to the max and I wanted nothing more than to call in an early day. Just as I bent over the chair to turn off the lamp I noticed that the low chatter that had been on TV for about an hour now had turned into static. The noise didn't seem to affect Denmark at all, judging be the snoring, so in irritation I found my way into the living room and fished the remote control out from under Denmark. When I flipped through the channels all there seemed to be broadcasted was static.

"Hey, Denmark? I…" A loud rumble drowned out my voice. The floor started shaking violently and I had to fight to regain my balance. The books started falling from their cases, frames fell from the wall and smashed into the ground. I jumped hurriedly out of the way as the TV came crashing down from its place on the wall. Dust shook up the air, forcing me to bring my hand up to conceal my mouth. And then, just as quickly as it had started, the shaking came to a stop.

My heart hammered in my chest as I stared shocked at the mess in front of me. "An earthquake?" I whispered shakily in between breaths. There hadn't been an earthquake in Norway for years. I scratched my head as I crouched to pick up a picture that stood in between the broken shards of the glass frame.

"Norway!?" Denmark asked hoarsely from behind me, peering through the dust, while coughing. "Denmark?!" I stuck the picture into my coat pocket without looking who occupied it and rushed to Denmark's side.

"Ugh, I'm okay, Nor. I'm okay," Denmark replied shakily from the couch. I hoisted him up and he leaned against my side. The smell of alcohol attacked my senses and I wrinkled my nose. "What… what happened?" he asked groggily, before yelping as he stepped on a glass piece from a bottle that had crashed from the table.

"Don't move so much, you idiot," I snapped at him as he jumped on one foot, cradling the other with a whine. "There's a lot of glass on the floor. You'll just cut yourself again by doing that." I muttered. I moved him away from the table, where most of the shards lay in their innocence, and lowered him down onto the floor in the corner of the room. I told him to wait as I went to rummage Ice's cabinets for a Band-Aid.

The bathroom didn't look too bad compared to the living room. The only thing that seemed to have fallen from its place was a towel that lay on top of the toilet instead on the shelf above it. The cabinets however were completely trashed. Ice would, with no doubt, blame me for all this chaos. The thought of my brother stubbornly yelling at me, for natural disasters I have no control over, was almost enough to give me a headache. I'd make Sweden clean this up before Ice could even conjure up the thought of coming over. Most normal human beings wouldn't really appreciate people ordering them to clean but Sweden wouldn't complain. He rather enjoyed taking care of other people's homes. I snorted at the thought that the next time Iceland would come to his apartment he'd probably recognize it as one of the many inspiration rooms in IKEA.

"Norway?" Denmark groaned from the living room.

"Mhm?" I replied as I grabbed a Band-Aid from under about a dozen toothbrushes. How many toothbrushes did Iceland need, anyway. I thought one was usually enough.

"Can you stop the drums? I'm getting a headache," Denmark whined as I came up to him with the bandage.

Drums? I couldn't hear any drums. When I voiced that fact Denmark gripped his head tightly. "They're so loud, Norge!" he whined. I shushed him and listened closer. After a little while, I started hearing a faint sound, repeated over and over. Slow. Heavy.

Dunk. Dunk. Dunk.

It was moving. As it got closer I could start feeling the earth vibrate faintly. The glass jumped slightly with each thunk. The windows rattled. A book that had stubbornly managed to stay in place fell down. I could hear my people screaming outside. I could hear their boots collide with the pavement as they ran in fright. And I could feel their terror in my veins. It was all I could do to push it back, to not let it take over as I slowly moved to the window. There were no explosions nor gunshots so I ruled out an invasion. There were also no cries from animals. The only thing to be heard was the steady thunks and the screams of the people.

The fright of my whole country was raging like a roaring fire inside me, making my moves sluggish and slow. Their emotions rushed through my veins with intensity I had never experienced before. They were absolutely terrified of what was going on outside. And it wasn't just Bergen that was facing this threat.

When I reached the window I froze in place. Right there, just walking past the apartment, was a giant. A creature, unlike anything I had ever seen before stood right in front of my window. It was easily ten meters high, its anatomy eerily similar to that of an oversized human. Legs and arms. Tangled locks of auburn hair. Eyes devoid of emotion. Devoid of the light that shone in the eyes of any normal human. Merciless and dull. And I was looking straight into them.

But it wasn't the eyes that sparked my fear. It was the smile. It stretched from ear to ear. A smile you'd only see on a psychopath. A smile that shook my bones to the core as my legs protested the commands of staying up straight. And it was the smile that made my knees buckle and give.

I was sure I was done for. All logic left my head as I stared into the smile of my killer. This was it. I let my eyes fall shut as the fear of my people washed over me and regrets flooded through my mind. My last conversation with my brother was an argument. I'd never get to eat Finland's cakes again. I'd never celebrate another year with my family. I'd never sail a ship again. I'd never get to swing a sword-

Suddenly my head cleared. I would not go down without a fight. If I was going to die, I'd die a warrior of the north. I'd earn my spot in Valhalla.

But I was too late. As the mist was almost dissipated from my thoughts I barely registered that Denmark was yelling something behind me. I opened my eyes and only to see the giant's fist flying towards me at full speed. If it hadn't been for Denmark I would have been dead. He lunged himself at me right as the hand breached the walls of the building, demolishing the wood in the process, creating a hole the size of a queen's bed. Together, Denmark and I tumbled into the room where I had previously been reading, stones and planks raining from the third story and into the living room where I had been only moments ago. The hand disappeared back out and it didn't reappear. The screams of my people got louder and more horrified

Denmark looked at me with anger. "You idiot! Do you want to get yourself killed!? You can't just freeze on me like that!"

I ignored him and stood up, running to the gap to see what was going on outside. What I saw was something I wished to never see again. The giant had stepped away from the window and was reaching for a man who was desperately clawing at a shop door. Behind the glass I could see the clerk tearfully shaking his head, sending a clear message; He wasn't going to open the door. The bloodcurdling scream was sharp as a knife as the giant picked the man up. The man kicked and screamed, tears flowing in streams from his eyes, but nothing seemed to loosen the giant's hold. With one swift jerk of his arm, the giant had thrown the man into his mouth.

I watched in complete horror as the giant swallowed the man whole and turned to find its next pray. Over the rooftops I could see other such giants roaming around. Picking up and eating people with the same nonchalance as humans picked up coins from the ground to put them in their pocket. There were so many of them. All with a horrifying smile similar to the one I'd encountered first.

I didn't know how long I'd been standing in the broken wall, just watching as men, women, kids and elders alike got killed. Trampled and eaten. Some were eaten whole. Others had only lost a leg or an arm. And a few lay in a pool of their own blood, unable to get up as a giant had taken everything below the waist.

I didn't feel Denmark's hand on my shoulder. I was too numb. But the Dane pulled me into the apartment, mumbling that it was too dangerous to stand out in the open like that.

I felt so hopeless. The feeling surged through me and tugged at unwanted memories from the middle ages as my people died from plagues in their beds. Memories from wars. Hangings. Beheadings. The same sense of uselessness that had surrounded me then stung just as deeply now. Except now the people were being eaten alive. My nation was being devoured. Until now, I had never felt sorry for my pray as I hunted in the woods. But seeing as humans were no longer at the top of the food-chain, I was starting to understand how it felt to be hunted.

A/n: Phew! That was relieving. The best thing to cure writer's block is to try writing something new and fresh. Anyway, I liked what I was writing and hopefully, if you're reading this, you did too ^^ Anyway, this story is going to be Hetalia blended into the Attack on titan concept. It's my take on how the titans came to be and so I'm taking creative license of some things, that I hope people won't be too mad at being... altered a tiniest bit to fit my idea. But you do not have to have watched the show (attack on titan) or read the manga to be able to read this story, because I'm finding my own answers to some of the unanswered questions about the beginning of the end.

... ugh, I think this A/n is getting confusing. Anyway, ignore me. If you liked the beginning, by all means, keep following what comes next ^^

Looking forward to exploring new territories with you :D

~Dala