Every speck of land was burning, spitting gnarled plumes of black smoke into the sky before spreading, searching, devouring again. "F-fuck…..I was supposed…to be the hero….." America stumbled forward, and took shelter in the dark, glowing bones of a building. At one time, an apartment complex. He sat in the center of the room, his now bony, famished frame forming a strange, angular shape that was completely unlike his previous, powerful state. He looked around his war-torn home, a hellish, unrecognizable landscape that was once New York City. It was only ash now, the one form of life left being the glowing embers. Many times had his boss sent him to war elsewhere, but it hadn't been since the Revolutionary war since the fight was on his own soil. All the people who filled his house were long since dead. Worse, the allies, HIS allies, had fallen. The whole world had fallen. "Fuck…Fuck! Fuck!" His voice rose to a shout before cracking from thirst and becoming a dry cough. He knew he'd die soon, one way or another. He had already watched as everyone he knew slowly slipped away. And he felt so fucking terrible. "I guess….It's a fitting end for a bloodthirsty hero….." America looked up. Even though the sun had long since risen, the sky was black from the smoke of the cities burning globally. "I….I never should have agreed to use the atom bombs on Japan...maybe Japan would still be alive today…Maybe, the others would still be here too…..Maybe everything could have been….okay…" He smiled, and then frowned. It would never have been okay. Someone would have been hurting anyway. Someone in a desolate place. Someone as lonely as he was now. Everyone was gone. And he was next. "If Britain was here, he'd like totally lecture me for sure…" He smiled. "I can already hear him…..yelling now….."
And the falling ashes formed a willowy, angular pile in the center of the room.