A.N.: As always, I intend to finish this, but may not. This chapter has a lot of scene setting, which will occur for a while. The back stories are very elaborate and complicated, and I do seek to put these online seperately... Once one is finished. The main story is, however, the priority. Where you see *~'Pagebreak'~* this means that the part of the story has changed. There are lots of plotlines in this which do all link up, although some do not for a long time. Those which I do not consider 'backstory' run beside each other in these chapters. Arthur and Yao's stories are the main ones, although there are also plots at least five other plots (only three at this point, and only one mentioned in this chapter). These will appear in chapters when something happens in the same time frame as Arthur and Yao's plots - this chapter has Denmark and Iceland (Matthias and Erik), for example. Hopefully it won't be too confusing, as I can't seperate the out into seperate stories without loosing the over-plotline.

See any mistakes, please let me know. Also if I forget anything.

This has been disclaimed. No more disclaimers of rating advice will appear. The idea, and two rarely-mentioned-but-need-to-be-there characters are mine, along with side characters. All Hetalia characters have proper roles if they appear at all.

Rated for: violence, slavery, nuclear warfare, cussing, death (mentioned and intergral), splitting up of siblings, FACE co-habitation (Not yet), depressing-ness, mild(ish) gore, sexual references, lack of the USA (as an entity), evil governments and fae folk. Have I missed anything... Err... France, teen!Prussia, chibi!nations (selected), semi-illegal activities by the protagonists, illegal activites by the antagonists & governments, Canada (the place) being erased from record due to politcal issues, USA (the place) being erased from the planet by nukes. Think that's all, now.

Genres: family, sci-fi, adventure, fantasy, hurt/comfort, angst, friendship, drama, suspense, mystery, crme, spiritual, super natural... Everything but humour (a few elements of, but not overly), western (seriously, I have sci-fi and fantasy already), tragedy (I mean,there's death, but the back stories fit this better), poetry (okay, so no promises. I might dabble), general (it's got other genres), romance (can't write this for toffee... Pre-existing SuFin and Austria/Hungary, and past GermaniaXOC, Ancient EgyptXOC and RomeXOC [would not use OCs, but I needed women]) and parody (the story is my all own work, bar the characters).

Oh, and pardon my American, I'm English. Same goes for my Icelandic, German and any other languages I travel into.

Now that's done, please enjoy.


Arthur was, by no means, a man to be ruled by emotions. A man of 37, although not looking a day over 23 thanks to advances in anti-aging technology. He had left university 13 years ago, with an honours in Medicine. 15 years ago, he had become the sole provider for his then baby brother, Peter thanks to the global execution of all adults over the age of 50 (illegal under so many counts it was impossible to number them, but made legal by every country doing it, all at once). 7 years ago, his eight year old brother was forcibly taken from his school, along with almost all of the other children in attendance. Those who were not taken, and all of the teachers, were shot on the spot. Very few of these survived the night, and fewer still without serious repercussions for their mental and physical health. Those who were taken, sold to others. Under the leadership of the professor who had funded his degree, and whose family had been victims of the attack, the parents, elder siblings and other relatives of the victims formed an alliance with only one aim – to see the end of legal slavery once and for all. To get back the missing children a currently unachieved secondary aim, as was finding somewhere safer to work from and saving as many as they could afford to. The professor and her assistant ran the operations, whilst between three and nine members of the group acted upon their orders. Behind them, a support network of other members, their families and their slaves was created – the number ever-growing as more of the children were bought back from their owners. Arthur was the man with the fewest slaves of his own – numbering only two, brothers by the names of Bruce and Mackenzie – excluding Feliks and Vash, whom had only just that month reached adulthood. A small village was created for the support network – fully functioning and seemingly fully legal, all under the watchful eye of Professor Beilschmitt. In it were a sweet shop, a Church, a hospital, a library and the other necessary amenities – plus those that make life more pleasant. All that was missing were a lawyer and some of the less reputable businesses, unsuitable in a town created solely for the defence of people. And easy to defend it was – the site had been chose with defence in mind. It was not perfect, but the best that could be managed in a world that hated them.


The date was 8th May, 2078 – the date which had been selected for the season's mission.

And so, Arthur Kirkland was lead to the dirty back-streets of London, mind brooding over the past, the future and the idiot who had told him the shop he was supposed to be investigating was still open. In his brooding, he failed to notice an obstacle in front of him, walking straight into it.

"My apologies," his polite instinct kicked in, before looking to see a boy who had curled himself up on the floor, shivering slightly. The boy was generally filthy, although some attempt had been made to clean him up, leaving smears on his face. His hair looked as though it should be blonde, and he wore a once-white shift. Across his body were what Arthur's trained eyes identified as once-severe, now partially-healed burns. His eyes narrowed as he saw some bleeding.

"Hey," the boy looked up, a strained grin on his face. A pair of bright blue eyes met Arthur's own green ones, which softened slightly.

"What did you say, child?"

Shaking, the boy stood up and bowed to him, "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to get in your way."

"And so you should be, getting in my way like that." For some reason, the boy seemed to relax slightly at the words, before coughing harshly. At the motion the boy winced, before glancing around nervously. Still he kept his head bowed, but started to grin sheepishly. As the boy reached up to his face, Arthur noted the scores engraved into his arm. Now things made more sense…

"Excuse him, sir. He doesn't know his place yet." Arthur looked up to see a well-built man in a suit clamping a hand down on the boy's shoulder.

Immediately, Arthur recognised the badge on his lapel linking him to a chain disreputable of owners.

"Quite so," Arthur looked down at the boy, who was shivering even more under the pressure of the man's hand, "But I would be intrigued to know, how much for such an insolent one?"

Arthur could see the man's mind working as his face broke into a sly grin, and the boy looked up, surprise written on his face, "£74 per evening, or if you would rather not return him in one piece, £7500 for a more… permanent… agreement."

"£7450," Arthur's eyes narrowed at the price, but he had to come home with something… Even if his boss was an idiot, thinking this could ever work… A country which had survived the recession with-out the slave tax? And bordering the once-mighty, now non-existent, US of A? Impossible. Not even the fae-folk had heard of it. They would never find this fantasy land, and never save the world. But, the least he could do was save as many as he could…

"£7490."

"£7480."

"Deal. Payment to…" the muscular man started.

"I'll pay now. In cash," Arthur looked the man in the eye, who smiled smugly in response.

"Of course."

The blonde handed over the money at the same moment as the boy was thrown at him.

"Stand up, child."

The boy hurriedly did so, but seemed to slip slightly, dropping back to his knees for a moment, before standing, grin still forced on his face.
Arthur took his wrist, more carefully than it looked, and walked away. As they walked, he watched from the corner of his eye as the boy stumbled beside him.

Behind them, the 'trader' smirked to himself, clicking quickly on an old phone.


*~'Page Break'~*


Yao, or Wang Yao if we are to be correct, was a very busy man. He lived with six children alone – five of them pre-teens. He was their master, but also tried to make the household as close to a family as he could – with him as the elder brother. He was in his late forties, but looked about 20. Three of the children had been left with disabilities severe enough to hinder their futures after their school was attacked by rouge slave-traders. Like Arthur Kirkland, he lived in the village created for people working with the aim of ending legal slavery. He also held the same position when on mission, as one of the people who had been doing the physical work for the longest. His 'day job', so to speak, was making sure the newest children to the village were caught up to speed on school work as quickly as possible. If those two duties were not enough work, he also taught history at the school all six of the children he lived with attended. He tutted, tapping his hand on the steering wheel. His eldest brother, Kiku, was away giving assistance to a couple they once knew, in Wales of all places.

Standing next to him was the enigma known only as Feliks. The blonde male had recently turned 16. Although nobody else knew much about him, Professor Beilschmitt had been very happy to let him onto the team doing the main work. The other new addition was Vash – much less of an enigma, being the gun-wielding, camper-van driving elder brother of one of the kidnapped children. Nobody in their right mind would ever cross the man. Feliks, on the other hand, had no skills which anyone could make out, had no reason to feel strongly about the matters and seemed better suited to running a clothes shop (which was his other job, admittedly) than any sort of physical labour. The pink mini-dress didn't help either.

"So, I was, like, thinking that you'd look totally cute in this red jacket I found."

"I am not interested," Yao explained, taking care not to crash. Which lead to the other problem – Feliks had lost his driving license not three days after receiving it. "You remember what we are doing?"

"Like, yeah," he was fiddling with his nails, holding his hands up to the light.

"I'll go first, aru. You follow me after 20 minutes. We're supposed to be investigating floor nine today – ask for that when they ask for specifics. You have the money?"

"Yeah," he looked up from his nails, "So let's, like, go!"

Rolling his eyes, and parking the VW campervan the two had been travelling, Yao muttered about the younger man not paying attention. They both got out, and looked up at the building. It was an old warehouse, a relic from nearly two hundred years prior. All of the windows were blacked out, and artificial lights crept around the edges. The bricks were red, although had long been coated by soot. Behind the black-out blinds, the windows were barred. Feliks made some comment about it being ugly, whilst Yao looked around for anyone else nearby. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a blonde street child watching them. The boy could not have been older than eight, and he was gazing at them above a tightly tied scarf. His hands were grasping the metal post he was hiding behind. The Asian man made a mental note to see if the child was still there went they finished – and, if so, to speak to him.

He turned to Feliks, who was kicking the pavement, "Don't do anything stupid, aru."

"20 minutes, right?" Feliks asked, "And, like, 'course not. I'm not some ditzy blonde."

Yao would have liked to argue the point, but decided that starting the job would be a more effective use of his time. He locked the car, and started towards the imposing building.


*~Page break~*


A tall man with wild blonde hair stood at the back of the Chapel. His name was Matthias, the bartender There had not been a priest or minister for since the faithful day 7 years ago, although anyone was free to come and pay their respects. At the altar knelt another blonde, younger than the first, hair pin in his hand. He was dressed in a formal shirt and trousers, and his head was bowed low.

Quietly, Matthias approached him. As he did so, the other blonde stood, and turned to face him.

"Emil," Matthias nodded his head.

Emil nodded in response.

Matthias placed one hand around that with the hair pin in it.

"Seven years," frowned.

"We'll find him," Matthias forced a grin.

"Heimskur," Emil forced his hand away, leaving the ancient building.

Matthias let his face fall as the boy left, he shook his head, "Lukas…" he whispered under his breath, "Where did you go?"