The Will To Power
Prologue
Summation: England/America- AU where America loses the war of Independence. Washington is hanged, and England tries to reconnect with his colony. Earlier chapters more Dark!Ficish, hopefully will get more fluffy. Also will show the impact of the failed American Revolution on a global scale.
Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia and do not profit in any way from this.
Warning: Is Sadness a warning? Cause damn this chapter makes me sad.
A/N: Another de-anon to a story that I got knocked off track of. Still gonna try to finish it since I still have all the notes for it. x.x
"...the will to grow, spread, seize, become predominant - not from any morality or immorality but because it is living and because life simply is will to power..." - Paraphrased from the works of Friedrich Nietzsche
He hadn't cried when the older nation disarmed him, knocking him senseless during a battle he had been so sure of winning.
He hadn't cried when he had been told the fate of his continental army, the British Empire was not known for tolerating rebellion.
He hadn't cried when he'd been chained alone in the barracks, awaiting the sentencing of his fellow 'rebel leaders'.
Then came the day George Washington was to be executed. The judgment had been that they weren't deserving of liberty, but plenty deserving of death.
The sun had been shining brightly in the azure sky that day, seeming to mock all that he and his people had fought for, an eternal reminder of the freedom they had been so close to grasping.
He had screamed and thrashed against the soldiers who escorted him to the square, the Empire himself had to help restrain the young colony from attempting to save the man who would have seen him become a country - a democracy.
Even dressed in the tatters of his uniform, the General held his head as high as any king's. As the man walked towards his fate, the unwilling spectator barely registered his eyes widening, already starting to feel the panic born of helplessness.
It was only when he heard the creaking of the gallows drop, soon overshadowed by the expected gasps and heartless cheers from the crowd, that Alfred F. Jones cried.
