Brood, a hetalia - axis powers fanfic

Brood

It had been years— millions of them— since Ivan had genuinely loved someone. That love had died along with the Earth eons ago, when overpopulation, pollution, and natural forces gave birth to the Third World state of the planet. Ivan remembered the decline very well. Disagreements over water supply among various countries lead to the catastrophic World War V, and the outcome sent the economies around the entire world spiraling downwards. Eventually, the Earth fell to ruins, and those who were left took off to space stations to rebuild their countries as far away from dead planet as they could.

Of course, Ivan would willingly gut and choke himself with his entrails before he ever admit to having hope for the human race, but there was always a small— miniscule— little thought in the cobwebbed recesses of his mind that maybe there would someday be world peace. That someday he and his fallen sisters would be able to attend a meeting without him faking smiles. But of course, Ivan would have rather thrown himself into the crushing vacuum of space than admit he ever loved his sisters.

And so here he was, alone in the space station that he was supposed to raise as his country. It had been that way centuries now, Ivan having beaten everyone to death long ago. He'd hated their voices, always speaking of hope. Always speaking of Ivan's former glory as a country. Always speaking of memories.

"Rise again!"

Ivan knew that it was the destiny of a country with no people to fade off into memory, but he didn't care anymore. There weren't anymore countries to cower before him in fear, there weren't anymore turn to him for an alliance, and there weren't anymore to even document his failure as a born-again, interstellar, country. Perhaps worst of all, though he rather bash his head against the wall until his skull was shattered and his head a mangled mess of blood and flesh than admit it, there weren't any more countries to turn to when the world had driven him to tears.

And that made him smile. He wanted to be remembered as the great country he was on Earth, not as the barely sane monstrosity he'd had become. He would have preferred ripping out and eating his own eyes than admitting he'd become that monster, of course.

He tapped his lead pipe gently against his foot, and the rhythm echoed throughout the station. It was cold, quiet, lonely, dark— all the main lights having burnt out with only the dim, green, backup lights illuminating the "country". Ivan hadn't cared much when they'd died, so he couldn't remember how long ago it had happened. He also couldn't be bothered to fix them.

"I should bust the glass out…" Ivan mumbled, his own voice harsh on his ears.

But he knew he wouldn't do that, and he snorted at his own comment.

"Just shut up and go to bed."

And he knew he wouldn't do that either. All Ivan ever saw in his dreams were memories and hope. He hated that.

"Rise again!"

It only reminded Ivan it had been years— millions of them— since he and seen another living creature. He only had his own face to stare at in the reflection of the glass. Ivan hated that face, too. Always staring at him and smiling for no good reason. He never understood why his face was always smiling. Ivan was unhappy, he knew, and unhappy people didn't smile like Ivan did. Yet, of course, Ivan also knew his mind was rusting away. He just would have rather rolled around in and swallowed shards of glass than admit it to himself.

His own face only reminded him it had been seven million years since anyone had looked at it. That it had been nine billion years since anyone had genuinely known him or touched him orloved him. But, of course, Ivan would have rather driven nails in his forehead and stapled his whole body raw than ever admit he'd ever cared about any of those things.

And he hated that.

"Rise again!"