Disclaimer: Do not own Hetalia.
Earth, centuries after the nuclear war destroyed civilization, was still a desolate, dying planet. The bombs initially purged most forms of life, and the great cities and achievements of mankind were obliterated. The nuclear apocalypse completely wiped out the nations and their peoples that had existed before, leaving in its wake barren lands of ashes and immense radiation. A thick layer of pollution in the atmosphere let little sunlight through, and for a long period of time the once-blue-and-green planet looked like a dead one. But it was not complete empty. What was left of humanity after the war struggled on, living through the harsh conditions and managing to keep from going extinct. Humans have always been such persistent creatures.
The few inhabitants that were left had to adapt to the contaminated environments, until eventually, some forms of civilization returned to the humankind. They peopled the continents sparsely, becoming resourceful and never wasting any precious raw material. Since society's old norms had been annihilated, there was no technology, no more skyscrapers, no more convenience. Many people reverted back to primitive modes of living: hunting, gathering, villages, adobe brick houses. Time did not just stop with the end of the old ways, but instead, centuries continued to pass, and soon those old ways of technology and convenience were forgotten. The people just lived simple lives, trying to survive in the dull, ashen planet. But their lives were far from okay.
By the western edge of what used to be known as the Atlantic Ocean was a small settlement of wooden and brick cabins and buildings that served as the village's hub spot. The air was chilly, the sky bleak and gray, the people minding their own business and carrying out their daily chores such as hanging the laundry or chopping the night's meat for dinner or gather the meager amount of plants growing in the vicinity. There was lots of talk between the villagers, who had no choice but to get to know everyone else who lived in the area, but little laughter among adults. The children also had to work around the household to keep everything somewhat tidy and neat, though they were very dirty themselves.
It was just another typical village along the coast, another village that had to fend off the animals mutated by the radiation or inspect their own food for contamination carefully. Disease was common, and the life spans rarely went over the age of twenty-five for females and thirty for males. Just an ordinary town.
Except that a traveler was passing through. The village hardly ever came into contact with humans who did not live within a few miles distance away, and so travelers were quite extraordinary indeed. Normally there would be more excitement about a newcomer, but this time their visitor was only a young boy, not over the age of twelve, and so the townspeople dismissed him as another abandoned soul, wandering from place to place to find a suitable one to die in peace. No one could afford to take him in, so they ignored him, hoping he would not beg. They didn't need another mouth to feed.
But the boy didn't come to beg. No, he was here on his own mission, one he had set out to do for a long time now. He wore a dark cloak over his head and kept to himself, wary of bandits and crooks, but since he didn't look like he had anything of value, he wasn't bothered. Soon enough he found the local tavern, where the men came to exchange information or get out of the house for a change. Walking past the tables of men who shared grim conversations about the year's unlucky, poor harvest, the boy made his way to the bartender.
At first the bartender pretended not to notice his presence, but the boy cleared his throat three times and removed his cloak to reveal short blonde hair and hazel eyes. "Whadda you want, kid?" the bartender said, obviously annoyed.
"One glass of milk, sir," the boy replied evenly.
"Milk? Do you know what that'll cost ya? Good cows don't come by that easily!" the bartender chided, about to turn away. But the blonde-haired boy placed a small brown sack the size of his palm on the counter, causing the bartender to raise his eyebrow. "What's this?" he asked as he opened it and peer in. His eyes widened, and a small grin grew on his face. "This...is this real salt?"
"Of course," the boy answered, smirking. "So do I get my milk or what?"
"R-right away, kid," he stuttered. Hurriedly, he whipped out a wooden cup and poured him his milk. Once he handed him the cup, he took the sack and shoved it in his pocket. "Thanks for the business, kid!"
The boy nodded and rolled his eyes as he turned away, before searching the tavern intently. The first three villages had produced no results, but this one was different, he knew, he could feel it in his bones. What he was looking for was here, and his search would come to an end. Then his gazed zeroed in on the back corner of tavern, where a tiny table was tucked away, isolated from everyone else. Another adolescent boy was seated there, sitting all by himself. Straightening up, the boy ambled over, pulling up a chair next to the other boy, startling him. He plopped down into the chair and set his cup on the table while the other just blinked at him and tilted his head.
"Hello," the blonde-haired boy smiled politely as he analyzed the other boy's featured. He was just about the same height and age, with big, bright blue eyes and sandy blonde hair.
"Hello..." the other boy said reluctantly, still surprised by his out-rightness.
"My name's Myles," the blonde-haired boy offered, trying to stay as pleasant as possible. "What's yours?"
"I'm Ryker," he replied, frowning.
"What's wrong?" Myles asked, unsettled by the those blue eyes that just stared back at him, as if puzzled.
"Oh, nothing, you just have really thick eyebrows. It's kinda strange," Ryker answered, chuckling to himself. Myles, doing his best to let that comment go over his head, maintained his sociable attitude, going into the routine he had done many times before after finding a possible candidate for what he was looking for.
"So where are your parents?" Myles ventured.
"I, um, don't have any," Ryker said uncertainly, unsure whether or not to answer truthfully.
"Neither do I," Myles grinned, before pressing more. So far so good. "How long have you lived around here?"
Now Ryker hesitated. "You're really nosy, aren't you?" he narrowed his eyes. "You ask a lot of questions. I never gave you permission to sit here."
"I was just wondering," Myles told him innocently, "Never heard of making friends before?"
"I guess I've been here for a while," Ryker repudiated vaguely. Now Myles was opportunistic. So far, Ryker met all of his criteria: no parents, more skeptical than your average twelve-year-old.
"So how old are you?" Myles asked casually, hoping for a certain answer, sipping his milk.
"Twelve. Same as you, I think," Ryker huffed, irritated.
"I'm not twelve. And I don't think you are either," Myles said, a sly grin tugging on the corners of his lips. "So how old are you really?"
"Why would I lie about my age?" Annoyance was plain in his voice now.
"Because," Myles said, dropping to a low whisper, "Because, you're like me, because you don't age."
Ryker's eyes widened and his jaw dropped for a moment. "You...you don't age either?" he whispered back, alarmed. "How did you know...?"
"I could sense it. You could feel something off about me too, right?"
"Then...do you know..." Ryker started, unsure how to phrase his question.
"What we are? Yes. We're not just immortal. We're nations." Myles spoke with unwavering confidence and pride.
"Nations?" Ryker frowned at the unfamiliar word.
"That's what they used to call people like us. We're the personifications of the people who live in our lands. Before the nuclear apocalypse, they were known as nations," Myles explained. He knew the idea would be hard for Ryker to grasp, since he had no concept of national boundaries or governments or distinct cultures. Civilization was just too primitive for all that.
"That's just a myth. Life's always been like this. There wasn't anything before it," Ryker brushed off bitterly.
"No, it's more than myth and legend! It was real, technology, electricity, everything," Myles insisted. "There used to be enormous villages and huge buildings called skyscrapers, and automobiles."
"Okay, you're just crazy," Ryker sighed. "I thought you'd be able to help me to figure out whatever I am, but you're just delusional."
"It's true, I'm telling you! We're descendants from those nations that prospered before the nuclear crisis. Centuries ago, humans practically ruled the world! People didn't have to live like this." Myles gestured to the dreary tavern.
"Why should I believe you? I don't even know you," Ryker snapped.
"Long ago, my islands used to be called the nation of Britain," Myles answered seriously, "He's my ancestor. And you, your land used to be called America. I know all of this because the one called Britain left behind a journal, along with some important documents."
"Documents? There's no way paper could have survived that long..."
"By itself, yes, but with magic, it's possible."
"Wait, wait, hold on. First you're telling me that we're descended from nation that supposedly existed hundreds of years ago, and now you're saying you can use magic?" Ryker sounded irked, not believe the nerve of this guy. "Do you think I'm just some stupid kid?"
Myles sighed. He held out his palm above the table and muttered something unintelligible. All of a sudden his fingertips began to emit a soft green light, concealed to the rest of the tavern by their backs. Ryker inhaled sharply, and Myles lowered his hand as the green light faded away. "See? Believe me now?"
"Okay, I have to admit that was way cool," Ryker grinned. "But that doesn't prove the myths about the old world."
"Look around yourself, Ryker. These people, they're your people. So are the other villages on this continent. As their nation, it's your duty to make sure they can thrive. But they're not. No one on this planet is. Humans can't live like this anymore. We're going to go extinct," Myles asserted with a grave tone.
"Extinct? You don't know that."
"Yes I do. The pollution gets worse and worse every year. Soon the air will be so thick that sunlight can't come through to the surface. Without sunlight, life will cease to exist. That is a fact. Our people will perish," he claimed with poignancy.
"Even if what you're saying is true, we can't stop it. There's nothing we can do, it's too late to save the atmosphere," Ryker said despondently.
"But there is something we can do," Myles continued more urgently. "We can stop the nuclear crisis from ever happening. We can undo this future. We can save humanity, all we have to do is go back in time before the nuclear war."
Now Ryker stared at him in utter disbelief. "You really are crazy! One, it's still only a myth, and two, that's not even possible!"
"Weren't you paying any attention? I can use magic like my ancestors could! There's a spell that can take us back to that era, and we can stop the nuclear war from starting in the first place! It's our duty to our people, to humankind. You want proof about the old world? Well, I can take you there to see it in person."
Ryker hesitated again. "You do realize what you're asking me to do, right? That's a pretty big risk for me. I'm still not sure whether or not I believe you!"
"I know this is all a bit far-fetched, but what have you got to lose? I'm guessing you're at least a century and a half old like me, right? Do you want to keep living like this? This is your chance to do something to help your people for a change," Myles maintained ardently. His own eyes shone with his determination and zeal, and Ryker found it hard not to trust him. What he was saying was true to some degree. Ryker had been wandering his lands for many decades, always feeling as if something important was missing. What this it? This adventure Myles was offering him? It really did sound like his chance to make something of his life, to be...to be hero even.
"I really hope you can put your money where your mouth is," he replied, a small smile growing on his lips, "Because if you're lying to me, you're going to regret it."
"I'll keep that in mind," Myles grinned back. "So you're in?"
Ryker nodded. "So how does this work?"
"First we have to go back to my place, to my land. That's where I can make the gateway to the past. Plus, there's two more of us already there, waiting for my return," Myles explained.
"There's more of us?" Ryker couldn't help but feel a bit excited. He had thought he was the only immortal walking this planet, doomed to be alone for eternity or something.
"Yes. We should head back as soon as possible. The trip will take at the very least a year if we don't make any unnecessary stops."
"A year continuous?" echoed Ryker, incredulous. "Sounds like a lot of walking."
"Oh, we won't be walking the whole way," chuckled Myles. "We'll be going by ship."
"Ship? You mean, across the ocean? You came all this way across the ocean?"
"Of course, even my ancestors were mastered of the sea," he laughed heartily. Phase one of his plan to restore the future had been successful. Now onto phase two, which was going to be much, much harder: reversing Earth's devastating history.
Fourteen Months Later
Ryker watched as Myles drew his large, special circle into the stony ground of the plateau, making careful, precise marks with his piece of charcoal. This was the last of his preparations for opening the gateway that would send them back into the past before the nuclear war started. Myles had tried to explain the principles and the logic his magical reasoning was based on, but after a few failed attempts by Ryker to understand, he gave up and just told Ryker that he would take care of it.
And now Ryker had a terrible jittery feeling inside his stomach as he watched in anticipation. Tonight was the night. They were actually going to do it, they were actually going into the past. He had no idea what to expect, even after long nights staying up late as his imagination took off, picturing all sorts of visions of the old world. Would it look as ashen as it did now? Myles had told him that there had once been seven billion people on the planet. That was almost incomprehensible to Ryker. In fact, more than once he had suspected Myles of making up all these "facts," but when Myles showed him his source, he became convinced. Apparently, the Britain of the old world had been able to shelter a worn, tattered journal of what the Earth had been like all those centuries ago. It was almost like a fairy-tale, the things that were written in it. But what was most important about that journal was the list of events leading up to the nuclear crisis and dates that would help Myles calculate what time exactly to jump back to.
Just as Myles was adding the last marks of his circle, their other two companions joined them at the top of the plateau, all ready for the coming journey, just as anxious as he. "There you two are!" Ryker exasperated. "For a moment I thought you'd be late and we'd have to do this tomorrow night instead."
"Oh please, you know we'd never miss this for the world," Kiera smirked, trying to mask her own inner butterflies.
"I'd be more worried about Myles messing up the gateway," Mina cocked her head to the side as she gazed at the charcoal marks.
The two girl nations had already been on Myles's islands before Ryker had arrive. Apparently Myles had been searching for fellow nations worldwide in the hopes of finding some that could help his save the their future. The four of them happened to be the only nations brave enough and healthy enough to make the journey; the few others were to weak and underdeveloped to try to follow Myles on his mission. But he had found Kiera on the boot-shaped peninsula a few years ago and brought her to his islands to begin to set the stage for his ultimate mission. She was an out-going girl with an upfront personality and wasn't afraid to take a chance. Her stunningly golden-brown eyes shone brightly against her deep brown hair that was normally pulled back into a ponytail. One of the strange things about her appearance was her wayward curl that stuck out on the side of her head, but she liked it there. She often had a knack for lightening the mood, her wide smile just too contagious sometimes.
Once Kiera had settled into his islands, Myles had set out east to continue phase one, and came across Mina, a more enigmatic girl with a reserved air about her. She was definitely the most jaded and guarded of the four, cautious with those around her and reluctant to give others her trust, but eventually Mina came around and opened up to her fellow young nations. Her dark, auburn hair was usually tied in a set of buns atop her head, and her mysterious brown eyes were often unreadable, for she was an expert at hiding her emotions. Since they had all been together for some months now, and since they had all been brought together for the same grave reasons, Ryker, Myles, Kiera, and Mina had learned to respect and put faith in one another. With their primary goals in mind, the four actually had not many problems cooperating.
"I've triple-checked everything," Myles assured them, gesturing for them to gather around in the middle of his circular spell. "Once the sun sets completely, there's no turning back, okay?"
"It's already too late to turn back now," Kiera pointed out, "We're doing this no matter what."
"I feel...unprepared," Mina admitted, "You sure we don't need to bring anything?"
"Yes. We can't bring too much through the gateway. All we can take are the clothes on our backs and this," Myles held up the old journal from which he had learned as much about the old world and the nuclear war as he could. "Once we make it to the past, we can rewrite history and save our peoples. But..." he trailed off anxiously, and the rest of them knew what he was thinking about. The four had discussed it previously: what would happen to them if they stopped the war?
"We can't have doubts now," Ryker shook his head. "We have no other choice. It's imperative that we prevent the nuclear weapons from dispatch. Or else our world is lost either way."
"You're right," Myles said shakily, clearing his thoughts.
"Let's do this," Kiera nodded, taking her designated place on the circle as the others did as well. Myles stood in the center, with the other three creating a triangle around him. After taking a deep breath, Myles crouched down and put both of his palms on the very middle of his charcoal circle, and then he began to whisper his incantation.
As he began to speak louder and faster, the marks on the ground began to glow and radiate a bright green light. At the sight of the luminescence, Ryker's throat went dry with apprehension. This is really it, he thought nervously. His heart beat in a mixture of exhilaration and unease, but he didn't dare move from his spot. Myles's chanting picked up at a quicker pace, until suddenly there was blinding flash of green light and an earsplitting BANG!, like thunder booming, and Ryker felt his stomach lurch violently as he was sucked into the gateway to the past. And then he was gone.
From the Author: Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Reviews are love 3