- HetaWorld Online -

Rushed-Beginning Error ( I )


It was nearly perfect.

"A-I: Reread the scanned memory and re-apply to digital surroundings."

The world around him shifted and fluctuated with green and glowing binary numbers. The strings of numbers merged together in different areas and created physical, 3D shapes that were outlined in an exoskeleton of green.

"A-I: Fully download imagery into avatar's cerebral cortex."

The 3D shapes gained firmer form and became colored. The former green and blocky shapes had now become vibrant-looking bushes, swaying trees, and floating clouds. Every single aforementioned item in the area was now perfectly detailed and exceptionally realistic-looking, despite them being just strings of numbers and codes in reality.

Japan stepped back and observed his handiwork, breathing in deeply the artificially created scents of the forest. His deep brown eyes caught onto a stray line of unencrypted codes that floated just above his head. He frowned at the numbers and reached out to touch them. The numbers froze in place upon touch and glowed a crimson red color. Such a reaction was highly alarming to the Japanese man and his eyebrows knitted with contempt.

"It appears as if some of the data has been corrupted." he murmured to himself. "But how…?"

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he decided that it would be best to handle the problem another day.

"A-I: Disconnect NerveGear, then shut down system."

He waited. He waited for the serene forest to fade away from around him and to be replaced with the obscuring shade of his NerveGear Helmet. He waited for his consciousness to return to where his real physical body was at: his office. Nothing of the sort came.

"A-I," he cleared his throat slightly, "disconnect NerveGear, then shut down system… please."

Something isn't right…

"I'm afraid I can't let you leave, Mr. Japan." came a voice from behind.

Japan swerved around immediately, thoroughly surprised by the fact that he hadn't noticed that someone had been standing behind him and also at the fact that there was someone standing behind him in the first place.

Brown eyes met blue eyes, and Japan found himself staring down at the face of a youthful boy who had strikingly blonde hair. The boy looked oddly familiar for some reason.

"Who," Japan drew slowly, his body tensing as an unsettling atmosphere settled in, "are you, little one?"

The boy's face fluctuated strangely at that moment, revealing a collection of glowing red numbers.

"You…!" Japan whispered in a alarm. He took a step back, mind racing and calculating possibilities.

"I am a reflection." the boy said suddenly and quickly, taking a step forward. His small and meaty hand outstretched itself towards Japan's form and melded into a shadowy claw. "I am your true self."

Before the country could react, he was consumed by the shadow.


[ Several xxx Later ]

America awoke with a pounding headache which was strange because he didn't remember drinking any alcohol the previous day. Keeping that thought in mind, he concluded that the pain in his head was not from a hangover.

"Ughhh." he whined to himself, his hand grasping his forehead. "I need a hamburger and an aspirin… and a hamburger."

"Wake up, you bloody git!" came a distinctly British sounding voice, followed by a painful kick to the stomach.

"Ow!" America whined sleepily as he did a double-take. "Tony help me! I'm being attacked by a monster with enormous eyebrows!"

"Why you…!" the voice growled; and America could feel the scruff of his collar being pulled up. "...Just get the bloody hell up already."

The American opened his eyes and found that he was lying on the hard, cold ground, staring up at an irritated looking Brit.

"Finally!" England muttered, releasing the scruff of America's shirt and brushing himself off indignantly.

"England?" America blinked in confusion, eyebrow raised. "Dude, why are you at my house?" He paused, fully registering England's appearance… and he laughed loudly: "OMG, dude! What the hell are you wearing?! Ahahaha!"

The British country was currently adorned in glistening chain mail that was extremely tight fitting. Messily made cardboard wings were tapped to his back and a paper halo was lofted above his head by a metal band.

"W-What?!" England stuttered, face flushing a deep shade of red. "I-I didn't choose to look like this!"

"Angleterre speaks ze truth!" came another voice, thick and charming like honey. "His own dressing style is ten times worse."

"No one asked for your opinion, Frenchie!" England shouted back.

"France?" America blinked, swerving his head so that he could see the Frenchman fully. The said Frenchman was currently leaning against the wall with a bored expression. "You're in my house too-" The American bit his tongue as he realized the French country was dressed even stranger than the British one: "Lmfao, why the hell are you wearing a dress?!"

And indeed that was what France appeared to be wearing: a purple flowy dress with a garter belt wrapped around his waist.

"It ees not a dress!" France shouted back; he paused, a proud expression finding its way onto his face: "What you see here ees a clothing that was very popular in my country several centuries ago." He huffed: "Of course, I wouldn't expect a man who cannot even distinguish his own surroundings to know of such things!"

"I agree with France." drew another voice with a hint of malice. "You're constant insistence that this is your house is making me want to punch a hole in the wall, America."

"Woah!" America shouted, jumping to his feet and turning around to face the one who had spoken: a smiling Russia. "Even Russia is in my house! Is today my birthday or somethin'?"

Russia, who was dressed in a simple black long coat and a scarf, punched his fist into the wall right above France's head. The Frenchman paled in turn.

"Who else is here?" America grinned widely, hands on hips.

"Italy and I are here as well." came a deep, thickly-accented voice.

American chanced a glance towards the corner of the room and registered two figures leaning against the wall: Germany, who was crossed-armed and frowning, and Italy, who was cowering beside him. The two were dressed in military uniforms that resembled the ones they had worn in World War I.

"W-Where are we?" Italy stuttered, eyes beginning to tear up noticeably. "I want to go home!"

"What are you talking about?" America grinned as he finally took his time to observe his surroundings. "We're obviously…. not at my house…?"

Four red-bricked walls rose from around them, none of them containing a door. A hard, cemented ground lay just below their feet, and a gray ceiling rested above their heads. Strangely enough, despite their being no source of light, the room was not consumed in darkness.

"Waitaminute," American frowned, eyebrows furrowed. "Where are we?!"

"Finally!" France and England gasped in unison.

"Putting America's idiocy," England cleared his throat loudly, "do any of you remember what you were doing before you woke up here?"

"We were at the G8 meeting." Germany answered with a raised eyebrow. "You don't remember?"

"Oh!" France shouted, eyes lighting up as the memory returned to him. "Zat's right! We were at the meeting, and then Japan told us that he wanted to show us something, and zen…" He trailed off.

"W-Where is Japan?" Italy murmured worriedly, scanning the room thrice over. "I haven't seen him…I hope he's okay…"

There was a sudden blinding flash of light at the center of the room; and when it disappeared, a figure stood there. The figure was adorned in crisp, black uniform that was embroidered with gold. A cased-katana hung at the figure's waist.

"J-Japan!" England shouted as he came to recognize the figure. "W-What the hell was that light just now?"

"Japaaaaan!" America cried as he pounced on the small Asian country with a hug. "I missed you! I just woke up here with all of these weird losers; it's been a nightmare! Save mee!"

Russia punched another hole in the wall, this time barely missing France's head.

"You're all awake." was all Japan said. "Good."

"Japan," Germany frowned as he departed from his corner and came to approach the addressed country, "what's going on here?"

"We're currently in the game I was talking about at the meeting." Japan answered.

Surprised expressions graced the surrounding countries' expressions, save for Russia.

"Wait," England shouted, eyebrows raised, "are you telling me that we're actually in a game right now? But everything looks so real!"

"Everything you see before you is made up of numerical codes." Japan nodded; he paused in thought, before he added: "The outfits I downloaded on you are made of them as well."

"S-So you're the one who put me in this embarrassing outfit!" the British country exclaimed accusingly.

Japan looked at him, an unreadable expression flickering across his face; he stared at the Brit for a bit longer, before he questioned: "Do you not like it?"

"No…" England muttered, taken aback by the Asian country's strange demeanor. "It's just a bit much…"

"Japan," Italy murmured suddenly, "are you feeling alright? You're acting kind of wei-

"Woah" America interrupted with a wide grin, "that's totally awesome! But why aren't I wearing a super rad costume?" The American was still dressed in his business suit after all.

"I didn't have the time to apply the codes for your outfit, America." Japan answered. "I was too busy downloading your memories into the coding for the game."

"Downloading our memories?" France frowned, head perking up.

"Yes," Japan nodded, "this is is the first virtual, online game ever to adapt the in-game settings in accordance to the player's memories - that is, your memories are the backbone for the game."

"Wait a minute, Japan," Germany spoke up, crossing his arms again, "are you sure that is such a good idea? We are countries after all. I'm not very good with gaming techonology, so I won't talk like I'm well-educated on it, but wouldn't our memories be too much for the game to process?"

"Possibly," Japan replied in a nonchalant tone, "but that's why this is a demo-version."

A strange and uneasy silence struck the air then.

"Isn't that a bit dangerous?" questioned England.

"Do not worry." Japan smiled with a strange tone ebbing into his voice. "I wouldn't let anything relatively bad happen to any of you."

"G-Germany!" Italy exclaimed, as he shook the addressed country's arm. "There's something wrong with Japan! He's smiling!"

And indeed the Asian country kept on smiling, unnerving all that surrounded him, save for Russia who seemed relatively undisturbed by everything that was occurring.

"Putting zat aside," France drew cautiously, bright blue eyes becoming slightly narrowed, "how are we supposed to exit zis game anyways…?"

Another long silence hit the air.

"I'm afraid that's impossible at this point in time." Japan replied.


Save Data?

[Yes]

[No]


A/N: So, this is my first fic here; and it's heavy based on all of the Heta-games, so… yeah. Is this worth continuing?