"No, you can't possibly—."

"We do what is right."

"According to whom other than yourselves?"

"That is not something I am going to answer."

God damn it England bitterly thought, choking back insults. She glared back at her captors, hoping they would drop dead from her sheer willpower. Tears burned her eyes, but she forced her gaze upon the leader, trying this time to wave him with determination. He wore a military-style jacket colored a dry brown along with a hat and pants to match. Thick black sunglasses completely concealed his eyes, despite the fact that the only source of light penetrated the darkness about five feet around England, giving her no hints as to what could lay beyond the men. At this time, the leader was using a British accent, but this didn't matter; England had heard them all change accents and languages without so much as blinking. Without anything to go on about her current location or where any of the men were from, England continued to pester the head honcho.

"Are you even going to explain to me any of this? If I'm going to lose my memory, why miss out on an opportunity to boast your most glorious plan?" England mockingly asked. She had only just been told after waking up from unconsciousness that she was going to remember nothing of being a country or her previous life.

Though he showed not a bit of emotion, the leader seemed to think this over for a few seconds. "I suppose you have a decent point," he answered back. Beginning to pace, he began. "We—."

"Who is 'we'?" England interrupted.

The leader frowned and stopped pacing before saying "I would be sure to keep to myself if I was in your position." He continued pacing. "Anyways, we, the USC, have come together to make this decision." England struggled momentarily against the rope and duct tape that tightly bound her to a chair. "You and the personifications of each nation have one sibling of the opposite gender, correct?"

England just stared as the leader beckoned to one of the recruits who pulled a table of unfriendly looking weapons into view.

"This is unnecessary, and is a flawed method. When figures as significant as personifications have siblings, there is more room for error if even one personification decides to slack off in their responsibilities." The leader began fingering a little syringe on the table-of-terror. "This could cause a chain reaction, and they could all end up neglecting their jobs at assisting the ruler of their country."

England couldn't help but gape. These people are absolute lunatics! "You are overthinking this way too much! I mean, what are the chances that we're all just going to stop helping our people?"

"We aren't taking any chances."

"So you think that making me lose my memory will help in the slightest?!"

"No," the Leader said, reaching over to pick up the syringe filled with God-knows-what. He smirked as he walked toward the flabbergasted nation. "That's why we're making there be only one representative of each nation, with the small exception of the nations which have North and South counterparts. But still, there will be only one personification for each pair of siblings. The siblings that we choose to lead their country will lose any memory they had of their brother or sister, but still know who they are." He quickly pinned England's head to the metal headrest. "The others will lose memories of being personifications at all." England gasped as the man plunged the needle into her temple. As she started to lose consciousness, he chuckled and set the now-empty syringe on the table. "Don't worry; you'll be taken care of by your new family." He began walking away, escorted by his cronies. He called over his shoulder, "Don't worry. You won't miss your friends or family if you never knew them."