Alfred felt as if his arm muscles were on fire.

As little as he wants to admit, Alfred had never actually done something that could be considered 'straining'. True, he was quite active in sports, but he takes many breaks in between in order not to feel tired. Working in a mine for hours straight was obviously another story. Alfred wondered how the other kids could actually stand it. Then again, even if they can't, they probably had no choice.

Just when Alfred felt sure that his arms were about to break off, a guard yelled over the loud clanking of tools.

"Alright brats! That's it for today!"

Finally! Alfred exhaled. He examined his hands as he regrouped with the other adolescents of his batch. His palms were red and raw from holding a sickle and he could hardly feel his fingers. That makes one more good reason for them to escape.

The blond boy found himself once again in the chamber where he awoke in. How many hours had passed since I arrived here? He wondered. Heck, he hadn't even a clue if it was day or night. Already he was missing the feeling of sunlight bathing his skin.

He shook the thought away and looked around. Everyone looked the same as they did before the mining work, just a little more exhausted looking. Alfred figured it was a good time to carry out his plan.

"Uhh.." he stood up nervously. He absolutely hated talking in front of an audience. "..Hey there everyone.."

A few regarded him. Most didn't bother.

"Anyway.." he continued. "My name Alfred and I'm twelve – almost thirteen actually, but that's besides the point."

Silence. He waited. One minute. Two minutes.

"So.. could you guys tell me yours?" he tried back up his first statement. Alfred glanced at his first companions for support. Unfortunately, Feli and Kiku only gave him strange looks.

"Guys…"

"Look, whatever you're trying to do, just stop it," a familiar voice spoke up behind him. Alfred turned to come face to face with Arthur's scowl.

"Aww come on.." Alfred said. "What's wrong with asking for names?"

Arthur glared at him somemore. Then just when he opened his mouth to say something, Feli chirped;

"My name is Feliciano Vargas and I'm fourteen years of age. My powers are healing."

To Alfred's surprise, Kiku followed suit. "Umm… I'm Honda Kiku and I'm thirteen. My powers are assembling objects to create an entirely different thing."

The American boy stared at his friends, gratitude flashing in his blue eyes. There was another moment of silence when finally, another Asian (who Alfred recognized as the one Kiku was with when he first arrived) spoke.

"I'm Wang Yao and I am the same age as Kiku, aru. I can duplicate any inanimate thing."

"..My name is Elizaveta Héderváry," a girl sitting in a corner said. "I'm fifteen and my powers are strength."

Slowly, more and more told their names, ages and powers. Many of them had unique abilities, much to Alfred's amazement and not two powers are alike. Like Arthur had told him before, every one of them were from countries all over the world.

Arthur kept on staring at him sceptically the whole time, trying to figure out what exactly was in his mind. Unfortunately, Alfred was famous for being an unpredictable kid among his mates and family.

Alfred waited until everyone who wanted to talk to finish speaking before proposing his plan. "Let's escape."

That alone caught the attention of every adolescent there.

"Don't you guys want to get out of all this?" he gestured around him. "All of you. Don't you want to see your families again? Or even the bright rays of sunlight?"

"Al.." Feli stood up and took his hand, his expression pained. "Please. Stop this."

"..I won't." Alfred pulled himself free. "Not after I saw him. Your brother. He's here too, isn't he?"

Feli stared at him with widened eyes. For a second, Alfred was afraid that he would make him cry all over again. But still, he went on.

"We can save them. In fact, we need them. We need all the help we can get. Those of you whose siblings are here, here's your chance to see them again." He inhaled. "So what do you say? Let's work together and escape."

The adolescents shifted uncomfortably and exchanged glances among themselves. Alfred tried to read their expressions. Unsure. Doubt. That was it. They were scared. Afraid that it would fail.

"Give up the idea, Alfred," Arthur finally said. Was it just him, or did Alfred see a twinkle of hope in his eye? "It's impossible to escape."

He sounded so sure about it that Alfred almost, almost believed him. Still, he held on to his resolve.

"Alright. I understand that you guys are afraid – afraid of the consequences that await us, but that's why I need all your helps. We have to succeed, whatever it takes. That way, there won't be punishment. We'll be free." He pressed on stubbornly. "All of you – all of us won't have to suffer this any longer."

Alfred glanced around, hoping to gain at least a little response. Unfortunately, no one spoke up.

"..Come on.." Alfred felt something in him shatter. He was so enthusiastic about his plan, so sure it would work. But now, that hope seemed like a thousand miles away.

Fine. He heaved a deep sigh. "Fine. You can all stay here for the rest of your lives for all I care." He clenched his fists and turned around. "Even if I have to do it alone, I'm gonna get out of this miserable place."

That said, he marched to a corner and sank down, bringing his knees to his chest. A whirlpool of emotions swirled in his heart – frustration, disappointed, loneliness and of course, rejection.

He tried to hide it, of course, but droplets of tears seemed to somehow escape his eyes. He buried his face in his knees and willed himself to stop. Crying wouldn't do anything, he knew that. Even so, he was still a child. He hated it – the confinement, the darkness, the feeling of being turned down. He really hated it.

Alfred heard sounds of fabric shuffling followed by a soft thud next to him, indicating that someone had settled down there. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw the last person he was expecting to see.

Arthur said nothing as he sat down and rubbed his sore wrists. It might've been exhaustion. It might've been the silence. It might've been the comfort of having someone – anyone around. Alfred never thought he would fall asleep, but he did. Unfortunately, sleep only brought him more confusion.

xXx

Alfred was there, yet he wasn't actually there.

He could see and hear clearly around, but when he looked down, he had no body. He was just a consciousness, a small fragment of his spirit.

Alfred was in a mansion he had never seen before. He floated (the best word he could think of was floated) in a huge living room decorated with antique furniture of all kinds. A massive plasma tv stood atop a fireplace that rivaled it in size. One side of a wall was made entirely of glass, and the view was breathtaking. A vast grassland spread under him, joining with the sea not too far off. Sitting at the foyer was a man. Alfred couldn't make out his appearance, for his back was turned but he could see that the man was young – somewhere in his early twenties. There was something about him that bothered the boy. Something Alfred couldn't quite make out.

Without thinking, he reached out, hoping to get the man's attention. But just when he was about to touch him, everything went black.

Alfred sat upright and blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. His back ached like hell from who knows how long of hunching. He glanced around and found a metal plate filled with white.. stuff placed before him.

"..That's yours." Alfred turned. Arthur was still beside him, an arm resting on one raised knee. An empty metal plate like his own lay near his feet. "Feli tried waking you during meal time but you slept like the dead. So he ended up insisting on saving yours for you."

"I'm not hungry." He really wasn't in the mood for food at that moment, but his stomach claimed otherwise.

"Yeah. And I believe you." Arthur smiled crookedly. "Eat up when you got the chance. They don't usually give much."

Slowly, Alfred gave in and picked the plate up. He scooped a spoonful into his mouth. Despite the hunger he felt, it was tasteless and bland – as if he was drinking floury water instead of eating decent solid food. Alfred downed it in several huge gulps.

"..I can't believe you actually had the nerve to say it.." Arthur muttered suddenly. Alfred lowered his plate and raised an eyebrow.

"Hmm? Say what?"

"Your plan on escaping." Arthur's tone softened. "No one wanted to try again after.." He paused. Alfred immediately realized why and tried to change the topic.

"So…" he started. So what? So what? "..how do you guys do the power gathering on fingertips and palm thing?"

"Eh?"

Alfred shifted his weight. "I was just thinking.. maybe I could figure out my powers if I knew how to do that."

Arthur knitted his eyebrows and held out his hand. A tiny flame of darkness danced across his palm. "..It may seem easy, but it's not." He said. "Our powers flow in an endless cycle along with our lifeline. To do this," he stared at his hand. "We channel a small amount of energy and bend it to our will."

"Sounds easy enough."

"Like I said, it is actually anything but easy." Arthur continued. "A fair amount to concentration is needed to keep things under control. Somehow or another, our powers are alive, and are usually very rebellious upon their first time usage for they dwell deep inside us, waiting impatiently to be unleashed. And because of inexperience, it is difficult to even draw out that buried ability. Even if you do, you would tend to overuse it and exhaust yourself in less than five minutes."

He's talking like a freaking geezer, Alfred thought. Then again, Arthur had probably been here long enough to see the same process being repeated again and again to learn some things from it.

"So what happens if your concentration breaks when you do it?" he asked.

To answer his question, the black flame exploded, almost smoldering Alfred's eyebrows.

"ookay…" Alfred took his glasses off and cleaned them with his sleeve. "All I need to do is concentrate?"

"More or less."

Alfred closed his eyes and inhaled. He tried to imagine a ball of flame, energy – whatever slowly forming on his palm. He opened his eyes, and saw no difference.

"Try harder," Arthur advised.

"I'm trying.." Alfred gritted his teeth and concentrated harder. Still no progress. Alfred almost screamed in exasperation.

"Take your time," Arthur said. "It's impossible to master this skill in such a short amount of time."

There it is again. Impossible.

"You really love that word huh?" Alfred couldn't resist asking. That statement earned him a weird look from his companion.

"What?"

Alfred chuckled. Arthur was so oblivious about it. "Nothing. I'll show you that I can do it, Arthur. Just you watch."

The Brit blinked a few times, then broke into yet another crooked smile. "I'd like to see you try."

Alfred turned back to his task. He held out his hand and closed his eyes. There must be something he was doing wrong. Something he didn't realize.

That's it. His mind. All this while he'd been thinking – thinking of so many things. Maybe that was the reason why. His mind was unconsciously distracted, preventing him from concentrating fully. He had to clear his mind of unnecessary thoughts.

Alfred took in a deep breath and pictured himself in a dark place. He looked around and something caught his eye. A tiny fragment of light. Alfred ran towards it and grabbed it, feeling its warmth and power surge into him. Then he opened his eyes.

Was it just him, or did the room become darker? He could make out Arthur staring at him disbelievingly with his mouth agape. Wait. Was the light coming from him?

Alfred glanced downwards, and immediately felt a mixture of excitement, happiness.. and fear. A small ball of bright yellow flame–as is molded directly light itself – flickered and danced across his palm.

Finally, Arthur found his tongue, but Alfred couldn't say he liked what he heard. "Welcome. You are officially one of us now."


Phew! one down, three more to go! =D moral of story: NEVER write four fanfics at once..

okay... i have to admit that this fanfic is lacking the usual angst we see from heroes who just found out about their powers... I'm such a failure... QAQ

Anyway, excuse my mistakes. Hetalia is by no means mine. Thanks for reading!