Disclaimer: I definetly don't own Hetalia.

authors note: oKAY so I'm terrible at updating. Sorry. I'll try to be more regular but no promises. I suffer heavily from depression and sometimes its a chore just to open my eyes let alone write up chapters for three different stories. But I'll try. Anyway here you go lovelies. Thanks for being patient.

I watched ever since Rome's death… watching my beloved humans blossom and grow and I recognized things I had seen before… long ago during the betrayal of my brother once cousin. A small nation grew into a powerful empire, green eyes like leaves in the summer and eyebrows like the tails of squirrels (I mean that they were rather large and bushy. But they looked quite decent on his face despite what the long haired nation with blue eyes would say.). I try not to say the names of my nations… as if I could fool myself into believing I don't care for them but I do care for them. Despite knowing that eventually each and every one of them would become part of my collection. Part of my morbid museum.

I sometimes go to my museum still, I often spend days there… just walking throughout the endless room. My fingers sweeping across the glass above the peaceful faces of the dead, they were perfectly preserved of course. On bad days I could pretend that they were only asleep. They'd wake up soon you see. Even though in the land of the dead they remained. Oh. Maybe I should say that because I am technically dead… well… I could roam between the realms of the living and the dead. It's something I do every Sunday and I love spending time with my nations… even though they are long since dead. It had taken decades but I had eventually forgiven Germania and sometimes I teach him how to play a card game or two with Rome.

Hah… You know it's sort of funny what you can find in History, this is what I call the realm of the dead as I found it fitting. You'd be surprised as to what is all there… so many nations. But not only lost nations such as Rome, Native North America, and all of them but you can also find pieces of nations that had died. Hmm… like for example Little Rus lives here in history as well… The part of… Russia… That had died so long ago when he was barely two hundred. You could also find Soviet Union, Prussian Empire, English Empire, Spanish Empire, Native Canada, Native America, Thirteen Colonies, New France and countless other pieces of nations that had died as they grew and changed… I imagine that once the nation dies the pieces will all merge back together but I don't know for sure as of now.

I could talk forever couldn't I. Well I literally could talk forever… I wonder what would become of me when this rock that I represent is gone. What will I do? Become a personification with nothing to personify… what will that be like? Oh why do I care anyway? It's not like anything will change. I'll be feared by the other planets still. I'll be angry still. I'll carry my hate forever… the pain I feel in my chest will always remain as I outlive everything there is to come. Maybe once the universe is dead I'll finally be able to rest. I am so weary you see… So very weary. So much death. So much pain.

I remember about two years before the Second World War… the pain I felt in my chest had been unbearable. I had taken to… self-medicating myself. No drug humans had made were strong enough for my body and so I bought from a planet called Kurik from a far edge of the universe. I took these purple pills with gold and silver flecks in them and I would be blanked for hours. It was good… at the time I was still recovering for the First World War and the great depression was wreaking havoc on my health. Often making me cough up blood as my lungs shredded themselves within me.

I took the pills and forgot… and I suppose this is what made it so easy for what came next to happen. I had been living in Berlin at the time, disguised as a red head with brown eyes I came home on day. Immediately heading to my room on the second floor, clutching my chest as I struggled to hold the harsh coughs in. My fingers had scrabbled across the drawers on my bedside table to get the pills I so desperately needed, I had to dull the growing pain. My body had been so tense… like it had been about to snap. But looking back on it I know that it was the looming war and the tensions between my beloved nations and people that was causing this tension and agony.

Just as my shaking pale hand had grasped the capsule and my other hand had closed around the lid… everything had gone black as a powerful blow to my head caused my shaking frame to fall to the floor. The pill bottle had rolled beneath my bed where I would find it two years later, beneath layers of dust. But now… I had woken in a room… it was small and chains were keeping me against the ratty bed. These chains were right on top of the spiritual chains I had that kept me alive… I don't know how long I had laid there until the door opened and the Sun came in.

The Sun hated me… but he couldn't kill me due to the fact that he was my star and as my star he had to protect me at least somewhat. I suppose not killing me counted? Nonetheless he could punish me however he deemed fit and due to my undead (?) state he no longer had any restrictions on what he could do. The next two years were agony… my mind broke once more after the first month under the agony. The scars I bear from these two years remain… they can only be seen under the red light of a sunset or those blasted artificial red lights. They glow a deep burgundy and I forever hate them.

Seeing them makes me want to be sick… I remember each horrible punishment I suffered from his hand… Each one more painful and terrible than the last. I had even spent half a year being passed throughout the galaxy to be used however someone wished. My stomach turns as every time I see the sunset I remember the way my wings broke beneath his boots… ground into dust before being healed just so he could go again. I had screamed until my throat had bled beneath his cruel hands…. But I had escaped. Just before the beginning of World War Two.

I had begun hallucinating again whenever I was left in my room… They screamed at me for being so useless… so weak. They needed me. Could I see that? I had to go to them. How could I be so weak? Why was I still laying there when I had to help them? It hurt so much to move but I forced it. The Sun had stopped chaining me up as he tired of having to undo the chains every time he wished to lend me out as a favor. But I forced my broken body to stand and walk to the door. My wings had dragged behind me, nearly useless… I had no energy to hold them up by myself. Just as the door began to open I unleashed my power and sent the hunk of metal flying and it froze over with The Sun trapped unconscious beneath it.

I fled then, my bruised hand on the stony wall for balance as I moved as quickly as my body would allow. Blood was smeared on the dark stones as I limped towards my freedom and as I opened the door and made to launch myself into space. The Sun's arms wrapped around me, one arm around my neck and the other around my waist. We hovered just above the surface of the star he personified as he pulled me back into the cellar like door he had made for his home… and I panicked then. My fangs sinking into his arm, his bones splintering beneath the force of my jaw. He had screamed and tried to pull away from me but he couldn't escape and when my head shook wildly from side to side I tore his arm clean off. Causing him to pull away completely as he screeched and I immediately set off. My battered wings shooting me into space as I fought against his gravity to go back home… home home home… Once I got into my own gravity I just let myself fall… and I did. I fell back to Earth, splashing down in the middle of a lake.