Italy found himself in a palace. He walked through the hallways and saw very nice paintings. He continued to walk into a room when he hears glass breaking. He immediately hid behind a knight statue.
"Che palle! I won't allow myself to succumb to it! Not ever!"
The voice was so familiar to Italy. He peeked around the side of the statue and saw a man with copper hair walking fairy fast with a maid following him, picking up the broken glass of a wine bottle. Who was this man?
"Young Master, please calm yourself. Si, people of the town have gotten this sickness and have died from it, but there's no chance you'll get it." the maid said. Her voice was soft and she seemed a bit scared.
"But what if I do?! Huh!? Just the other day when I was holding my training sessions, that German bastard, Lutz, was coughing! He could be sick with that very illness! He'd give it to me! I'd end up like the peasants who have died! Who would rule in my place?! Surely not my fashion-obsessed fratello! Tch, Flavio's nothing but a useless piece of trash."
At that, Italy's eyes widened as he recognized the voice. It was HISvoice. But why was it rough? Why was the other him being so cruel? It didn't seem right. Then he saw the other Italy's eyes. They weren't a pretty, golden brown. They were stern, mysterious magenta.
"Luciano, please. You won't get this illness. The plague doctors are handling it-"
"PLAGUE!? Che palle! I for sure will get sick and die! Plagues don't subside! They wipe out entire towns! Nations even! I'm not ready to die! I can't die!" Luciano ranted. "I'm so close to conquering Poland with the help of Lutz and Kuro, though Lutz is a complete idiota. I'd can't die now! Not when I'm so close!"
"Young Master, it will be fine."
"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" Luciano screamed. The maid jumped a little, but then immediately left the room. Italy inched closer, hiding behind a chair. He got a better look at Luciano this way, and he indeed looked exactly like him. Luciano could even be mistaken for Italy just with a glance. Though his hard was redder that his normal copper color, his eyes were magenta instead of golden brown, and his skin was like Romano's, an olive color. He still had the curl in the right spot, though.
"I can't die. No, no, this isn't good. Why the fuck does this always happen to me?! It should happen to that German bastard. Why I ever made an alliance with him is beyond me." Luciano walked towards a mirror and looked at his reflection. "I'm too young to die. I can't die like this. Plague or no plague, I can't die yet."
Suddenly, the reflection changed and in the mirror, Luciano looked rotten. His skin was rotting, his eyes were sunken in, and his hair a mess. "Oh, but you will sooner or later." the reflection seemed to say. Luciano stumbled back into the chair Italy was hiding behind. The reflection seemed to laugh. "You'll die. And you'll look like me, Luciano. Just like me. Your decaying reflection." Luciano screamed as he threw a vase at the mirror, shattering them both. He stormed over to his bed and began panicking. His maids ran in and surrounded the man, who was obviously losing his mind.
Italy couldn't believe his eyes. He had to leave. He couldn't watch this anymore. He ran through the bedroom door and saw that the from palace doors had turned yellow and now had the Ace of Hearts on them. He ran as fast as he could, threw the large doors open, and soon he was gone.
Kuro appeared again, but this time, he was all grown up. He resembled Japan in every way. His outfit, however, was still black and fit him perfectly, apposed to the other forms he too,k in which the suit was much too big for him. His eyes had become a brighter, more stern shade of red and he had a smirk upon his face. "Three worlds down, one to go... bakayarou." He then disappeared.
The third Alice was an stubborn young man of club.
An mysterious, cruel figure in the world of Wonderland.
He charmed the people in the land to his beck and call.
A peculiar country answering to each command.
So he rose into the throne to be the country's king.
Consumed by paranoia of his own impending death.
Soon the king succumbed to a dark and nightmarish dream.
Disguised in mystery, loathing fate, he secured his regime
