A group of tired nations sat in the back of a truck, several maps laid out on the floor before them. A few old kerosene lanterns gave them just enough light to see the large map of Berlin as Feliks drew battle plans with a Sharpie. Toris sat next to him, a fleece blanket draped over his shoulders like a cloak. Raivis was barely able to stay awake as he tried to follow along with Feliks' erratic ideas, and Eduard was currently nursing his second cup of coffee.
"So, a full-scale capture should take about, like, five or so hours. We have all of our troops, about two-fifths of yours, and a lot of France's," Feliks yawned, looking to Eduard's laptop next to him. "But why did we have to do it this early?"
"Because, it'll completely catch the Germans off guard," Alfred explained. His voice didn't quite sync up with his picture on the screen, but he was using the best connection they could find for a video chat halfway across the world. "And think about it this way, it's only like, eight PM here in America."
"You know that we're in Berlin, right?" Eduard snapped.
Alfred rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he did so. "C'mon, nerd, you need to lighten up. It's the day of the invasion!"
"Oh, yes how could I have forgotten? What a way to start the morning."
Raivis fell against Eduard's shoulder, completely asleep. The Estonian hissed at him like a cat, trying to push the small boy off of him. Raivis groaned in reply, clutching Eduard's coat in his fists.
"Lemme sleep…" He muttered, curling up around Eduard.
"Hey, Raivis," Toris said gently, reaching over and running a hand through the boy's hair. "Why don't you go check on the prisoner?"
"M'kay." Raivis slowly got to his feet, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. He jumped out of the truck, disappearing into the darkness.
Once Toris was sure the Latvian was out of earshot, he got up and shut the truck's doors. Returning to his spot next to Feliks, he removed two letters from inside his coat.
"Ukraine and Belarus sent us these," He said, handing them to Feliks. "Evidentially, Belarus wishes I would drop off the face of the Earth and burn in hell for eternity, and Ukraine wants her people to know just how terrible and devilish we are."
"That's harsh," Alfred laughed. "Have you gotten any new transmissions since the last one?"
"Nope. I think Natalia must be pretty pissed," Toris gave him a halfhearted smile, watching Feliks tear up the letters and shove them in a lantern. The flames ate up the tiny bits, licking at Feliks' fingers. "Have you gotten anything from the two?"
"We traced the signal from that transmission, and it seems like they're somewhere in the Alps. We got sort of lost after that, but I have a general idea as to where they are. Do you think we should start looking?"
"How long do you think we could go before Ukraine and Belarus learn they're missing their representatives?" Eduard asked. "I mean, they'll definitely freak if they learn that they're missing."
"If you keep up the whole 'they're on the battlefield with us' thing, I think you have a good six or seven months before they start to get suspicious."
Suddenly a loud scream split the quiet of the truck, curses being shouted and threats being made at Raivis. Raivis yelled apologies back, trying to get their prisoner to calm down, but that wasn't working as well as he intended. There was a loud crash, and then a slam of a door. Raivis came running back to the truck, throwing open the door. He was completely pale, hands shaking as he climbed inside.
"H-h-h-he's awake," Raivis' voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke. Toris motioned for the boy to come to him, wrapping a protective arm around him.
"It's okay," He said, trying his best at calming the Latvian. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"N-no, but he w-w-was going to." Raivis buried himself into Toris' chest. "He looked like I-I-Ivan when he got a-a-a-angry with me."
"Shh, it's okay. He can't hurt you. You're safe here with us." Toris wrapped his blanket around Raivis, looking up at Eduard. "Would you go put him back to sleep?"
"Fine," Eduard huffed, grabbing a bottle and a rag from his backpack. "But if that bastard tries anything, I'm letting the guards take care of him."
Eduard left the truck, the sound of his boots clicking like gunshots in the quiet forest. The prisoner was still screaming like a madman, shouting what Toris could only assume were threats in his native language, and a few in English.
"Who's your prisoner?" Alfred asked nonchalantly. The remaining countries were startled by his voice, having momentarily forgotten that he was still here.
"Like, some stupid spy." Feliks answered, picking up Eduard's laptop. "Anyway, we have to start the invasion like, now. See you later!"
"Wait, but who is the spy? That isn – "
"Bye!" Feliks hung up, slamming the laptop closed.
"Why couldn't we tell him it was Antonio?" Raivis said, much more calmed down by now.
Feliks folded up the maps, putting them back in Eduard's backpack. "Because, if he knew we were turning on our allies, he'd like, start fighting us instead of fighting with us."
Antonio screamed again, making several loud crashes from the nearby truck he was being held in. There was a faint crack, and then a groan of pain from Antonio. Soon he was quiet again, and Eduard returned with spatters of red on his boot.
"He wouldn't stay still," Eduard said simply, wiping the blood from his boot. "Either way, he's out again."
"It's fine, as long as he's asleep. You ready to go?" Toris looked down at Raivis, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Raivis shook his head, pulling the blanket around him. "Can I just stay here and sleep?"
"Sure. You can come whenever you feel like it. It's perfectly fine if you want to sit this one out too." Toris gave the boy a final ruffle of his hair, then grabbed his bag and followed Feliks and Eduard out on the march to the battlefield.
Ludwig lay flat in the mud, clutching his rifle. The attack had been going on for several hours now, the sun finally starting to peek over the horizon. The early morning light illuminated the battlefield, and Ludwig only wanted the sun to go back down so he wouldn't have to see how many Germans were dead. As for Ludwig himself, he was tired, hungry, in pain from lying on a rock for several hours unable to shift for fear of his head being shot off, and ready to end this battle, be it in defeat or victory.
All together, the Germans were close to falling apart.
Not only did Feliks fight with surprising force, but Toris and Eduard were able to hold their ground. Ludwig had completely underestimated their strengths. He remembered the two as weak, trembling Baltic nations, not these powerful killers that had suddenly shown up. Even Raivis had changed, taking anyone he could grab prisoner, writing down names in a torn up journal. It was almost frightening to see how many captives he was taking; for such a small boy he could point a gun at their heads and seem rather intimidating. Ludwig forgot just how old Raivis actually was, much older than the German himself.
As things stood, for every enemy soldier killed, four more Germans were shot or captured. Ludwig could only watch in dread as his men died on the field, their bodies being searched by Raivis and numerous other guards. He had several guards with him as he moved about, forming a protective circle around the boy. He could move about as he pleased, taking advantage of the land and destructive forces.
Feliks had taken over the battlefield and shaped it to his liking. After using several grenades, mortar fire, and mines, they had built themselves a solid line of defense composed of partially destroyed buildings, fallen trees, and barbed wires. It made Ludwig cringe to see his once beautiful city reduced to rubble and bloodied grass, the bodies of soldiers strewn about like playthings.
Most of the dead were dressed in German uniforms, the army green stained red. Ludwig tried to keep his hopes up by telling himself that he could only see a tiny part of the attack on Berlin. Maybe in the other areas the Germans were winning, pushing back Feliks' invasion.
Still, he knew that with a few well-placed attacks, Feliks could gain a large city in his territory, giving him the upper hand on Germany.
For a split second, Ludwig wondered if this was revenge for everything his country did to Poland in WWII. Feliks still had a grudge against him, even if he seemed to tolerate Ludwig's presence. It could've been karma for the things he'd done, in the form of this war. The Empire of Poland-Lithuania could be determined to make Germany pay.
He quickly dismissed the thoughts, returning his focus to the battlefield in front of him. Aiming his rifle at an oncoming soldier, he took a deep breath, waited a second, and then pulled the trigger. Ludwig didn't even feel remorseful as he watched the man drop. He had stopped feeling guilty for killing people long ago, as it only made things more painful in the end. Wars were already hurt him deeply, and he didn't need to feel regret for ending someone's life. It would just be another problem to work over.
Suddenly there was a new soldier in his sights, dressed in the German uniform. It took Ludwig a minute to realize it was Gilbert sprinting towards him, as his white hair was tinted brown from all the dirt and dust. His guards were following close behind, trying to stop the frantic Prussian.
"Get back here!" Ludwig barked. "You're going to get yourself killed!"
"What do you think I'm doing?!" Gilbert snapped, still sprinting as fast as he could. "I found Eduard! If we take him hostage, at least Toris and Raivis might slow down enough to push them back!" Gilbert stopped behind a large building, a stupid, huge grin on his face.
"Come here!" Gilbert waved to Ludwig. "You'll get killed there!"
"Why?" Ludwig looked puzzled, considering Gilbert was the one out in the open.
"Just get over here!"
Ludwig snuck over to Gilbert, still slightly bewildered as to why Gilbert was yelling so much. He could see the battle going on, and his guards were by his side, so he didn't think he was in danger.
"First off, Eduard can see you. Second, if we capture Eduard, that'll send all of their communications out the window. He's in that warehouse, the one that has the red doors." Gilbert said excitedly, pointing to said warehouse.
Ludwig looked at his older brother, then at his guards. "You, go scout first." He pointed to one of his guards, who gave him a quick salute. You're old, you probably can't see that well," Ludwig said to Gilbert, brushing the dust off of his brother's hair to make him a bit more recognizable.
Gilbert frowned at Ludwig, obviously not amused with the jibe at his age. "I'm not that old. And don't fuss over me." He swatted his hand away, much to Ludwig's annoyance.
The two peeked out from behind the wall, watching the guard grab several of the troops from the front lines, giving Ludwig a thumbs-up and motioning to the mostly intact building. Ludwig nodded, running a finger across his throat and shaking his head no, telling him to keep Eduard alive. The guard saluted, leading his tiny group towards the warehouse.
With a swift kick, they busted down the door and ran inside. Ludwig couldn't see what was going on inside, but he could occasionally see the two of them fighting in the window. Eduard was shouting threats in Estonian and broken German, and from what Ludwig could understand it was something about killing the soldiers' family one by one. They were not the most effective threats, as the soldiers weren't responding.
Seconds later, they proudly dragged Eduard out. The Estonian had a large gash on the side of his head, blood pouring down his face. Gilbert began cheering, and ran up to the two. Eduard glared at Gilbert while he congratulated them on the successful capture. Ludwig nervously looked around, hoping no one would try and kill the three of them. They did have the cover of a building plus all the guards, so it wasn't like they were sitting ducks, but it still made him nervous.
Suddenly, Eduard looked directly at Ludwig, a tiny smile on his face. He nodded his head ever so slightly, and Ludwig felt the familiar sting of a bullet graze his left arm.
"Damn it, I missed."
"Please, let me try. You're shaking."
"I am not!"
"Look at your hands, and tell me you are not shaking."
"I'm just excited!"
Ludwig couldn't recognize the voices, but the first was painfully obvious as the perfectly manicured hand grabbed Ludwig's uniform.
"Like, nice try. You think you, like, found us first?" Feliks giggled. Even during a war, his nails were painted a sparkly pink, sticking out from his fingerless gloves. One sparkly pink finger was curled over the trigger of his handgun, ready to shoot again.
Automatically all of the guards were sighted on Toris and Feliks, about fourteen high powered rifles aimed at the two with only a pistol to share between them.
"Whoa," Feliks handed the pistol to Toris, holding up his now free hand. "We're all friends here."
Toris nodded in agreement, looking down at Ludwig with disgust. He had the revolver pointed at Ludwig's head, daring him to try and move. Ludwig and Gilbert's guards were doing the same, glaring into Toris' sea green eyes.
"Get away from my brother!" Gilbert yelled from somewhere behind Ludwig, but he didn't want to turn his head to look.
Feliks dropped Ludwig's collar, took the pistol back, and aimed at Gilbert.
"If you come any closer, I will shoot." Feliks waved his gun at Gilbert menacingly, although it didn't quite have the same effect with the nail polish. "And don't think I won't. It'll take about two billion bullets to get me down, but only two for Mr. Awesome over there."
Gilbert was silent, stepping up to Ludwig's side. Toris raised an eyebrow, questioning Gilbert silently. Two guards had a hand on the both of the Prussian's wrists, holding him back behind the cover of HK417's.
Gilbert stood and watched the enemy for what seemed like an hour. No one said a word, just looking from one person to the next.
Finally, Gilbert made a move. Tearing the guards' hands off of his, he lunged for the gun in Feliks hands, attempting to knock it away from him. Feliks held tight to his pistol, even after Gilbert had kicked him multiple times and tried biting Feliks' hands. The guards kept a steady aim at Feliks' head, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Toris just stood and watched, quite thrilled with the scene unfolding before him.
"Ew!" Feliks screeched, pushing Gilbert away. "Like, weren't you ever told to not bite people?!"
"I'll do whatever I want, you sick bastard!"
Feliks unexpectedly found himself pinned under an angry Prussian, who was punching him and screaming insults. The two rolled around in the dirt, trying to strangle each other and screaming curses.
"Like, Oh, my God! When was the last time you took a bath?" Feliks scoffed, grabbing Gilbert's throat.
Ludwig sat for a second, astounded. How could they have missed Feliks? He attracted attention better than anyone he knew. Even without the sparkly fingernail polish.
Then Ludwig snapped back to reality, realizing Gilbert was being strangled by the enemy. Ludwig looked up at Toris, who was still watching the two fighting. Before Toris could react, Ludwig had grabbed his legs and pulled him to the ground.
Toris wasn't as easy as Feliks was. The Lithuanian already had his arms wrapped around Ludwig's neck, trying to choke him. The pistol the two shared lay in the dirt just barely out of his reach. Ludwig grabbed for it, trying to move closer. Toris pulled him back, pressing even tighter on his throat. Ludwig's vision was beginning to go, making it harder to crawl towards the revolver. Everything was swirling into a blur of colors, the revolver barely recognizable in the dirt. Why weren't the guards shooting yet? Unless they were busy with something more life threatening, they should've riddled Toris with bullets by now.
Then, by some miracle, he grabbed the revolver, cocked it, and put a new hole in Toris' shoulder.
He instantly let go of Ludwig, crying out in pain. Ludwig hastily got to his feet, pointing the gun at Toris. Toris didn't even notice, as he was clutching his shoulder and trying to stop the bleeding.
Ludwig turned back to look at Gilbert, who had Feliks pinned to the ground. He looked up at Ludwig triumphantly, still wearing a stupid grin.
"Actually," Gilbert panted, wiping at a trickle of blood running down his cheek. "My last bath was three days ago. Pretty good by my book."
Ludwig saw Gilbert's eyes widen, and he opened his mouth to say something. As Gilbert tried to get up, Ludwig heard a dull crack and his vision blurred again. There was a long string of gunfire as he dropped to the ground, trying to shake the blackness from his vision.
"Three days?" He heard Toris say smugly, "That's very long. We'll have to get you cleaned up at camp."
Then he slipped into the darkness.
A/N: Hello! I can't believe it's almost Halloween! Well, we still have twenty-one days, but that's pretty close. I can't wait to break out my Russia cosplay!
Anyway, I created a motto for this story. It really fits it, according to a few reviews.
"Welcome to Numbers from Poland, numerically inaccurate since June 2015!"
See you next chapter!