The Sceret of Britannia

Chpater 8

A/N: Hey guys! I'm back! Happy 2017! I spent Christmas and New Years with strep throat along with my entire family, which sucks. XD Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following.

Russia found England curled up on the roof of the building. His legs drawn up to his chest, with his arms wrapped around them and his head resting on his knees. Russia silently sat down next to him, keeping his distance but still letting England know he was there.

"Is he-?" England trailed off.

"Merely unconscious." Russia replied.

England let out a breath of relief, looking up at Russia. "That's good."

"What happened? You have never acted like this when you lose control. Why now?"

England shivered. "I've been having these dreams, the same two over and over again. One was that I killed everyone with my magic, I couldn't stop myself even though I was struggling with all my might. It was like I was possessed or something. I guess losing control and throwing America against a wall was too close for comfort. It's stupid, really."

Russia shook his head. "It's not stupid. Your dream seems very scary and that's coming from me."

England sighed but smiled. "Ivan, how many times must I tell you. No matter how hard you try, you don't scare me. At this point I know you well enough to know what's going on in your mind, especially since the last time I lost control."

Russia chuckled. "I know. It's nice to have someone who I can talk to that isn't just listening because they think I'll hurt them if they don't."

"Well, that's what friends are for." England smiled back.

Russia stood. "How about we go check on America?"

England winced as he took the hand offered to him. "I guess it couldn't hurt to check on the lad."

They approached the meeting room, pausing when they heard yelling coming from the other end of the door.

"He's dangerous!" A voice that sounded like France yelled. "He could have killed America!"

"But he didn't!" North yelled back. "He just lost control for a moment, it won't happen again."

"We know that's a lie aru." China said annoyed. "It looked like he lost control when he got angry and we all know he's short tempered. It will probably happen again within two minutes of him talking to someone."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Wales practically growled.

"I say we keep him locked up and under supervision until we can find out what is causing this." Germany said. "It's just not natural."

"No way!" Scotland yelled. "I understand you are scared. It's not everyday one blast can almost kill a nation, but you are over reacting. He's your friend and my brother, we of all people know he wouldn't do anything on purpose."

Russia turned to England sympathetically, only to widen his eyes when he saw the nations face. Instead of looking sad or even his usual angry self when people were talking behind his back. He just looked devoid of emotion, his face was completely blank not even his eyes giving away how he feels. He walked into the room ignoring all the shocked and ashamed faces, and walked up to the makeshift chair-bed.

"How is he?" He asked, with no emotion making the countries wince.

"He's fine." Wales said. "He'll wake soon."

"That's good. Now, if you don't mind, I'll be going." Before anyone could stop him, he turned to the door and walked out.

Once England was out of earshot, Russia turned to the rooms occupants, his creepy smile making them shake slightly in fear. "That wasn't very nice talking about Anglia behind his back like that. Especially after you saw how he reacted to hurting America. I would advise you never to do it again da?" He said, then went after England.

"Where are you going?" Russia asked the short nation.

"I don't know. Somewhere I can get away." England replied, then stopped walking, frowning his brows. "Do you hear that?"

Russia stopped as well, listening. "Hear what?"

"It's the singing again."

Russia began to look worried, he didn't hear any singing and he was the country who always was aware of his surroundings. Even listening for it, he didn't hear anything out of the ordinary and it concerned him that England did. "Arthur. How about we go back to the World Meeting, or even this diner I found last time we were here? It was really good." He suggested, hoping to distract the smaller country.

England didn't even so much as look at him. "You go ahead. I'm going to check on something." He said distractedly, then nation hopped away.

Russia quickly looked around, hoping no one saw. He sighed in relief when he found that there was no one around to see. He quickly became concerned again however when he realized that England nation hopped to who knows where, following a voice that he couldn't hear. He quickly took off toward the World Meeting building in hopes that England's brothers would know what to do.

The countries jumped when the door slammed open. America, who had woken up at this point jumped up out of the chairs. "What's goin' on dude?"

Russia ignored him and turned his worried gaze to Scotland. "I fear Anglia's in danger-"

"What!?" Scotland interrupted. "What happened?"

"I am not entirely sure. We were walking when he suddenly froze, he said he heard singing. I didn't hear any singing so I tried to distract him, knowing that mysterious singing is never a good sign, but he just nation hopped away. I have no clue where he went."

Scotland narrowed his eyes and growled. "I do." He turned to Northern Ireland and Wales. "You two stay here and prepare for the worst. I'll go after Arthur."

"What do you mean prepare for the worst?" Germany asked.

"Nothing for now." Scotland replied. "Just don't go anywhere, as long as my brothers are with you you will be fine."

North stepped forward, placing a hand on Scotland's shoulder. "Just, bring our brother back. Okay?"

Scotland nodded. "I'll do my best." With that he nation hopped away.

"Ve~ Germany. I'm scared." Italy whimpered. "What does Scotland mean by prepare for the worst? What is going to happen to Inghilterra?"

Germany looked to the two remaining Brits. "What is going on? Don't try to say nothing because nothing would not cause this reaction."

Wales sighed. "We can't tell you right now okay? The best we can do is wait."

"Is England going to be okay?" America asked worried. "I never got to say sorry to him."

"I hope so." North sighed.

Scotland found himself in the back garden of England's house, he quickly took off into the woods searching for England's magic with his own.

He found him fairly quickly, walking in the direction of the grave. "Arthur!" He called as he ran up to the blonde. He frowned and placed a hand on the younger's shoulder when he got no response, turning the man around.

He immediately recoiled, the nations face was devoid of emotion but his eyes were filled with a strange dark power. It felt so wrong on the Englishman's face, it wasn't the power of the Great British Empire but something much darker and foreign. Just the sight of them made the Scotsman freeze in his tracks, England simply turned and began walking again.

Scotland, realizing that his little brother was being controlled, moved in front of him effectively blocking his path. "You're not going anywhere boyo." He said stubbornly, moving to push England away. Just as his hands touched the younger's chest, the Brit disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. Scotland stood there in shock for a moment before his eyes narrowed in fury. "Fera." He hissed, and took off running through the woods.

He finally arrived at the clearing. England was already standing at the grave stone in the middle of a spell, the Fera whispering in his ears encouraging him to continue.

Scotland took off running toward the grave, only to be surrounded in darkness he knew was the Fera's illusion magic. He was walking for what felt like forever and seemingly making no progress. 'Great.' He thought. 'At this point I probably already passed him.' Right as he was about to give up, five lights flew in through the darkness.

"Dris!" He exclaimed looking at the small Fae. "I've never been more happy to see you!" He knew it wasn't the Fera pretending to be Dris because Fae have White colored magic while the Fera's magic is Black.

"We can get rid of the illusion magic but it's almost too late to save him!" Dris said worriedly. "You must hurry!" Scotland nodded and the Fae set to work. The illusion was gone in a matter of seconds. He found he was still in the clearing, thankfully, and England was still in the process of casting the spell.

He quickly ran over and hugged the nation to his chest, pulling him away from the statue. "Bunny, listen to me. You have to snap out of it. Bad things will happen if you don't. Really bad things. Come on boyo. Wake up."

He heard the Fera snicker from behind him. "It's too late. He's too far gone. Even if you tried to stop him from finishing the spell at this point it could kill him or blind him at the least. There is no hope left for you."

Choosing to ignore the pest, Scotland turned back to England. "I'm sorry Mum, Albion. I failed you both." He said just as the spell finished. He felt himself be thrown away from England, hitting a tree at the edge of the clearing. Right before he passed out, he saw his Mother smiling at him and heard her whisper 'It will be alright. There is still hope yet. You must live to fight another day." A golden dome of light surrounded him before he passed out.

He awoke what felt like mere seconds later, blinking he wondered why he was laying in the grass and, was that smoke? He sat up and looked around, the sky was dark and cloudy the grass was all black and charred, all except a small circle around him which looked untouched. He reached forward towards the dark grass, it broke off as if burnt when he touched it. He suddenly heard screams and turned around, seeing the red glow of distant fires. The trees, he now noticed, were all nothing but burnt stumps.

Getting up, he took off in the direction of the screams, towards the burning town. He moved through the town in shock, the pain filled screams of women, men, and children were much louder now. Just the thought of them choking to death on smoke or worse, living long enough to become a victim of the flames in the burning buildings was enough to send a shiver down his spine, despite the extreme heat. He already knew everyone was too far gone to save, a quick check with his magic only confirmed it and made him feel useless.

He kept moving, the deeper he got the less he heard the screams. It was, in a way, worse than hearing them, for he knew that the people who used to live here had already succumbed to the flames. The smell of burning flesh was strong, and coupled with the thick smoke made breathing a challenge. Still, he kept moving forward, trying to find the source of the fire. It wouldn't do much for the people who used to live in the town, but he might be able to stop it from happening anywhere else.

He reached the heart of the city, a burnt and useless fountain stood miserably in the middle of the wreckage. In front of it stood Scotland's worst nightmare, someone he had hoped he would never see as long as he would live. His little brother, Arthur Kirkland or more commonly known The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, stood looking around his face full of madness and joy.

Scotland was taken back by how different his younger brother looked. His eyes were glowing a mixture of green and red and filled with insanity, his lips were upturned in a wide grin that reminded him of a villain from one of America's comic books. He was wearing an ash grey long sleeve, button up shirt with black stripes, a crimson red vest, ash grey pants, black boots, a crimson cloak attached by a bowtie of the same color, and a crimson top hat with a single black stripe at the base. A green pendant hung from his neck, glowing softly.

"Bunny? What happened to you?" It came off casual, as if he knew this would happen. He was so shocked he didn't know how to properly react.

England turned to him. "What do you mean brother? I feel great!" It was a mixture of two voices, one was England's own and one was much deeper and darker. He knew it to be the thing who dared to possess his brother.

Scotland sneered. "You aren't my brother. Not now anyway."

The possessed England pouted. "That isn't very nice. I'm still the same old Arthur."

"No you're not." Scotland growled. "Arthur. The real Arthur wouldn't do this. He wouldn't torch his own country."

England laughed maniacally. "What do you know about me? Maybe I thought 'Hey I'm bored of these people. Why don't I have a little fun'?"

"Because, it isn't you! I know it! If it was really you, a burning at this scale would have you incapacitated. I know this isn't the only town burning. Yet you are still standing here unscathed and laughing."

England frowned. "You don't trust me then. That hurts Alba, it really does, and you know what I do to people who hurt me." He smirked and launched a wall of fire at Scotland who just barely dodged it.

"Arthur! I know it's hard, but you have to fight it! Please!" Scotland screamed desperately.

"Fight what!? All you ever did was keep my magic sealed! You are the reason I was so weak, now I'm strong! You can't take my powers back! I won't let you!" He yelled back, sending yet another wall of flame which Scotland dodged much quicker.

"Come on! I know it's not you doing this Arthur! Please, fight him!" Scotland said, hoping to snap him out of it.

"No!" England screamed and sent the largest wall of fire yet.

Scotland knew he couldn't dodge this one so he summoned a wall of water to protect him. It took the heat from the flames but he was still pushed back into a building. Struggling, he managed to stand and looked defiantly at his younger brother. "Fight it Arthur! You can do it! I-" What he was planning on saying next was cut off by a gunshot ringing out, the bullet hitting right beside England's foot. He growled and jumped back, pulling his cloak around him then vanished in a flash of green and black.

America, China, and Germany stepped out from behind a building, each holding a gun. "Dude! Where have you been?" America asked.

"What do you mean? I was only gone for a few minutes." He noticed the look the three nations gave him. "Wasn't I?"

"A few minutes?" China scoffed. "Try two years aru."

"What?!" Scotland exclaimed. "Two years? How?"

Germany stopped them. "How about we finish this conversation at the base, where it's safe."

The 'base' was England's mansion, it was heavily guarded by a magic barrier. Northern Ireland, Wales, Ireland, Norway, and Romania all had to allow him to enter.

After a few quick greetings, the nations in the mansion went into the living room. Only a few were left; Australia, New Zealand, Sealand, Canada, Denmark, Sweden (Who looked deeply saddened by the lack of Finland), Italy, Japan, Russia, Romano, Spain, Greece, and Prussia.

Once they were all comfortable Scotland looked at the others expectantly. "So, what happened the two years I have been gone?"

Germany sighed. "We only know a little of what exactly happened from your brothers, but they told me you never gave them the full story. The short version is that all of a sudden England went crazy. He took over the world, killing and torturing thousands of people, torching cities when he gets bored. The only reason there are so many of us left is the magic barrier that Norway, Romania, and your brothers set up. Only those who still have at least some of their country intact can leave without vanishing." He finished.

Scotland leaned forward and put his head in his hands. "This is all my fault. I was meant to protect him, stop this from ever happening and I failed."

"It's not your fault." France said. "It's all of ours. The day that it happened was the day he lost control and hurt America, it was the day we threatened to lock him up again. If it wasn't for us it could have probably been prevented. This was everyone's doing."

"Thanks France." Scotland smiled weakly.

"So now that you're here, can you tell us exactly what happened with Artie?" America asked.

Scotland sighed. "I guess I should start from the beginning."