Lovino's hands moved fast across the keyboard. He hit Enter and sat back. "There we go. Now all we have to wait as we get a response."
"I'm confused," said Alfred. "Why are you calling the church?"
"It's not what you think it is," Lovino said, tapping a fingernail on the desk.
Alfred still couldn't understand, as vague as the response was. Feliciano decided to be nice and stepped in, explaining it carefully to America.
"We really mean to contact the mafia. It's just they don't like to be contacted, and they're not going to make it easy. They can help get us the information we want, but first we need to bypass the church. We've moved the two boards closer together, as close as they can get, in order to get more efficient access."
"But that's like mixing hydrogen and fire together," said Alfred.
"That's . . . true," said Lovino, considering the analogy. "But it's the only way. The mafia is a serious pain in my ass, but you can't deny that they can get things done fast. Plus, they owe me, after everything I've done for them. It's the least they can do."
"What 'access' are you guys hoping for, other than information?"
"That's classified."
The laptop beeped.
"There," said Lovino. "See? Now all we need to do is ask, and we'll get the information we want."
"Isn't that making them do all the work?" Gilbert said.
"That's the point," Feliciano said. "The mafia sits there all day doing nothing anyway."
"That's not true," Lovino protested.
"Is it okay to pin all the work your henchmen?" Alfred said. "That's injustice!"
"My henchmen? I wish."
The rest of the meeting passed by in relative silence. The nations watched as Lovino worked the computers, forwarding his orders to the mafia while he sifted through dozens of sites and information reports.
The mafia kept sending different documents to his laptop; Lovino scanned through all of them at a surprisingly fast pace. Each piece of information got closer and closer to the answer, the newest pages popping up on top of the old ones, which soon became irrelevant and were automatically sent to the Recycling Bin.
"Dude," Alfred said. "They're sending all this stuff to you? You guys are faster than I thought."
"I told you I was going to hack into the global network database," Lovino answered. "They're looking for and sending information to me in real time, while I sort through what they send me. Since my network is connected to theirs, the government databases are open to all of us. Of course I'm not just sitting here merely reading reports; I'm also gathering intel. It's not that simple, though, even if it appears to be."
"That's a rather fast processor," Ludwig remarked. "What model is it?"
"No idea," Lovino said offhandedly, his eyes trained on the screen. "It's not available to the public yet—and don't get any ideas by breaking apart this thing and mass producing it."
"Damn," Alfred said.
"There!" Feliciano pointed at a documentation. "That one. It's that one."
"You sure?" Lovino said, moving aside the other pages and bringing Feliciano's document forward. The information was still coming, but they popped up behind the selected one. "What makes you think this is it?"
"I knew it," Feliciano said, reading the page over. "Of course the Russians would have something like that."
"What do you mean? What about Russians?" said Gilbert, his drifting attention snapping back at the keyword 'Russians'.
Lovino suddenly smacked his face. "Dio! You're right. Why hadn't I seen this before?"
Feliciano faced his brother. "We need to ask Greece. He's been excavating his mother's ruins for centuries. He's bound to have found something like that over the years."
"But we'd be bringing another into this."
"Do we have a choice?"
Ludwig quickly read over the document. The closer he got to the end, his eyebrows scrunched together, his eyes widening in alarm. "You know what?" he said. "I think we should ask him anyway. We're definitely not bringing Ivan into this."
"Can someone tell me what's going on?" Alfred demanded.
Gilbert twirled his finger in a circle. "Didn't we say you were worrying about the guns?"
Alfred scowled and did as Gilbert's finger dictated: he turned and walked away. Afterwards when the sound of running water could be heard, it was revealed that Alfred had wandered into the bathroom.
He was better off there anyhow.
"But it was found first at Russia's," argued Gilbert. "You know Heracles. He's easily offended about anyone intruding on his excavation sites."
"Do you want to live or not?" Lovino said. "It's either ask Greece or get kicked in the ass by Russia. Your choice."
"Well, when you put it that way . . ."
"Let's keep searching, until we're absolutely sure," said Feliciano. "It's late, and Heracles is probably sleeping anyway."
"I don't understand how that guy can sleep all day," Gilbert muttered, shaking his head. "He was sleeping through the meeting, in the middle of all that noise! Imagine if he found out what was really going on. Do you think he'd be able to sleep then?"
"No time to suppose things," Ludwig said. He waved a hand. "Bring up the next page, Lovino."
"I know, I know. Don't tell me what to do, bastard."
The older Italian twin brought forward the newest set of documents. These ones also belonged to Russia's database. If they weren't discreet in this process and erase all evidence of their existence, Ivan would find out about them hacking into his government system . . .
I can't finish that sentence because there wouldn't be anything to write about once Russia is done.
"So to summarize the situation," said Ludwig, "in the 1950's, Russian excavators discovered some old ruins in the northern Ural Mountains region. A few days later, they mysteriously disappear without leaving a trace."
"This next one says that one of them left behind a notebook," pointed out Gilbert. "Man, diaries are awesome. Especially ones belonging to me."
"Don't sway off the subject, bruder."
"The notebook was tediously scanned," read Lovino. "It says that they had discovered a great tunnel in these ruins that descended deep into the mountains. It's so deep that when they dropped a torch through, they couldn't even hear it impact the ground. The light from of it flashed out. Actually, the writer says that he wasn't even sure if the light just got so tiny it disappeared, or if it really did hit the cavern floor."
"It's not just a fissure or something?" Gilbert asked.
"I don't think they'd encrypt an article about fissures this prudently," said Feliciano. "There's more to these ruins."
"You're right. Basically, this guy died writing about a pursuer chasing all the excavators to their deaths," Lovino summed up. "He was one of the last ones to be killed. Whatever these ruins were . . . Whatever killed them . . ."
"You think it's the same creature that attacked Antonio?" Ludwig questioned.
"No." Lovino narrowed his eyes at the document. "I know it's the same."
"They don't say anymore about the subject," said Feliciano. "Apparently they could gather nothing else from the scene. Not even the bodies were found. There were only the ruins . . . and strangely shaped footprints in the snow."
"We need to know more about these ruins and what happened," Ludwig said. "If it's not Heracles, then I don't see another choice. We'd have to take it up with Ivan."
"We need to speak with Heracles first," said Lovino. "If these creatures that killed the excavators came directly out of the ruins, then there's a good chance that they've established a civilization on this earth at some point. Greece houses one of the most ancient civilizations in the world, complete with all evidence. I don't know about you, but I'd rather find out as much as I can before I go walking straight to my death."
"Agreed," said Feliciano.
"The awesome me wishes to live a little bit longer, so I concur."
Ludwig sighed. "Well, I suppose if you all are being cowards, then so shall I."
"Ve~! Ludwig, I'd knew you'd pull through."
"If only Grandpa Bastard was alive today," Lovino said. "We could ask him about ancient civilizations. I'm sure he would know a thing or two."
"You're right!" Feliciano said. "With all the conquering he did, I'm sure he would have uncovered something strange. Hey, maybe we should go poking in his diaries."
Lovino smirked. "I'd love to see what perverted crap he wrote in there."
"He sounds like an awfully annoying person," Ludwig said. "Figures why my grandfather dumped him."
"Hey, guys," said Alfred, walking out the bathroom. "Do any of you . . . feel like someone's watching us?"
"I'm watching you," said Feliciano.
"No, no . . . I mean, someone other than us?"
"Why?" Ludwig began slowly. "Do you think someone's watching us?"
"Yeah," said Alfred, blinking fast. "I felt it when I looked in the mirror. It reminds me of a spell Arthur told me about once . . . People can use these magic floating mirrors to look in on other people. But he said there was a weakness. It's just . . . I saw myself in the mirror."
"Yeah," said Lovino. "That's what mirrors do."
"NO!" Alfred shouted almost frantically. "I saw the back of me. Someone's spying on us. I think they just heard everything you said."
In unison, the nations glanced at each other. One single thought popped into each of their heads:
Crap.
The glass ball shattered and Arthur fell back to avoid the spew of magical shards.
What followed was heavy silence.
"Did you . . ." Francis' voice came out sounding hoarse. "Did you catch all that? I got lost somewhere during 'disappear without a trace'."
Arthur nodded numbly. "Er, yeah. Doesn't mean I can process it, though."
"You do know what this means, don't you?" Francis said. "Antonio has been attacked. Lovino was telling the truth the first time. Strange thing is why he decided to hide the fact afterwards."
"Frog, I think that's because of what attacked Antonio."
"Ah. Touché."
"We can't tell anybody about this," Arthur said. He locked eyes with Francis. "We can't. If they found out . . . I understand now. I believe the children had the right idea in keeping this from everyone. We're dealing with something on a much larger scale, bigger than we've ever imagined."
"But if the other nations don't know, they could very well be next. In three days, the World Summit will end and everyone will move on back to their respective countries." Francis frowned. "And when that happens . . . the creature, or whatever attacked Antonio, will not hesitate to bring us down."
"Then I suppose, until then, we will have to protect the others to the best of our abilities."
"Do we tell les enfants?"
"It's likely Alfred's suspecting me already, but the both of us need to work on the sidelines. They are taking care of the research. We must also do our part."
"We? You're finally acknowledging my participation in this?"
"Frog, this is the only time when I'll admit I need help, much less your help. Now shut up about it and tell no one."
But something else was bugging Francis.
"Angleterre," he said. "What I don't get, if this really is all true, is why this is happening. Why are these monsters attacking nations only?"
Arthur sat back and glared at the ceiling. "You know what? That's a really good question."
The real question, though, was what the people were going to do. If the nations die, what happens to the world?
Oh, Hetalia . . . Racism to its finest. That's what I like about this show; you can be racist without offending anybody. Okay, maybe I shouldn't phrase it that way.
Hetalia: Where racism is directed at EVERYBODY! :D
That's better.
P.S. We're going to have another nation get attacked soon . . . Don't know when, but it's soon.
