Reykjavik, 5th June 2035
There was nothing icy about Iceland, discounting his personality.
There might have been once, but not anymore.
Emil fucking hated volcanoes.
It was quite unfortunate that he essentially was one. He remembered when Japan, Chile, Romano and himself used to have those 'Volcanoes Anonymous' meetings.
But now, the volcano Eyjafjallajökull was erupting. Again.
It had grown more frequent lately, but now it was a daily occurrence.
The dust rained down every day, searing lungs and making it impossible to breathe. Most people had escaped in boats, since air travel was now impossible in Europe, and communications were scrambled.
The Icelandic had been stranded on the island for months. The last he'd heard, Egypt had made Africa a unified continent, but was struggling with insurgents, and Turkey was holding up against the unified Middle East. He hadn't seen the other Nordics for ages.
Which made what he was about to do worse.
He realised that he'd never told Norway he loved him. Ever.
Iceland wondered how he would react. Probably try to hug himself in the mirror in the morning.
He signed.
Oslo, 6th June 2035
"Lillebror!"
Norway went to hug Iceland, who was standing in his hallway. He soon realised that Iceland was very flat, very cold, and very mirror-shaped.
He screamed.
"Hvers vegna gerðir þú að fara?"
Official Character Body Count: 11 (Ukraine, Estonia, Canada, Cuba, Russia, Belarus, Belgium, the Netherlands, China, Hong Kong, USA and Iceland)