Author's Notes: We join the band of runaway fugitive nations as they come close to the answer and in other news something happens with India.
Please enjoy :) And thank you for reading
After a group laugh at Alfred's melodramatic acting a tense-free mood settled them. The cafe owner was a cheery fellow when he came out to talk to them and tolerated tourist behaviour, as long as they ordered plenty. Having learned about the nations being light on cash, Taylor offered to pay for them all. Those horrid scientists, in a twisted way, were thankfully very good employers. What better way to get rid of the guilty cash than to help the ones it sought to hurt?
"Something wrong?" Bruce asked while he pointed to the small package in the Canadian's hands. The northern nation had been turning it over and over again frantically in his hands as if examining it with x-ray vision.
Matthew raised his head from his subconscious playing, "Well, it's weird but remember the green vision that I had explained earlier?" he waited a bit before he continued, "This was just gleaming with it and when it was handed over I saw a bright flash of light...I was just wondering what it meant." He looked around into the group members' eyes, "Did any of you see something like that?"
Their unified shaking heads confirmed what he had assumed. He was the only able to see any of this, which meant it was almost like a sure sign of insanity.
If nations could suffer insanity of their own accord.
Beside him was an awfully quiet Taylor whom was further distanced from the rest of them at the table. Their brow formed hills above far away eyes that stared into the table. It worried the northern nation.
Matthew offered his concern and received a slumped down sigh from the individual, clearly defeated from trying to hide their emotions. Within the tormented person's mind haunted a single thought, perhaps those trackers were not telling them a bluff. It was even more likely that they wanted them to reject their proposal, to rationalize and carry out their sadistic intentions. The human understood how twisted humans could get.
"Well I can't help but think what the trackers meant by making things worse..." Taylor's words trailed off, unsure.
"Don't worry about it, some nutjobs are just...nuts?" Alfred joked and then lowered his voice so only the table could hear, " 'sides Germany has raised security after the whole Egypt's gone transparent thing so there's no way they could get to them now."
Taylor forced a little lop-sided smile of hope. A few minutes later, a waiter headed their way with a few dishes so immediately the conversation stopped. Eagerly, it was replaced by the sounds of the meal. All of them had missed lunch thanks to the museum fiasco so it felt good to eat. The American could have swallowed his food whole at the rate he was going.
The bill was not much of a surprise, large and fat, but Taylor had no problem in dealing with all of it, not even a wince of regret. A large Indian Rupee bill was pulled out of the wallet and left a large amount as tip. Wary of greedy eyes, the wallet was hidden quickly again before they walked out of the cafe.
Lowered in the sky, the sun had increased its heat onto the surface it dictated, undeterred by any clouds. Temperature-sensitive tourists neared themselves towards various ice cold drink vendors and shade refuges. It hadn't been so bad earlier or perhaps that was because they had been so distracted by their escape. Whatever it was, the feeling attacked Matthew with its full force. The Canadian wiped his brow.
Give the country negative degree temperatures any day and he would handle them with the same tenacity or indifference as any Nordic or Russian. Give him this and...see him melt. Unfortunately, his companions were not all that understanding of his suffering.
"You're kidding me..." Bruce teased with a laugh and stopped walking to stretch his arms out to soak up a bit more sun, "You can't handle this?"
Alfred gladly joined in, "Should've seen him when he came by to Arizona. Nothing but weather complaints, and he ended up spending most the time inside by the air conditioner."
Matthew shot an annoyed, death threatening, glare at the two, "Visit the Northwest Territories during winter, let's see you deal with that." He spotted a frozen drink seller at the side, "Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to enjoy a little life-saving drink. If you want to make fun of me and my lack of heat tolerance, please go elsewhere."
Ignoring his clear message, the two laughed as they all tagged along behind him.
India couldn't have been happier to be able to move again. Plus, he was also free from those horrendous voices of his nightmare. Imagine, for the first time ever since he was admitted into this hospital, he had a quiet dream of calmness. He could return back to his normal routine yet, he couldn't.
The moment the voices were expelled something else had surged into his mind, nearly forgotten memories...those of a past that he hadn't even existed in, a history of his own ancestors, kingdoms that ruled the land that would hold defiance against great empires. Their languages, their stories, their culture were now clear within his mind. Alive.
India wasn't sure what it meant, these borrowed vivid memories. He would have to bring this up with Germany and the others, perhaps bring light to a cure, a way to escape. In addition, it will narrow down their search for the culprit...a culprit that clearly wasn't Canada as he, India, had believed. Or he had been forced to say he believed.
He held nothing against the country, in spite of of the screams he had let out. Those had forced themselves out from a nightmare he could not control. Those were not of his volition but of theirs. Those voices feared him, that soft-spoken nation and through them made India fear him as well. In light of his situation now, he could not be anything but grateful for whatever Canada was doing. It was clear to him Canada was fighting on their behalf, even as the nations blamed him and hunted for him. He seemed to be the only able to deal with this-for some destined reason perhaps?
He wanted to explain that.
But he couldn't at the moment; he still fought to remove the drugs within his bloodstream. He was barely able to lift his eyelids. While his foggy mind cleared a bit he could hear snippets of conversations from the people checking up on him in the room. They were deciding whether or not to allow the drugs to fade to feed him. There was still reluctance after the noise the patients had caused but they couldn't keep knocking out a person or else there would be unwanted side effects.
He was tired but his hunger weighed out any need to sleep longer. He yawned, and he could hear the conservation stop. He breathed slowly to gather his bearings to open his eyes, and what he saw was somewhat amusing. Terrified eyes stared at him, hands clamped over their ears in anticipation for his freak out. He gave them a weak smile.
"It's okay," he attempted to say. No words came forth; his throat couldn't seem to make them. He coughed but his second try failed, then his third then his fourth. It didn't take too long to understand. He was no longer able to speak.
One of them, upon seeing his constant coughing, left to fetch some water yet even the cold calm liquid resolved nothing. India downed two cups easily but still he struggled. Desperately he tried to mouth his words but his audience wasn't very good at lip reading so in the end he gestured them to get him a paper pad. Rushed scribbles were scratched onto the clear white paper.
When he held it up, the nation was certain that he wrote "Everything is fine now. Please get Germany and France I have something to say to them." But instead of comprehension he was responded with even more bewildered looks of confusion. He checked back at his words...perhaps they were too ineligible from his haste.
He tried again, forcing himself to write each letter out carefully. He repeated his plea. This time, there was an answer but not the one he had been expecting.
"Umm...India, sir. May you please write that in English?"
Sweet frozen ice felt so delicious under this tyrannical sun. The heat had been unrelenting force for the past few hours. They were unsure of where to go, or even if they could go anywhere. So, they continued to spend time walking around but wary of their surroundings. They were certain that they could no longer return to their hotel room but attempting to take another flight would get them caught, especially now that their diplomatic immunity and nation benefits were revoked. Local police would be on their tail.
All of sudden, they halted in their tracks. A large group of people ahead of them were gathering. Then quickly, there were shouts of hoorays, clinking glasses and laughter. Someone was hosting a large celebration right on the very street they were walking down*. It was huge, relatives, neighbours and even random strangers seizing the opportunity for free food and alcohol were adding into the mix. As much as it would be, the party was bound to get rowdy soon...and the group needed to think.
So, to avoid being consumed by the party-goers, Bruce suggested to move over to the adjacent street through a dark alleyway. But by the time they managed to reach the near end of it that proved to be a mistake. CRASH! The sound of the large metal pieces falling behind them distracted all of them. They turned around but found nothing there. Then, the group looked forward.
That masked person they encountered in China was back. The figure stood silently watching them. Matthew gritted his teeth as he had rather hoped not to encounter this one ever again.
"Not you," Matthew at last muttered.
There was an amused chuckle. "Well aren't you happy to see me, master," followed the sarcastic comment.
"You show up only to annoy me with that title as well as give nothing but riddles and troubles," he then held back the bitterness in his voice to keep himself from playing into the other's hands. "So where are the trackers? Are they coming soon?"
"Quick to jump to conclusions," they replied flatly. "No. They are not coming and I preferred they don't any time soon."
Alfred jumped in, "Aren't you on their side?"
"Yes and no," the voice was choosy with its words. "I'm not too fond of those trackers' flashy ways."
"Hah, as if trying to blow up a plane and injure a vulnerable human bystander in the process isn't flashy," Bruce scoffed.
"THAT WAS UNINTENTIONAL!" the voice snapped much to the astonishment of the group and the person quickly recollected themselves, "You distract me from my goal at hand, I've come to show exactly what your decision back there has brought. Call it a gift." There was a devious silence. "Sincerely from our helpful friend, Japan."
Out from the masked person's inner jacket pocket, an audio player of some sort was pulled out. It wasn't too high-tech and it looked very similar to the handy tool of a journalist. Settings on the machine were fiddled with until the ominous click of the play button was heard. Its volume was set high.
Next, the screams were played.
They gushed out of the machine, a blood-curdling forever that nearly dominated the air except for the distant sounds of that festive celebration. It steeled the nations' gazes with disgust and contempt. Fists shook and it took a great amount of effort to keep them there. Taylor cursed; The human's gut feeling had been right. After being satisfied with the nations expressions, the masked person turned it off.
"You didn't seem to think it was possible…but with that new section activated they have more power over them than you think." There was a cocky smirk from that electronically disguised voice, "So just go home- wait a second…what's that in your hand?"
Instinctively Matthew stuffed it into his pocket, "None of your business."
That only made the figure realize something and become more frustrated, "No…NO! Give that here."
Foolishly, the individual ran at Matthew in an attempt to seize the object. It didn't take too long for a fist to meet the person's mask, static cracks heard right at the point of contact, a shard came away to reveal its eye, bright green as the moors but still that of another human. Though, as reckless as this person was, once realized their disadvantage, retreated as quickly as they struck. Vengeful words cackled through the clearly broken voice device.
"You bet-fizz-eep-fizz-that-saf-" In a rush, the person ran away. This left the nations utterly confused and Matthew was even more irritated.
Soon after a ton climbing and pushing, they all managed to get over the fallen blockade. They had managed to reach that other main road, and continued to walk alongside it.
"I'm not quite sure what to make of it..."France said honestly after several minutes staring at the strange symbols to the disappointment of those who brought the pad of paper to him.
The health committee members had hunted him down after an exhaustive game of Pictionary with India. They could not convince him to write in English, try as they might, but in the end the patient had adapted to drawing out what he needed instead. His images were crude as he was more of an artist in dance than in drawn forms. It took them a while to realize what was meant to be food and even longer still to realize that the girl he had drawn was actually supposed to be France.
Anyways, the French nation had thought about discussing it with Germany but the typing from his room was getting even louder-possibly replying to an endless line of nations demanding answers. He was certain that these were not East Asian characters and Japan confirmed that when he went around showing the other nations. No one at the hospital seemed to be able to decipher them.
"Strange..." England said as he was given the paper, much to the reluctance of his across-the-channel neighbour. "India was the one who wrote these down right?"
A nod replied and the English nation continued, "Without a doubt these are one of his predecessor's languages and judging by this symbol here." He pointed to the pad, "the Late Vedic period*...odd..."
France made a face of surprise, "How?"
"You honestly think all the history I know is from my own home?" he remarked in a sarcastic tone, "I'm pretty sure I have some notebooks on this somewhere."
"Why?"
Two un-amused blinks later, "History plays a large role in us as nations as a curse and a gift. With this fact, I should not splendidly isolate myself into ignorance. I owe others that much." His tone was controlled and flat.
Upon hearing that response, France bluntly asked, "You still remember those times don't you?"
There was no voiced reply. However from the change on England's face, France could tell he was done with this conversation. The green eyes retreated back to the paper pad and stared long and hard at it. It made the bearded man feel guilty but before an apology came out, those furry brows relaxed from thought into determination.
"I have to go home," the grumpy island nation concluded and shoved past the Frenchman, "I'm going to compare this to my books. Perhaps they can provide some rough translations and a few more clues."
Suddenly, as the man was about to go down the stairs to exit out of the hospital, he bumped into a younger black-haired nation who stumbled onto the floor. His right cheek was red. His black eyes were angered and broken.
"H-hong Kong?"
"No one here will listen..." and with those solemn words the lad ran down the steps before England could lay a hand to stop him.
"I can't believe they got to them..." Alfred whispered to no one in their new hotel room. It was already getting very late and they all had to stay somewhere. There was a bit of nervousness entering another hotel, fearful that those trackers had an eye everywhere. Nevertheless, by the end of the day they were all exhausted and wanted to sleep before anything more happened.
Again, Taylor footed the bill, but they still could only manage a small room, so one of them had to make do with the floor. Lucky Alfred got the short straw. He took it like a hero yet that still didn't help him fall asleep any faster.
His head swam around with the never-ending flow of facts that bombarded him. Yet, above all, he hated learning about Japan's hand in all of this. What could a nation possibly gain from helping these deranged people?
Author's Notes: In my honest opinion, the story seems to be getting more and more convoluted as the plot goes on. Hopefully it will all make sense in the end. Anyways, I think I am finally done dealing with China and company so I'll be moving on to focus on the other patients.
* The Late Vedic period is around c. 1000-500 B.C.E. I mainly chose this era for being after the fall of the Indus Civilization since the language looks less like hieroglyphics. Also, it is the time period when the Vedas (meaning "knowledge") were written. These are ancient religious texts in which some contain old rituals, incantations and spells. I know very little and most of this information is taken from h istory-world . o r g (/) india1.h t m
