Thanks to Eternal Nexus Warrior, Terra, shoujochan, Space Trooper, pastaaddict, ScandinavianTrash and magicflyingmintbunnies for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 50

Israel sighed, watching White intently. She was still in shock after seeing her sister's corpse. He had thought that taking her to the beach might comfort her, but it only seemed to depress her further. It was still Hout Bay's beach, but she could clearly feel her sister's absence.

Israel had left her alone for a little while in order to procure ice-cream in the hopes that it would cheer her up. It was during that time that he had felt a great pain in his chest, along with the red ribbon appearing. He had been confused, but wasn't too concerned.

At least, until San Marino called.

Luckily, he had been away from White when he received the call, which told him that one of their members had been killed. There was also a warning to stay away from Liechtenstein.

He was also informed of the fact that Egypt was injured, but that Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia and United Arab Emirates were all dead. And that Oman, Yemen and Qatar were travelling with America. Syria was apparently with Turkey, Greece, Cyprus and Hungary.

Well, it was at least a start with tearing down the Middle Eastern nations. And Israel wondered if he was the only one that could see potential disaster for their enemies.

But that had been a while back. He had returned to White with ice-cream, but she didn't even open the wrapper. It was probably completely melted by now.

He knew the importance that she not realise that he was a willing member of Amodi. She had already lost so much.

But Amodi had helped him to be with her again. And for that, he was grateful. Not to mention, they were destroying the nations surrounding his own country. When he finally decided to return, the Middle East would be a safer place.

For now, he would do whatever White wanted him to do. He would make sure that she truly fell in love with him.

And he wouldn't let anyone take her away from him.

At some point after Portugal had left the kitchen, Brazil had felt a tug on his hair, followed by a whisper.

"I wish to speak to you."

He recognised the voice as Adamastor's, and so he excused himself and went to his room, where he and the spirit could speak in peace.

He saw as Adamastor became visible, and the other had a tired expression on his face.

"What happened?" Brazil asked. "Is Annie alright?"

"Not really," Adamastor said. "Her sister, Hout Bay, was killed by Amodi. She saw the body."

Brazil's hands clenched into fists.

"And I'm guessing he was there to comfort her?" he asked.

"He tried to," Adamastor said. "But at the moment she's inconsolable."

Brazil felt anger and sorrow intermingling in his chest. He wanted to be there for her. He wanted to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright. But he couldn't even get close to her. He was trapped in Italy, and she was with a nation who had betrayed the rest of the world by joining Amodi.

"We almost had a window of opportunity for your escape," Adamastor explained. "But it wasn't the right one."

"What do you mean?" Brazil asked.

Adamastor revealed the thread that bound the two of them together.

"Amodi has these as well," Adamastor explained. "All the nations that have joined Amodi have these. Portugal too, though his connection is unwilling. He will cooperate with whatever Amodi wishes from him, and in return none of his former colonies will be hurt."

Brazil swallowed a lump in his throat. Portugal would sacrifice everything, including his freedom, in order to keep them all safe. And it was obvious to them that Portugal didn't want to be there.

What did they even want with Portugal, anyway?

"When they conquer you, more bonds are formed," Adamastor explained. "These bonds are invisible, even to them. But it's one of the reasons why nations under their control die when they try to break free. It was partially because of the contracts that the African nations were forced to sign. Once they had enough nations to sign it, the rules of the contract started to apply to everyone else they conquered. But every rule has a loophole."

"And the loophole is what would provide the window of opportunity?" Brazil asked.

"That's right. When one of their members die, the bonds snap, and they need to mend themselves. It allows someone the chance to escape, whether it's one of them or someone they conquered. The problem is, we need to wait for someone with the same kind of bonds that conquered you to die. Someone bound by hatred."

Brazil's eyes hardened in determination.

"One of them has already died," Brazil said. "It's only a matter of time before the next one dies."

"I understand," the man said. "I will be there as soon as I can."

He hung up his phone, before looking around at the frozen wasteland around him. Part of him would have liked to have remained alone for the rest of eternity, while another wanted company. But even when nations had come to him, he had avoided them.

The only time he had gone was when he had seen two nations that were truly struggling in the cold. He had gone to help them, and had managed to make friends.

Argentina and Chile.

Slowly, but surely, they had brought over more of their friends. And he felt touched, since most of the others couldn't tolerate the cold. Canada and Finland handled it the best, and Belarus to a degree, but most of the others came from places with a warm climate.

And he had learned all of the details from their pasts. Many of them had been harmed by other nations, to the point that they were no longer very stable. And he had felt sympathy for them, and had grown angry by all the things that others had done to them.

He had learned of their intentions to take control of the world, and he supported them wholeheartedly. And thus, he had become a part of them.

They had mostly refrained from taking his land, except for Argentina and Chile, who had some researchers there. Peru had also reserved the right to some of his land. He didn't mind too much, since he had a connection to his friends.

And now his friends needed his help. They were dealing with an enemy – a non-nation – that made things increasingly difficult for them. He had been asked if he could deal with him, and he had agreed.

After all, what was a Russian winter compared to the cold of Antarctica?

Andorra, Basque, Catalonia, Picardy and Madeira were all in Andorra's living room. They were waiting for other minor personifications, but they were disturbed. They had sent messages to many, but few had replied. But one or two of the Pierres had informed Picardy that the ones they had sent the message to were already dead by the time the birds got there.

Madeira especially had been distraught when she heard that Azores had been captured.

They were still waiting for Isle of Man, Cornwall and Gibraltar. They had all informed them that they were coming. They were just having trouble getting transportation.

And asides from those three, someone else that had said they were coming was…

They all jumped when someone knocked on the door. Andorra swallowed nervously before he went to answer it.

Standing on the other side was Tokyo, who they had been expecting, and with him was someone that had a resemblance to France, only very sickly. Actually, Andorra thought that a corpse would look healthier than this young man.

"Konnichiwa, Andorra-san," Tokyo said, bowing respectfully. "I hope it's not a bother. I saw this young man, wandering around. He feels like one of us."

Andorra examined the stranger closely. His presence was weaker than a nation, but was the same as a region. Was he one of France's?

No. France wouldn't let anyone in his family turn out like that. Perhaps Picardy would know who this young man was.

The stranger certainly made no move to speak, so Andorra would assume that he wasn't capable of speech. He sighed.

"Come in," Andorra said.

Tokyo nodded, and he and the stranger filed in. The stranger didn't say a word and kept his head lowered the entire time.

Everyone else in the living room immediately focused on the new arrivals, particularly the silent stranger.

"Picardy, do you know him?" Andorra asked.

"No," Picardy said, examining the stranger. He seemed to have come to a similar conclusion as Andorra, for the next words he spoke were French. "Qui êtes-vous?"

The stranger seemed as though he had suddenly been shaken out of a trance, for his body literally shook, and he looked up at Picardy with an odd expression.

"Q-Que-b-bec," the man said, before he dissolved into a coughing fit.

Andorra kept his eyes on Basque and Catalonia, and he could see that they had some idea who Quebec was.

Madeira had gone up to Quebec and was looking at him with concern.

"When was the last time you spoke?" Madeira asked gently.

Quebec stopped coughing, wheezing all the while. He shook his head, looking at her pleadingly.

"Don't you know?" she asked.

Once again, Quebec shook his head.

Madeira frowned, before looking him over. Her eyes widened when she saw how bony his fingers were, and when she looked further up she could see how bruised his wrists were. It didn't fail anyone's notice how he looked to be in pain at the slightest touch.

"When was the last time you ate?" Madeira asked.

Quebec flinched at the question, taking a shaky breath.

"Why don't you come with me?" she asked, looking towards Andorra for permission.

Andorra nodded his head, and Madeira led Quebec to the kitchen. Once they were gone, he rounded on Basque and Catalonia.

"You know who he is?" Andorra asked.

"I've heard of him," Basque said. "He's a Canadian province with a bit of a separatist atmosphere. It's the only French province of Canada."

"I think I've heard France mention him," Picardy said. "He said that Canada was worried about the Quebecois and that they wanted to break free from him."

"But… what happened to him?" Catalonia asked.

"I don't know," Tokyo said. "But… now that I know who he is, is it wise to trust him? After all, he is a province from an Amodi nation."

Catalonia looked towards the kitchen and frowned.

"I say we keep an eye on him," she said. "If he shows signs of working for them, we get rid of him."

Tokyo nodded his head, and none of the others noticed his mouth twitching in a small smile.

China sighed in relief when he and Singapore arrived at his home. Singapore was admiring the scenery, and she seemed impressed by how isolated it was.

"Until we can think of a good plan, we need to keep ourselves hidden," China said.

"I can understand that," Singapore said. "It's a smart move on your part."

"I just hope that we're able to survive this war."

"Yes. Unlike with other wars, a loss is guaranteed certain death."

"Not always. The African nations have only been conquered, though it is more for the Continent Conquest. Keeping them alive is more beneficial to them. But escape for them means certain death."

"What do you think they're doing with the ones they've captured?"

"I'm not sure," China sighed. "I just hope they remain unharmed."

"I guess we'll never know."

"Let's hope we never know."

Singapore nodded her head, and China led her to the house. They immediately ran into Taiwan, whose eyes widened when she saw Singapore.

"Hi," Singapore greeted. "You doing okay here?"

Taiwan beamed.

"Yeah," Taiwan said. "We've all been working on improving our fighting prowess. And we've been teaching a Westerner martial arts. It's actually really funny."

Singapore frowned in confusion.

"Netherlands," China said. "Don't ask. I'll be in the kitchen."

When China left Singapore turned to Taiwan, who was giggling.

"China and Netherlands are love rivals," Taiwan explained. "Both of them like Portugal. It was France's idea to have Netherlands stay with us."

Singapore chuckled.

"Looks like France had a twisted sense of humour," she said.

"Yeah," Taiwan said, before growing sad. "France is dead."

"I know," Singapore said. "I managed to guess from the news report."

"It's just so unfair. Why do they have to kill everyone?"

"I think that a part of it is because they want to eliminate any threats."

"They also seem to have a grudge. North Korea has stated that he hates Japan and China, and wants to see them burn to the ground."

"They're taking it very slow, then."

"Yeah. And that's what makes them so scary."

Philippines huffed, looking at Malaysia. The other was extremely pale and breathing heavily, every now and then coughing some blood. Most of his population had died, and it was time to finish him off.

She was getting bored, anyway.

She cocked her gun, and Malaysia looked at her with a broken expression. She smirked when she saw his face.

"Paálam," she said, before pulling the trigger.

Laos, Tibet and Hong Kong all turned to the door when it was opened. They swallowed nervously when they saw Italy, who had a cold expression in his eyes. He turned to Laos, who was still resting on the bed.

"Had a nice nap?" he asked. "Any dreams you'd like to share?"

Laos's eyes widened. Italy knew that he'd had a prophetic dream.

"W-what are you talking about?" Laos asked nervously.

Italy walked closer, and at the last minute grabbed Hong Kong, before holding a knife to his throat.

"Don't play stupid," Italy said. "You had a dream, didn't you?"

"Y-yes," Laos said.

"Care to share?"

Laos swallowed nervously.

"A spider web of red silk," Laos said. "One of the threads broke, followed by fire, and rivers of blood. There was also a shattered mirror and a blizzard."

"Any interpretations?" Italy asked, a cold smile on his face.

Laos shook his head.

"Let me give you a few," Italy said. "One of our members died. One connected with the red ribbon. His lover is pissed, and will send the one responsible most likely to a fiery doom. And the rivers of blood imply that many will die. How's that?"

Laos swallowed nervously before averting his eyes.

"The blizzard could either refer to General Winter or Antarctica," Italy said. "But what of the mirror?"

"I-I don't know," Laos said.

"Hmm," Italy hummed in thought. "Tell me, is there something specific that triggers these dreams?"

"I-information."

"What do you need?"

"W-what's going on in the world. And… everyone involved."

Italy's face twisted into one of thought, before throwing Hong Kong towards Tibet, who was waiting for him.

"You are to inform us immediately when you receive another such vision," Italy said. "Failure to do so…"

He glanced towards Tibet and Hong Kong, and the message became clear. Laos frantically nodded his head.

Italy smirked, before leaving the three of them alone. There was a collective sigh of relief.

"So, someone in their group has died," Tibet said.

"And now someone's going to suffer the consequence," Hong Kong said.

"Poor fool," Laos said.

America woke up after they had landed in Bahrain. Once again, Michoacán was the only one to stay with him.

"Are you okay?" Michoacán asked.

"Not really," America said. "It really hurts, you know?"

She nodded her head in understanding.

"We managed to get Qatar to join," she said. "And the others are going to get Bahrain now."

"Oh. Good," he said.

"America… Qatar says that he believes Israel to be a member of Amodi."

America frowned.

"I don't see why, though," he said. "I mean… isn't Egypt a member? They don't have the best of relationships, even before they're supposed to have started all of their planning."

"Remember, they were all acting," she pointed out. "But… if he's a member, then he's a new member. Black didn't mention him as one of the nations from the beginning, right?"

America frowned thoughtfully.

"No, he didn't," he said. "And… when we captured North Korea, he managed to figure out the colours on the map. He said that there weren't enough yellow or red. But he didn't want to reveal the red points."

"Which means that they had other nations among their numbers," Michoacán said. "Spies. Or potential spies."

"Or nations that they didn't want us to know are with them. Nations that we might have called for help, or…"

"Yeah. But we have no way to tell for sure with Israel. Unless…"

"Unless we go there ourselves," America finished, a spark in his eyes.

Madeira watched Quebec intently. She had given him a piece of toast and a glass of water, but he was basically nibbling and sipping. They weren't the actions of someone starving. But… they weren't the actions of someone not starving. Or parched, for that matter. It was almost as though he was afraid of getting something in his stomach.

Madeira looked up when Catalonia entered the kitchen, and the other female looked at Quebec intently.

"You don't mind answering a few questions, do you?" Catalonia asked.

Quebec looked over towards her but didn't answer. It was hard to read his emotions.

"Don't be shy with the food," Catalonia said. "Eat up."

He looked back at the piece of toast, and as she had encouraged, he took a proper bite.

"What happened to you?" Catalonia asked.

Quebec swallowed, with some difficulty, and placed his hand on the table. He started tapping a finger, and they realised that it was Morse code.

Canada kept me locked up. I wasn't supposed to be born, but he figured I could prove useful. Or, my people could. A nation with internal conflict is less suspicious than a nation with nothing wrong.

"True," Madeira said.

Quebec suddenly shuddered, and they saw him rushing to the sink. They watched with wide eyes as he vomited the little food he had. They especially panicked a little when they saw the blood accompanying the bile.

"H-how long have you gone without food?" Madeira asked.

Quebec shook his head, before he started tapping something.

Time became meaningless. But I haven't eaten once since I was his prisoner.

"I know you don't know how long you've been a prisoner," Catalonia said, "but, do you know when you became a prisoner?"

Quebec looked thoughtful, before he started tapping again.

1963.

Quebec's been a prisoner since the October Crisis, which is around the time the personification was born (at least that's how I decide to interpret it). Poor guy's spent his whole life in captivity.

And I realised that I mistakenly referred to Catalonia as Cambodia in a previous chapter. It's been corrected, and eventually the real Cambodia will show up.

And yes, the one character that would be stronger against General Winter than even Russia is Antarctica, who's been hinted at a few chapters ago.

Tokyo is basically using Quebec as a means to hide his own status as a member of Amodi. Quebec can't even speak to defend himself, and Morse code is the least painful way for him to communicate, but still painful. And even a single bite of bread is too much of a shock for his stomach, which hasn't seen food in decades, except for on the plane which he upchucked as well.

I've also been mulling over this piece of trivia the entire weekend: South Africa has the Uniondale Ghost, which is our version of Resurrection Mary. The ghost is believed to be that of Marie Charlotte Roux, with Marie being the French and Afrikaans equivalents of Mary (though pronunciation differs). If you're interested, there's a movie called Die Spook van Uniondale, and you can see the trailer on YouTube.