March 19, 2029
New Delhi, India
"You have got to be kidding me."
England groaned, placing his head in his hands. On the screen in front of him, the redhead girl—Colorado, he reminded himself—and her brother, that Utah boy, shared a look. Utah was sending a "mind your manners" sort of look at his sister, while Colorado was either refusing to pay attention or just not noticing the visual scolding she was being sent. Hong Kong sat off to the side and half out of sight, silent, though he was giving off a satisfied look, noticeable by the way his lips barely curved upwards.
"Hey, my plan worked, didn't it?" Colorado waved off her brother nonchalantly. "You need to relax a bit, bro. You did great!"
"Great? It was a miracle they even listened to me at all!" Utah shot back, running his hands through his hair. The poor boy looked like he was going to go gray with stress. England could relate to that.
"Just let me get this straight," England sighed, rubbing his temples with one hand. "You, Utah, and you sister, Colorado, deliberately went behind your father's back and travelled to Beijing without informing anyone and practically sending the American Government into shutdown. You then went to Hong Kong and got him to set up a meeting with China, Korea, and Japan. Then, you pretended to have been sent by NATO to persuade them to join the war against New Abyssinia."
"When you put it that way..." Colorado laughed awkwardly. Utah groaned.
"Look, we just need you to pretend that you actually sent us to Beijing," he explained tiredly. "We got the East Asians to agree to join the war, that should be enough to have you help us out a bit here."
"Why don't you just ask your father?" England shot back. "I'm sure he'd help you out."
"Not before killing us first," Colorado put in. "I'd prefer to postpone my death for as long as possible. Look, you pretend that we were acting on your orders, East Asia joins the war. Win-win!"
"I suppose you do have a point…" England sighed. "But honestly, Hong Kong. I thought I raised you better than this!"
"That's, like, what you think," the Chinese territory smirked, causing the former empire to roll his eyes. "I mean, Australia, America, and I were all, like, raised by you."
"Don't remind me."
"Your stop is coming up," The government-issued driver spoke up for the first time, beginning to slow down and pull away from the New Delhi traffic. "We'll be there in around a minute, sir."
"Thank you," England responded, before turning back to the three teenagers. "Fine, I'll help you. But I need to get going, so it'll be an hour or so until I can talk to China. I have a meeting with India in a couple minutes. Hopefully, he'll be joining the war soon as well."
"It's alright!" Colorado laughed, grinning and fistpumping the air. "Yes! I am a genius! My plan worked!"
"Thank you so much for your help, England," Utah put in, sending a warning look to his sister. "We really appreciate it."
"Thank me once we win this war," the Brit responded. "Have a good day—afternoon for you, I suppose."
"Time zones are funky, aren't they? Bye!" Colorado waved, grinning much like her father would. Not wanting to deal with this political fiasco any longer than necessary (did they have any idea of the existing tensions between India and China?), England clicked off his phone and the holographic screen portraying them vanished as he ended the video call. As he did so, the taxi driver pulled into the driveway of an expensive home, flashing his ID to a security drone and finally stopping by the front door.
"Thank you for the ride," the British nation tipped his driver and stepped out of the taxi, grabbing his suitcase from the trunk and walking up to the front door and knocking firmly.
A couple moments passed, then a "coming!" sounded from inside. A half a minute passed again before the door opened, revealing a flustered-looking India, in a semi-formal button-up shirt and slacks.
"Namaste[1], Arthur!" He bowed politely and moved to let him inside his home. England gladly stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and setting them next to the entrance[2]. "I trust you had a safe trip here?"
"Yes," England nodded politely. "You've been doing well, Rana?"
"Very," his former colony replied with a smile. "My economy has gone up five percent in the last year alone, actually. Have you heard?"
"No," England shook his head apologetically. "I've been quite busy with the war, as you can probably guess. I haven't had much time to catch up with the rest of the world's politics and events recently."
"I can imagine," India huffed as he became more serious, though his lips still quirked upwards slightly. "That is why you're here, after all. I suppose we can dispose of the pleasantries and get straight to the point. Come with me." He beckoned for England to follow him, and the former empire set down his suitcase by his shoes and followed his former colony into the dining room, where he had prepared a table and chairs. India took one and England the other, sitting across from each other.
"So, I know you want to get me to join the war," India began once they had sat. "But my government is quite split on the subject of joining. On one hand, New Abyssinia is a great threat to us if you and NATO cannot defeat him, but on the other, we'd be working with…" he scowled for a moment. "Pakistan. As you can hopefully understand, it's become quite the debate in my lands."
"Yes, I understand," England nodded. "But I am going to have to ask you to at least try to let go of the rivalry you have with your son for now. Even Eurasia and America are working together, and that's saying something."
"Pakistan is no longer my son," India reminded him politely but firmly, his eyes flashing with a well-concealed anger. "He has not been in my family for almost a century now. But I do understand where you are coming from. Eurasia and America working together was not something I expected to see happen so soon."
"Well, we can talk about the issue of Pakistan later," England changed the subject, not wanting to stay on the dangerous topic of India's familial affairs for longer than absolutely necessary. "What I've been meaning to ask is: what have you done with those dangerous minerals Nepal found five years ago? The ones you annexed her over?"
"Oh, Amisha and her minerals!" India blinked, as if just recalling the events that had taken place almost half a decade previous. "I stored them safely, in a place only my government employees and agencies can enter or tamper with."
"That's good to know," England nodded. "I hear you've made some progress in converting them into weapons, as well."
"So that's why you so desperately want me on your side," India chuckled suddenly, eyes flashing. "No offense taken, of course. If I were you, I'd be taking the same steps to make sure I controlled the mineral. And before you ask, no, I will not be releasing Amisha in these current conditions. She's caused a lot of trouble for me and I don't trust her to take care of herself yet."
Well, you haven't changed much, I see, England mused to himself, a flare of ironic amusement shooting through him. You may be friendly and polite, Rana, but you're still the troublesome colony I remember.
"I've made significant progress on the mineral, however," India continued. "Using it in bullets as ammunition, I can disintegrate vehicles and troops alike. Quite a breakthrough in the current style of warfare, if I do say so myself. If the UN will give me permission to use them against New Abyssinia, then I'll consider letting Nepal go."
England raised his eyebrows in slight surprise. "What happened to being on the same side as Pakistan?"
"Oh, I won't really be on his side," India shrugged with a smirk. "I'm sure my politicians would love a chance like this to rub our successes in his nose. They wouldn't be the only ones."
"If I decided to grant this request, what exactly would you do with the minerals after the war ended? If it was in our favor, of course."
"There isn't a lot of this mineral," India shrugged. "So I'm not sure that my supply would even last us all the way through the war. If there are leftovers once we are done, we can discuss ways of disposing of them properly."
"Then it's settled," England smiled, reaching out a hand. India took it, and they shook firmly. "You'll be joining the Third World War."
"So that's what they're calling it now," India muttered. "I suppose it is a World War, now that I think of it."
"Just be glad that New Abyssinia doesn't have nuclear technology," England responded. "Who know how catastrophic the war would be then."
"You're right about that, Arthur," India chuckled. "Would you like to stay for lunch? I would like to talk about the particulars of the war. I heard New Order Venezuela recently made landing in Mauritania."
"Yes, I would," England nodded. "Venezuela has been doing an amazing job in her part of the war recently, yes. No doubt she'll be accepted into NATO after all this is over."
"No doubt," India repeated with a chuckle, standing up. "Now, I'll go call Amisha over, and we can get ready for lunch."
May 17, 2030
Moscow, Eurasian Union
New Abyssinia—Safe: Mogadishu, Djibouti, Addis Ababa, Asmara; Sudan; South Sudan; Kenya In Danger: Beni Suef, Egypt; Sabha, Libya; Adrar, Libya Fallen: None
Allies—Safe: Washington DC, USA; London, England; Moscow, Eurasian Union; Rome, Italy; Morocco; Mauritania; Mecca and Medina, Saudi Arabia; Benghazi, American Libya; In Danger: Cairo, Egypt; Tripoli, Italian Libya; Sana'a, Yemen Fallen: None
"Ugh. I hate this place," America muttered. Germany murmured his assent, scowling at a Eurasian official passing them by on the way to the meeting room.
"Ja, I must agree," Germany responded, feeling uncomfortable as he walked. He wasn't used to being sent to the capital of Eurasia, considering it was borderline communist and all that. "Prussia flat-out refuses to come with me whenever I'm called to Moscow. Not that I could ever blame him."
"Yeah, I totally get it," America huffed, letting his breath hiss out in between his teeth. "Why did our leaders want us to talk to talk to him? His problem with being hacked or something?"
"You don't listen at all, do you?" Germany responded, running a hand through his slicked-back hair. "We're here to discuss ransomware attacks on his government servers and new battle strategies. I don't think it'll go well, though. I have a really bad feeling about this."
"Really?" America questioned, raising one eyebrow. "I mean, I know Russia. Man's one inch away from falling off the crazy cliff. But he won't try anything against NATO at a time like this. That'd be stupid. And Russia may be crazy, but he sure as hell isn't an idiot."
"It's not an attack against us I'm worried about."
America frowned, then shrugged it off. "What is the worst thing he could do? Send more troops to New Abyssinia? That'd be a good thing."
Germany didn't answer, giving up on trying to explain the unsettling feeling that had made its home in the pit of his stomach, instead opening the door to the meeting room they had been approaching. Inside was a waist-high table, a screen displaying a map of the world where the top usually would've been. There were several Eurasian officials there, and Germany caught sight of Russia fairly quickly. The pale blonde was talking animatedly to a woman is wavy light brown hair and skin. She seemed familiar. Germany frowned, trying to place where he had seen her before.
The face of the central Asian nation who had supported America in that world-changing World Meeting back in 2015 popped into his head unannounced, and Germany blinked in surprise. Tajikistan! That was her name! He hadn't seen or heard of her since she and her allies had united with Russia to form Eurasia back in 2016.
However, something didn't seem right. Despite the fact that it was actually rather chilly in the Moscow government building, beads of sweat were forming at the Asian woman's hairline, and she seemed to almost be pleading with Russia about something. America's old rival, Germany noted, was completely calm, though there were traces of the dark aura that formed when he was upset beginning to form.
Tajikistan seemed to notice them almost immediately once they entered the room. Her expression turned from worry to fear, and she rushed away from Russia, not even bothering to say any parting remarks, and hurried towards them.
"Tajikistan?" Germany asked in confusion as Russia made his way over to the two western nations. "Is Russia treating you badly? What's going on?"
"You have to leave," Tajikistan burst, brushing aside the question. "You need to get back to your countries and get ready for the backlash that's about to occur. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. We couldn't stop him. Even Belarus tried, but he didn't listen to any of us! I'm sorry, sorry, sorry…" she trailed off, placing her head in her hands in shame and despair.
America and Germany shared an alarmed look, and the world superpower frowned, immediately stepping past Tajikistan and towards Russia, who regarded him calmly, even with a hint of amusement. Germany took the distraught woman in his arms as he watched the two Cold War nations lock eyes, and felt a tingling of terror rip up his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
Any previous positive emotions (indeed, if there were any there in the first place), were suddenly sucked out of the room as the world's two biggest powers locked gazes with each other, both daring each other to make a move against them. America's usual boisterous and clueless persona had evaporated within seconds of hearing Tajikistan's words. As he watched the showdown (indeed, even the government officials had stopped their busywork, seeming to feel what exactly was going on), Germany found himself thrown back in time to the year 1962[3], when America never took off the cold and logical mask[4] he was wearing now in fear of being stabbed in the back.
He really hoped the Cold War wouldn't start up again after the war against New Abyssinia was over.
"Ivan." Oh, America was using Russia's human name. This was serious. "What exactly did you do?"
"Ah, you seem so worried, Alfred," Russia chuckled, though his dark aura appeared in full force. Everyone in the room (except America) flinched back from the sudden drop in temperature. "I'm about to end this war. Why don't you tell little Tajikistan that everything is going correctly, da?"
"What did you do, Ivan?" America hissed, eyes flaring up as they connected with Russia's violet orbs.
"I ended the war," came the reply.
"IVAN!" America's foot came down and smashed straight through the wrought-iron floor. Germany winced involuntarily. America had little to no patience, certainly, but when he went Cold War, it tended to express itself in… violent ways. "WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?"
"They were hurting me and my government, da?" Russia chuckled, though even he seemed slightly more serious than usual. Tajikistan's hands clenched the folds of Germany's uniform tightly and she let out a dry sob, muttering more and more apologies to the central European nation.
"Ivan." America crossed his arms and took his foot out of his self-made hole in the floor, planting them solidly on the ground.
"I nuked them. With a RS-28 Sarmat[5]. It should be landing on Addis Ababa in moments."
The temperature dropped a further fifteen degrees, and even America took a half-step back in shock. Nukes. Nukes. Russia had just brought nukes into the picture. Germany gritted his teeth. He remembered what Japan had looked like after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as did America. He wished that kind of pain on no one, not even someone like New Abyssinia.
"What?" America asked quietly, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. Electric blue met fiery violet, and it seemed to Germany that a fight was about to break out at any moment.
"I nuked them," Russia replied just as confidently. He glanced over to the map on the table, and Germany's eyes flickered over to it, noting a timer ticking down in the corner, along with a red dot trailing over what used to be Eritrea. "It will be landing in… two minutes and fourteen seconds."
"You just don't get what you've just done, do you?" America very nearly growled. He raised a hand and began ticking off fingers. "The Declaration of St. Petersburg, 1868. Hague Convention, 1907. Universal Declaration of Human Rights, 1948. Geneva Conventions, 1949. The Protocols additional to the Geneva Conventions, 1977. The Nuclear Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons, 1995. The NSAs, 2019[6]. How many am I forgetting, Germany?"
The central European nation blinked, surprised to be called out, then racked his brain to see if America had forgotten any of the agreements and treaties he had just listed. "None off the top of my head," he responded after a moment.
"That's seven treaties and international laws you've broken, Eurasia," America hissed, holding up the same amount of fingers. "Not to mention that we don't even know if New Abyssinia has nukes of his own! What in the world are you trying to pull here?!"
"I'm going to end this war, da?" Russia grinned as he and America stood off. "New Abyssinia has already been using biological warfare against us. Technically, he's already broke the rules."
Bang!
Tajikistan let out a cry as Russia was abruptly sent back a meter from the force of America's punch to his face. The Eurasian nation raised an eyebrow at the superpower, his hand fingering the red mark on his cheek. Several Eurasian officials rushed forwards, but Russia held up a hand to stop them, standing up and drawing himself into his full height.
"That tantrum you just threw could be seen as a declaration of war, Америка," he threatened. "And is that really what you want?"
America drew himself into his full height. Somehow, he seemed taller than a scant five minutes before. "Perhaps," he replied icily. "If we cannot trust you to make intellectual decisions, then I would be glad to finally put you six feet under."
"I would be glad to take you down with me, da? Just like people always thought it would go. You and I in a blaze of glory."
America spat on the floor. "You're sick, Ivan. You can't even begin to realize what's going to happen to you once this war is over."
"Really? Because it was your satellite system, after all," he gestured to the map. Germany's eyes widened as he recognized it's features from the maps he and the other allies had been using. America's eye twitched. "That allowed all of this to happen. No doubt New Abyssinia has found access to it as well, if his hacking ability is anything to go by. No doubt it's how he knew the perfect moment to strike Benghazi and kill your son!"
America lost any speck of self-control at that. He swung again at Russia with a mighty roar. The pale blond nation blocked it this time and retaliated with a hit of his own, which America simply took with a grunt and kneed the Russian in his midsection without missing a beat. He then wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled, but Russia recovered quickly and used his larger size to throw America onto the hard floor.
The world's two superpowers glared at each other in a mixture of pure hatred and anger. By then, Germany couldn't stand back any longer.
"STOP!" He roared, stepping in between the two nations and raising his hands placatingly. Everyone else in the room seemed to unfreeze, and several the Eurasian officials rushed towards their representative while Tajikistan moved to America, helping him off of the ground.
"Stop…" Germany repeated, this time softer. He had intervened in situations like this dozens of times before, in World and NATO meetings alike, but now, for the first time, his hands were shaking, just slightly, out of fear. These two nations held the power to destroy the world in their hands, and he couldn't just let them duke it out in the center of Moscow. "You are both acting rashly. Calm down."
"He nuked New Abyssinia." Something flashed in America's eyes, but it was gone before Germany could place it. "And insulted my son."
Germany frowned deeply, inwardly agreeing with his ally. America hadn't exactly taken the disappearance of his state well, and he was lashing out more as a result. However, he couldn't let those biased feelings manifest and prevent America from calming down. They were practically at Russia's mercy in their current position.
"He thinks he can control what I do, da?" Russia hummed. "It's better to sacrifice the enemy than our allies. I thought you of all people would know that, America."
"I'm sure you don't, considering your history[7]," America hissed. Russia stiffened, expression freezing, and Germany sent his ally a silencing look that hopefully conveyed his command to "shut the hell up" accurately.
"Сэр! В спутниковой системе есть неисправность[8]!" Everyone turned to see one of the Eurasian scientists rushing towards them. Germany frowned, having to take a moment to decipher his words (his Russian was a little rusty), then his eyes widened. "он говорит, что ядерное оружие направляется к атмосфере!"
"What?!" Tajikistan exclaimed in shock and surprise. She and America rushed towards the map, Russia and Germany right behind them, quarrel momentarily forgotten, though both America and Russia made sure to put at least two meters of space in between each other.
The four nations stopped their quarrel and looked at the digital map. Sure enough, the counter for the nuke's landing had long since hit zero, but the red dot over Addis Ababa had stilled. Germany's eyes flickered to the altitude readings in the corner to see what was going on.
"У нас нет контроля над ракетой!" Another scientist cried, getting off of the phone, most likely from the control room piloting the nuclear missile.
4,000 kilometers above ground level. 6,000 kilometers. Higher and higher the altitude readings went. Higher and higher…
Germany clenched his teeth. This wasn't an error of PXT 2020. It had worked perfectly since it had been opened to NATO's use. Something had happened, but who had the technology to redirect an entire nuclear rocket without detonating it, especially when the nation it was heading for had no idea it was coming? He racked his brain trying to remember something, anything, that would give a reason for this behavior.
Then he frowned, realizing something. Why isn't the nuke moving on the map? Sure, it's only two-dimensional, but it should be moving off to the side as it rockets upward and past the satellite. That means that the nuke…
12,000. 14,000.
They… they aimed it…
16,000. It's speed was growing faster and faster as it left the Earth's gravity behind.
At…
18,000.
"They've aimed it!" Germany cried. "They've redirected it at the satellite system! They're going to destroy PXT 2020!"
Tajikistan let out a cry as America began shouting at the Eurasian officials in Russian to do something, to stop the nuke from hitting one of his best inventions yet. Germany didn't move. It was already too late. PXT orbited at 20,200 kilometers above the Earth's surface. They only had seconds to act, and only the American command center half a world away in Florida and Georgia could move the satellite that had cost trillions of dollars to produce away in any reasonable amount of time.
Several seconds trickled by, and then the digital map on table sparkled, then fizzled out completely. An error code appeared in the right hand corner, and America put his head in his hands. Russia fidgeted, though it was impossible for Germany to deduce whether he was ashamed of what had just happened or not. A deafening silence came over the previously hectic room.
"We no speak Americano!"
Suddenly, a phone ringtone blared in the room, causing everyone to jump. The music was upbeat and happy, and Germany felt a twinge of morbid amusement at the sharp contrast of the music to the current atmosphere. America let out a sigh and pulled out his cellphone, putting it in private mode and up to his ear.
"What's up, Italy?" he asked tiredly. "Why can't you just call Germany? I am not having a good day."
Something was spoken rapidly on the other line, and America's eyes widened.
"Really?!" He exclaimed. "What does he want?" He paused for a moment. "Well, this was a bit of a bad time to call, but I'll get Tex and Mass to help me. Be over at your place in twelve hours tops." He clicked off the phone and stuffed it in his pocket, turning to Russia as he did so.
"You're lucky something just came up, Ivan," He hissed, jabbing a finger in the Eurasian's direction. "Or else I honestly would have declared war on you for that. I don't care that we're fighting the same enemy. You are extremely lucky."
"Oh, Alfred," Russia chuckled darkly. "We never were and never will be allies. You know that."
"Do I ever," America muttered under his breath, standing up. Louder, he added, "I expect you to pay me back for that little fiasco of yours. Germany, we're leaving. Something more important needs my attention."
And with that, the western superpower whipped out of the room, Germany given no choice but to follow.
[1]- An Indian form of greeting. It conveys respect and formality
[2]- In India, you usually take off your shoes when entering a home. It's polite and keeps the house clean.
[3]- 1962 is widely regarded to be the height of the Cold War, during which the Cuban missile crisis reached its peak as Russian officials placed nuclear missiles startlingly close to an American naval blockade
[4]- A headcanon of mine. My personal belief is that, contrary to what others think, the sociable and dorky side of America is his true self. He has two main masks, usually for protection and to serve as a weapon in times of crisis—his "Cold War" persona and the idiotic persona that's seen at times in the anime. Several other countries are aware of this 'protection' method of his (England, Canada, and Germany being among them), but don't do much about it, mostly because America's masks are useful.
[5]- A real nuke, capable of destroying entire cities several times over. For example, if this nuke actually landed in Addis Ababa, then around 4 million people would be killed instantly, with an estimated half a million more injuries, not considering the fallout. Everyone within a 50 km radius of the bombing site would experience third-degree burns at the least. The fallout radiation would then blow with wherever the wind went. If the wind blew northeast, for example, it would completely envelop Djibouti and parts of Eritrea and Yemen. (Source: Nukemap. Really recommended to see if what would happen if your own city was hit with a nuke.)
[6]- Various agreements and treaties restricting the use of nukes and unnecessary losses of human life. I'm too lazy to put them all up here after the long footnotes of 4 and 5, so look them up if you want to know what they are.
[7]- America is referring to the days of the Soviet Union, when Russia enacted 'Holodomor' on Ukraine, deliberately starving her people and killing an estimated 10 million citizens in the hopes of stopping a possible capitalist rebellion. Was Russia himself directly involved? It's up to you to make that call. This event took place in the years of 1932-33.
[8]- Translations:
"Sir! There is a malfunction in the satellite system! It's saying the nuke is heading towards the atmosphere!"
"We don't have control over the rocket!"
World News (March 29, 2029 to June 4, 2030):
1) Many nations in Africa are too afraid to take action against New Abyssinia because they are afraid that they'll be occupied easily since they're not stable
2) The Arab League's moral increased when many nations started sending troops towards North Africa and the Middle East
3) Eurasian Union was recently hacked by New Abyssinian hackers. Russia is displeased.
4) Pakistan is not pleased with India taking part in the war
5) New Order Venezuela makes landing in occupied Mauritania
6) Eurasian Union continues to be hacked by New Abyssinia. In response, he sends a nuke to New Abyssinia as they consider it a threat to the Russian Federation.
7) The Allies, including India and China, are outraged
8) A SUPER SOLDIER HAS REDIRECTED THE NUCLEAR MISSILE TOWARDS THE ATMOSPHERE