Thanks to AquaEclipse for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 72

France looked over the two groups. So, Portugal had sent Romania, Finland and Poland. He was surprised to see Romania there, considering the close relationship he and Portugal had. He would have thought that Portugal would want to keep his lover safe. That was what France would have done.

Figuring that the Alvoran nations were of the least concern, he turned his attention to the nine Requiem nations. Why would they bring so many of them?

Italy and Romano were there, and it scared him a bit to see that the leaders were there. Accompanying them were Jamaica, Denmark, Hungary, Bulgaria, Chile, Venezuela and Philippines. At least three of those nations had a personal grudge against Spain.

"Looks like the rest of our enemies finally decided to come closer," Italy said, smirking. "Took you long enough. Did you enjoy the touching moment too?"

Romania's eyes narrowed, before he eyed the Requiem nations.

"…I see you've been using Bhutan," he said. "Otherwise, why bring so many? Unless, of course, you were worried that you'd lose."

France could sense China and Thailand tense at the mention of Bhutan. He was also curious about it, but he felt that it wasn't his place to ask.

"What have you done to Bhutan?!" China demanded. "And Tibet too?"

"Why should we tell you?" Philippines demanded. "That's not your business."

"If I feel it when someone is tortured, then it is my business!"

"So, you could feel it," Italy remarked. "Taiwan was right, then."

France chanced a look at China at that moment. His anger had mostly faded away, to be replaced by fear. Italy seemed to notice this too, for he chuckled.

"When we call, our Sleepers feel compelled to answer," Italy explained. "They also feel compelled to be alone, and that's before we say their trigger phrase. They remember nothing about the calls, of course, and are a great source of information."

China clenched his fists, and France could even see them trembling. His thoughts then wandered over to Andorra, and he wondered if he also received calls like that. And what the results would have been on his mind.

France was tempted to ask Romania about Andorra, but there was a time and place, and it was neither. They couldn't afford distractions. At any moment, the inevitable conflict would begin.

"How can you do it?" Thailand whispered. "How can you live with the things you've done?"

There was a bark of laughter from several of the Requiem nations, and the sound made France's heart shift from pumping blood to pumping ice.

"You're honestly asking us that?!" Romano barked. "We're nations! How many of you can honestly say that your hands are clean?"

"That's right," Philippines said. "Or does 'Thammasat' mean nothing to you? On that note, what about 'Tiananmen', China?"

France glanced towards the two Asians, who looked as though they'd taken a dip in a pool of chalk with how pale they'd gotten.

"We know that the two of you were personally involved with those massacres," Italy said. "And France, don't think I've forgotten Aigues-Mortes. Your only saving grace is that you weren't personally involved with that one."

"But you were with the June Days Uprising," Romano said. "And as for Spain, can you honestly tell me that you can live with yourself after the Inquisition? Tell me, has Portugal told you about his lack of religion yet?"

"How did you know about that?!" Romania demanded, and France could see that he looked worried now.

"Sao Tomé and Príncipe aren't the only ones that know a thing or two about body language. I remember Portugal and Spain visiting each other several times during my time under Spain." Romano spat the words out as though they left a bad taste in his mouth. "I remember how Portugal would look uncomfortable whenever the subject of religion came up, and especially with the punishments. I also paid close attention to which particular types made him nervous. Blasphemers and heretics in particular, and once people started understanding the concept of atheism, his reactions were a lot less subtle, at least to me. Trust me, I know what it's like to have to keep your true devotion secret."

"Roman pagans," Finland said. "That's what you are, aren't you? If Rome had such a huge influence…"

"Correct," Italy said. "Nonno was right when he called Christianity a dangerous cult. But the emperor insisted. At least we understand that our gods can fight their own battles. It's not the place of humans to take revenge in the name of the gods."

"Something that the Abrahamic religions can't seem to comprehend," Romano scoffed.

"And, like, where does Vatican fit into all of this?" Poland asked. "Like, isn't he your brother? And the capital of the very religion you seem to hate?"

France felt a chill once Poland said it, and he glanced in the direction of the Eastern European. His gaze was fixed on Italy, while Finland, who was standing right next to Poland, was scanning the area, as though looking for something. Knowing Finland's proficiency as a sniper, France figured scanning the area was second nature to him, but he looked as though he was looking for something – or someone – in particular.

"While it was true that he was born from that very cult," Romano said, "we managed to make him see things our way."

"Let me guess," Romania sneered, "you took him to your Washroom."

France felt a jolt when he heard that word.

"First, the Washroom wasn't constructed yet," Romano said. "Second, all we had to do was point out the contradictions between what they say and what they do. For a religion of love, there's sure a lot of hatred."

France winced when he heard that. It reminded him of a similar conversation he'd had with Voltaire once upon a time. How the philosopher couldn't imagine how a god that conveyed a message of love would allow all this hatred in his name.

Before anyone else could say anything, Spain grunted in pain. France's attention immediately went to Spain, and he heard Romano chuckle.

"It seems that Belarus finally managed to complete the circle," Romano remarked.

France felt his heart pump ice again when he realised that the nine nations in front of them weren't the only Requiem nations. That would explain Finland's behaviour. He was searching for the others.

"What did you do?!" Romania demanded.

"A simple containment circle," Hungary said. "This prevents any of us from leaving this area for the next hour. Plenty of time to kill a few of you. And there's no way you're going to escape us this time."

France heard a whimper, and he turned back to Spain. He focused on the small girl in his arms, who was watching the Italian brothers with wide, fearful eyes. And France was reminded of the fact that this girl had seen Requiem's cruelty through the memories of her predecessor. To be in the presence of the ones responsible for her birth through the suffering of another…

France could understand that she would be scared.

His attention was drawn to Ukraine when she gasped, and he followed his line of sight to see that she was looking at Belarus, who was casually walking up to them after apparently finishing what she had set out to do. But she wasn't alone.

She was flanked by Greece and New Zealand, and France felt a particular jolt when he saw Greece. He'd known the other European for centuries, but his face didn't look like the Greece he knew. He looked alert, for one thing, and there was a particular gleam in his eye that France didn't like.

Then there was the fact that this entire conversation was to keep them busy while they made sure that they couldn't escape their current situation. And now…

Now the odds were unfavourable again: twelve against eight.

Oman was on his way to one of the hotel rooms. He hadn't booked in, because he didn't intend to stay long. However, there was someone that he felt he should go see.

He checked to make sure that he had the correct number, before knocking on the door. He only had to wait a short while before it opened, revealing Afghanistan on the other side. She blinked in surprise when she saw him, before cocking her head to the side.

"Oman?" she asked. "This is a surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Are you alone?" he asked. "There's something I want to discuss with you."

He could see the hesitation in her eyes, which he didn't blame her for. She nodded her head, allowing him to enter. But he also noticed that, once she closed the door, she made sure to be a safe distance away, with her weapon in arm's reach.

"So, what is it?" she demanded.

He took a deep breath, knowing that she wouldn't be too impressed.

"Alvora could use your help," he admitted.

There was a long moment of silence. She shifted her stance, narrowing her eyes.

"So, you're with that group," she remarked. "How long?"

"A few days," he admitted.

"And how did they win you over? Threats of invasion? Blackmail?"

He shook his head.

"The truth is, they confided in me a long time ago," he said. "They wanted to recruit me, but I wasn't interested back then. I was sworn to secrecy, but I was allowed to know what they were doing. And when they told me about Requiem, they asked me if I wanted to join them again. It's better to be allied with them than to be vulnerable against Requiem."

"And how do you know they can be trusted?" she asked.

"Because they kept their promise to me."

"And what promise was that?"

"An end to Yemen's civil war."

She was silent for a moment as she processed his words.

"Does Yemen know about this?" she asked at last.

"I convinced him to join with me," he said. "He's a lot more relaxed than before."

"And he's alright with signing his freedom away?"

"You don't get it. We joined. We're members. They help us, we help them, but they won't ask us to do something that we don't want to do."

"And what about those under their control?"

"You've heard the official reports…"

"I want to know what they do to the nations! Not what's happening in their countries."

Oman was quiet as he processed the request.

"Jordan and Lebanon are protectorates," he said. "They're not active members, but the contract is signed. They have a right to refuse if we want something, but we'll be sure to protect them, and they've consented to allow us to change things in their countries."

"And will they be able to tell me anything?" Afghanistan asked. "I thought they were sworn to secrecy. Unable to break it."

"I've actually consulted Portugal about this. They can tell you what you want to know, as long as a member of Alvora gives their approval. But I would do this quickly, if I were you. They're on their way to the safe haven in South Africa."

She looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Why specifically South Africa?" she asked.

"Because they complained about Canada's cold," Oman simply explained.

"…Are those the only safehouses you have?"

"Romania also has one. We're kind of focused on safety in numbers."

"Apparently…"

He pursed his lips together, before he sighed.

"I'm going to tell you something that not even Saudi or Turkey know about," he said. "A few days ago, Requiem captured Tunisia. They took him to the base they use for indoctrination, the Washroom, as they call it. But they didn't take him to brainwash him. They used him as a test for the nations they were brainwashing. I don't know the exact details, but he was attacked by Nigeria and… and cannibalised by Algeria."

Afghanistan reeled back, her face growing horrified.

"W-what?" she whispered.

"Alvora managed to rescue him, but he's still pretty shaken," Oman said. "That's why we're focusing on safety in numbers. This isn't like anything we've seen before. Alvora is prepared for a war with Requiem. And they can teach you how to fight on that level."

She was silent as she seemed to ponder it. Eventually she looked to the ceiling, as though seeking strength, before she turned her attention to Oman again.

"If I agree to this," she said, "what's in it for me?"

"The end of the Taliban," Oman said.

She barked a laugh.

"Too bad things like that don't happen overnight," she said. "And we've seen what happens when other nations interfere."

"Africa is going smoothly," Oman pointed out. "And Yemen too. We'll also see if there's a way to help Pakistan."

She was silent for a moment.

"I think I'll hear what Jordan and Lebanon have to say about it," she said.

"That's fair," Oman sighed.

Ukraine was on the defensive. What did she expect? Her opponent was Belarus, and she didn't know what caused her sister to look so angry with her.

"Natalia, can't we please talk?" she asked desperately.

"And what do you want to talk about?" Belarus scoffed as she brought her sword down.

Ukraine winced as she blocked the strike with her pitchfork. It wasn't a fair match, but at least she had something that could be considered a weapon under normal circumstances.

China was currently using his wok as a shield. Against Greece. It wasn't going well.

"Why are you so angry?" Ukraine asked desperately.

Belarus sneered.

"Let me guess, you think this has something to do with you," she said. "Well… You're not entirely wrong. But I'm disappointed that Ivan isn't the one to come here."

"I don't understand," Ukraine said. "You adored him."

"Well, at least I know my acting skills are on point. No, foolish sister. Obsession can go both ways. I hate him. And as for you… You're a passive coward. You had the power to call him back. You could have stopped a lot of the things he's done. But you didn't. You're guilty by being passive."

Ukraine's eyes widened. Was that really what Belarus thought? And… What did she mean when she said that she had the power to stop all of what Russia's done? Did she mean during the soviet era? But that didn't make sense either.

Belarus shifted her sword sideways, and the deadlock was broken. Belarus recovered faster, and lunged at Ukraine again. Ukraine barely had the time to block, and she cried out in pain when Belarus's sword nicked her side.

Prussia looked up when Botswana left from Brunei's body. He was still the only one that could see the African nation, asides from the gods, but the others were well aware of what was going on, so they wouldn't be too surprised if he started talking with Botswana.

And it looked as though the newest member of the group had a lot on his mind.

"What's up?" Prussia asked.

This was the first time that he saw Botswana looking annoyed. Considering Botswana tended to be calm and level-headed most of the time, as well as patient, it was saying something that he was annoyed.

"You neglected to tell me that Brunei didn't have that hypnotic suggestion," Botswana gritted out. "Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to get him out of that? How close he was to being lost?"

A chill raced down Prussia's spine when Botswana reminded him that Brunei was also a recent recruit, and therefore wouldn't have had the precautions that the rest of them had.

"Shit, I forgot about that," he said. "But, you managed to get him out safely?"

Botswana nodded his head, before glancing towards Brunei. The latter was clutching his head, groaning as though in pain.

"His situation can be summed up simply as a crisis of faith," Botswana explained. "I think you better go talk to him. Oh, and might I suggest getting some body paint? Grey would be ideal."

Prussia was a bit confused about the body paint comment, but before he could ask, Botswana disappeared. Brunei was the last of the group to awaken.

"What's wrong?" Lithuania asked. "Did something happen?"

"We forgot that Brunei is new too," Prussia said.

Lithuania widened his eyes, before he turned his attention to the aforementioned nation.

"Should we check to make sure he's alright?" Lithuania asked.

"I'm going to do that now," Prussia said, rising to his feet. "At least I know what's going on with him."

He painfully walked towards Brunei, before sitting down next to him.

"Sammy tells me you're dealing with a crisis of faith," Prussia said.

Brunei jumped at his voice, turning to him in surprise. It took a moment for him to process what was being said, and when he did, he nodded his head.

"You could say that," he said.

"What exactly is the problem?" Prussia asked.

Brunei didn't immediately answer, instead looking around. Prussia realised that his attention was focused on the Hindu gods helping them out.

"Ah, I see," Prussia said. "I've been in your shoes once before. A religious order, remember? Finding out that the gods of the people I was attacking were real… And then finding out that I've been doing a lot more damage than good. I was supposed to be following a god of love and mercy… but those were two things I didn't show. When I realised that the nations travelling with me were afraid of me… I guess you could say that it was the moment I turned my life around."

Brunei was listening intently, and once Prussia was finished, he averted his gaze.

"And how do you think I should deal with it?" he asked.

"Accept that you were wrong, and move on," Prussia said. "Just because your worldview changed doesn't mean the world's ending. Live and learn, after all. Nothing stays the same forever."

"But…"

"Listen, this just means that there isn't one god. I'm not telling you to give up your religion or anything. But if I could make a suggestion, I'd say that you need to keep in mind that other people are right too. And there's no need to fight about it."

Technically speaking, Portugal and several other nations from Requiem and Alvora are alatrists: they acknowledge the existence of gods, but they do not worship them. And there are some cases where the nations are misotheists, at least regarding other gods: they acknowledge them, but hate them. This is especially true for Requiem.

I currently work as an editor for a company creating resources for schools. Last week, I've been editing Creative Arts, which has a topic on body art. What Botswana is referring to is that each colour is said to represent something different, with grey representing protection. So, he's basically telling Prussia that they would need to take extra measures to protect themselves.

Speaking of editing, whenever I go back to look for something, I see that I made a few errors. I think I'll go back and fix all of those, so if there's a delay, it's probably because of the extra editing.

And in other news, last night was the State of National Address (SONA). Just… If you want to see just how messed up South Africa is, go look at that. It's the very definition of mixed feelings. Part of me was amused, but other parts of me were embarrassed, worried, afraid… These are the people running the country! News24 has the entire thing on YouTube, but it's the first 54 minutes you need to look at. Let's just say, if there was an award for most patience, Speaker of Parliament deserves that award. Just… trust me. Grab your popcorn and watch.