"What's wrong?" Veneciano asked.

China's body shook as if he had put his fingers into an electric socket. Then, he hugged himself and looked up to the ceiling.

"China?" Italy insisted.

"...I don't know..." China finally replied. Along with him, he kept studying his archives, digging into the records studying Old Egypt's treasures, trying to shake it off, but he was still feeling so cold and uneasy...

England felt his heart pounding inside of his chest watching the woman who had taken the place of Sealand. A woman of bewitching beauty but eyes which sent in the opposite direction.

Like everyone else in the room, he watched her as she continued to touch her hair, her hips, breasts, neck, waist, after having been deprived from a body for so long, until, having overcome the dryness of his throat, he finally spoke.

"You...Tul-La..."

"In the flesh." She smiled with delight. "Thanks to you, I must say. Sealand was so desperate to get your attention he was willing to do anything, anything at all..."

"What did you do to him?!" England raised his voice, though it still faltered because of the shock. "What did you do to my brother?!"

"Oh. Now you care about him? Sealand told me how selfish and hypocrite you were but now I can see it with my own eyes."

"Bring him back!" England forgot the horror stories China had told him about that nation. At that moment, it didn't matter who she was. Until a second later, that had been Sealand. That was all that mattered.

"I'm afraid he's gone, sweetheart. He gave me full control, so I took it. His body is mine to shape at my convenience and his soul feeds me."

"You're lying!" England roared.

No! He refused to believe she had wiped him out of existence! Sealand was still there, somewhere, and he would make her bring him back!

He attempted to punch her, and Tul-La grabbed his hand and twisted it, making him let out a howl and drop on his knees. The prince of Sealand took a step towards him, but it was a mere reflex movement, because he was still in shock and didn't have the courage to make a sound in front of that enchantress.

"You are in no position of demanding anything." Tul-La's eyes shone. "I heard about you 'Great' Britain. Not so great now. Once an empire, lost everything. Had you been honorable, you would have fought till death for it..."

Her grip softened a bit as she tilted her head.

"Still...You might be useful..."

Tul-La looked around her, at the stupefied and scared audience.

"I can be merciful to all of you. Submit to me, recognize me as your one and only mistress, and you'll have nothing to fear."

"Don't listen to her!" England shouted.

There was a lot of doubt. Countries looked at each other. Many were still trying to understand or assimilate what was happening, as if it wasn't dumbfounding enough finding themselves enslaved by Sealand.

Czechia was the first to take a step forward.

"You win." She said.

"Czechia! What do you think you are doing?!" Hungary exclaimed.

"Are you joking? Didn't you just see?" Czechia frowned, making it evident that it was what logic and not feelings dictated her to do.

"Come on, even if she's a witch we are many, and she's just one!" Hungary shouted, not only addressing Czech Republic, but everyone around. "She's only going to make us her slaves if we let her!"

There was lots of hesitation, but some overcame it soon, guessing Hungary was right. They had let her take control of their territory, using that child as a puppet, but the had had enough! A group formed by Hungary herself, Poland, Belarus, Denmark, Albania, Spain, Armenia and Slovenia pounced on Tul-La.

The fight did not last long. Not even a decent amount of time. Those who tried to grab her were pushed to the ground, some hitting the walls. Albania got elbowed in the nose and started bleeding profusely. Tul-La dislocated Poland's shoulder. Hungary was grabbed by the neck.

She was not upset at this uproar. It was predictable. And, on the bright side, it was a perfect chance to show all of them what happened to those who opposed her.

Without a comment, or even looking the least annoyed, Tu-La punched through Hungary's chest.

Tul-La removed the hand from Hungary's torso and took something out of it. England, being so close to him, could see it seemed like a ball of three different layers of color, red, white and green. Did she...take it out of Hungary's chest? What was that? He looked at Hungary and saw she had gone very pale and her eyes were open wide. She stood like a puppet whose strings had been cut off. She stumbled towards Tul-La, her arm a bit extended, like trying to grab what she had taken from her, then fell flat on the floor. When she did, her body exploded into dust.

Now the room did burst into screams. Austria did something not common in him: scream, calling Hungary's name. Sealand's prince drew back, hiding behind England, who was glued to the spot. He just could watch as Tul-La contemplated the small orb of color in her hand before opening her mouth wide and swallowing it. Whatever that was, it made her skin crawl with some kind of twisted and overwhelming pleasure. When she opened her eyes, they looked red, instead of hazel. She took her time to talk again.

"This is my promise to those who deny me."

There were exchanged looks, horrified silences, mutters, but some made a decision soon. Malta was one of the first to get on her knees. Bulgaria followed, then Denmark, Ukraine, Estonia, Portugal, Ireland...Seeing more and more neighbors submitting made up many nations' minds. Luxembourg had to force Austria to surrender, since he was still staring at Hungary's ashes.

"May God help us..." Ireland muttered, making the sign of the cross.

Tul-La looked around her, licking her lips with great satisfaction.

"Good, good...You are a bunch of pathetic weaklings, but I will need troops to expand to Africa and Asia..."

She stopped on her track, noticing there was someone who dared to look at her to the eye. A young man with ginger hair and a curl which caressed his collar, dressed with a very austere dark tunic.

"Are you blind or deaf by chance?" Tul-La asked, approaching him. She thought she remembered who that small nation was. Vatican City.

"I only kneel before God." Vatican calmly replied, still not flinching.

"I am a goddess." Tul-La frowned slightly, both amused and offended by his audacity.

"You are nothing but a she-devil who will meet judgement soon."

"Mr. England!" Whispering, Sealand's prince looked at him with horror. "D-Do something!"

England opened his mouth but no sound came out of it.

What on earth could he do? He wasn't very sure of what Tul-La had done to Hungary but it was something monstrous, something he had only read in books, comforted by the idea that those were only ugly legends...

"Yes! And something you will do!" England found himself being dragged by someone, taking advantage of Tul-La's distraction.

England saw who it was and was honestly surprised.

"S-Scotland?"

His brother forced him to shut up and follow him. They were also followed by the prince.

"Judgement? They judged me once and here I am. There is no authority above me. You'd do well abjuring from your god and worshiping me." She got close, too close to Vatican. But he remained serene, while everyone else around him felt anguished. He never stopped looking at her to the eye.

"Then He will also say to those on His left, 'Depart from Me, accursed ones, into the eternal fire which has been prepared for the devil and his angels..." Vatican recited out loud, and that was the last thing he did.

England turned his head but couldn't see what was going on. Still, he could imagine, and the thought made him cringe.

"Where is my wife?" Sealand's prince asked. "I'm going nowhere without...!"

"Come on, there's no time to lose! Go! Go!" Scotland pushed him.

"But Scotland..." England stopped to gaze at his brother.

"Shut up. I am not doing this for you. Don't get the wrong idea. You started this mess, you're going to solve it!" Scotland harshly said. "Now go, before she catches you! Come on! Are you dumb or what? What are you waiting for? Enough people have died because of you!"

He was probably right, the prince realized before England did. He grabbed the nation's wrist and forced him to follow him to the boats, while Scotland covered their escape.

"This is madness! A witch! And she's taking over the world! Oh, sweet Jesus, Jiminy Cricket and all saints from A to Z! We have to warn all of the Africans and Asia! They have to be prepared! Get their own wizards, I heard they had plenty of those...But will that work with her? Oh, and I left my wife there...If she hurts her...I will never forgive myself!" The prince wouldn't stop talking, he was making England nervous, but he couldn't even tell him to shut his mouth. His words made him think of all the people he had left behind, ex-colonies, family, friends...All of them at that witch's mercy, for her to extermine...What did she do to Hungary? What was she doing to Vatican? Nothing good, that was for sure. But practically all of his mind was occupied by Sealand. What happened to his body. His last words.

«I just wanted my big brother.»

England buried his face in his hands.

Scotland watched them as they sailed away, as fast as the boat engine allowed them. Sure it wouldn't stop that woman, but...

His heart skipped a beat and felt as if they had poured freezing water in his back. He didn't need to turn around to know Tul-La was behind him.

"How cute of you to think you accomplished something letting him go." He could even hear her smile. "I don't mind that he is gone. In fact, you made things easier for me, sending him to get the one I want to see. Did you really think he would be free? He's already under my control."

Scotland breathed deeply.

"Sit on this, lassie." He harshly said, showing her the middle finger without turning around.

She was probably right. Probably he didn't change a thing and sacrificed himself for nothing. So why did he do that for? Well...There was no honor in surrendering just like that. It was not in his character.

Scotland didn't have much time to think about it. He felt a blow which made him wobble, then cold, as cold as if winter had suddenly come in all of its crudeness; his head span just one second before he stopped feeling, seeing, hearing, and emptiness swallowed him.

Note: Vatican's description was done thinking of Mychron's design on DeviantArt