There were birds chirping in the trees all around him- water flowing nearby, and a light breeze that cooled him down, even if just slightly. The scenery was beautiful, and would, on normal circumstances, be peaceful and relaxing. But Romano wasn't calm. He was anything but relaxed or at peace. And these weren't by any means normal circumstances. All around him, other personifications of countries were scattered in various places- or well, he assumed that they were other countries. A muscular man was slumped against a fallen tree, somebody with a blue and white scarf was lying in a bed of flowers, and a man with black hair was face-down in a mud puddle. Everybody was unconscious, except for him. Well, he only assumed and hoped that they were unconscious, rather than...

Beside him, there was movement. Lovino flinched and turned his head to face the source of the sound. There was somebody stirring beside him- a man with messy brown hair. He vaguely recognized him from somewhere. He felt familiar, somehow. The man's name was at the tip of his tongue.

Antonio Fernández Carriedo. Spain. He was glad that it was Spain, rather than somebody else, anybody else. He was grateful that it wasn't an animal, or god forbid whatever caused all of this to happen- whoever put them in this situation.

Ah, right, the situation. Romano didn't know exactly what had happened- there was a world meeting. He actually attended this one, mainly because somebody had bribed him with something. He didn't remember who or what, just that he rarely attended these meetings, and that whoever bribed him had brown hair. It wasn't Spain, though, this person- whoever they were had brown hair. Of course, out of all the meetings that he could have attended, it just had to be the one where something went horribly wrong.

There was a flash of light, shouting, and then everything went black. Weather whatever caused this was an accident, or somebody did this on purpose, Romano didn't know. But he could only assume that somebody did it on purpose. He vaguely recalled somebody laughing.

Beside him, the Spaniard sat up, opening his eyes, then immediately squeezing them shut, shielding them against the sun with his hand. Spain said something- Romano wasn't exactly sure what, the ringing in his ears was pretty much the only thing that he could hear, aside from the muffled sounds all around him.

It was only then that Lovino realized that he was bleeding- or at least, that's what he assumed the warm, sticky substance running down the side of his face was. He reached a hand up to his cheek, then looked at it. Definitely blood.

Five thousand years could have passed, or it may have only been a second. Romano neither knew, nor cared. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to breathe properly. He felt a hand grab onto his own, and looked over. Spain was holding onto his hand tightly, his face twisted into an expression that Lovino couldn't quite place. Quickly, he yanked his hand away. The touch was comforting, yes, but he didn't recall anything about the man beside him, other than the fact that he was Spain.

Hazel eyes met green ones, and they stared at each other for a fleeting moment, before Spain spoke, smiling sympathetically. "Romano, you're bleeding. Let me help you-" The stronger man pulled his bag off of his back, dug around it, then frowned. "Huh... That's weird... I usually keep Band-Aids and stuff like that in here..." He said, furrowing his eyebrows. Antonio looked around in the bag for a bit longer, then in his pockets. "A lot of stuff's missing... What's this...?" He pulled out a crisp white envelope.

Romano pursed his lips, then opened up his messenger bag, which he only just realized he had. Weird- he hadn't even taken it to the meeting with him. Everything about this was... Strange, to say the very least. Opening it up, he looked through it- there wasn't anything strange. Everything that he usually kept inside was there. Wait, no. He usually kept a minimal amount of medical supplies with him, since he was rather clumsy, and prone to falling. The candy he usually kept inside was gone, too. Oddly enough, there were even a few items added- spare clothes, and a strange envelope that resembled Antonio's.

Carefully taking the envelope out of his bag, Lovino pursed his lips. On the back of the paper, his name was written. He didn't recognize the handwriting, but it felt somewhat familiar to him. Before he could open it up, though, a piercing scream ripped through the air. He froze up, then shoved the envelope back into his bag, then jumped to his feet. Once he stood up, he got vertigo. Before he could even realize what was happening, everything was spinning around the Italian's field of vision, and he collapsed onto the ground, right onto Spain. Memories of jumping onto the man in the mornings flooded his head. That was... Strange. He had no recollection of any such events before now.

He tried and tried to get up again. Antonio was doing the same, but he was also struggling. Spain might have been talking. Romano might have been talking. The whole world could have been screaming, or everything could be still and silent. Lovino didn't know- the ringing in his ears was deafening, his head throbbed, and his entire body ached.

Eventually, Antonio was on his feet, standing up straight. Reaching down, he offered a hand to Lovino. cautiously, Romano took it and allowed the stronger man to pull him to his feet. Spain hugged the smaller male tightly until Romano's head finally stopped spinning, and he was able to stand up by himself. It all felt new but familiar. It felt like they had done something like this a million times before, but the experience was entirely unknown. It just made his head hurt all over again.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" Lovino snapped, slipping out of the other man's arms. Spain didn't look offended, though. If anything, he looked relieved, for some reason. Why, though? What could possibly be making him feel comforted by this? Nothing made sense right now, and more importantly, there was another scream. Romano wasn't sure, but he felt as though it was the same voice. "H-Hey... What's going on...?" He asked as tears started to form in his eyes.

"I am sorry, Roma, but I'm just as clueless as you are right now." Spain said dejectedly. "But... I'm going to go see where that's coming from, okay? You stay right here." He ordered, before sprinting off in the direction of the screaming. Lovino wanted to chase after him- to scream for him to come back. But his legs didn't seem to be working. He collapsed back down onto the grass, hugging his bag to his chest. The tears in his eyes were now spilling onto his cheeks.

He didn't know how long he sat there crying before he finally heard another human voice. But surely it had to have been a long time- the sun was setting somewhere in the distance, flooding the scenery in golden-red light. Illuminating everything in rich warm tones. This voice was familiar- something that ignited memories from long, long ago. Memories of crumbling buildings, a pretty girl, and a man in a scarf. Turning his head, Lovino saw that very man. He was up on his feet, holding a red-orange tulip, and scowling. "Netherlands...?" The name came to him almost instantaneously, just as Spain's had.

The man moved his eyes to gaze at Romano, before swiftly and smoothly walking over to him. The blonde man crouched down beside Lovino, staring down at the flower. He didn't say anything at first, but finally- finally he spoke, clearly confused. "I'd assume you haven't got a clue as to what's going on, Romano?" He asked, studying the tulip in his hand.

Lovino shook his head, clutching onto his bag tighter. "No, obviously. Do y-" Before he could even finish speaking, Netherlands cut him off, holding the flower out to Romano.

"This is strange... Tell me, what have you noticed that isn't right? About the environment, I mean." Netherlands said again, looking up at the sky, then back down at the flower. Lovino just shrugged, furrowing his eyebrows. He didn't have any time to answer- the Dutch man kept speaking. "It's January. Tulips shouldn't be blooming. It's warm... Do you know what happened at the meeting?"

Again, the brunet shook his head. How could Netherlands be so calm at a time like this? And why did the time of year even matter? That seemed like the least of their worries right now. His memories were clearly wiped in some way. Were Abel's memories gone, too? Romano thought that Netherlands seemed to be a bit too calm, given the situation. "Does that really matter right now, Flower Bastard? Because I think that the month is the least of our worries right now..." He said quietly. As much as he wanted to yell, he couldn't. He felt as though he would break down if he talked any louder.

"Romano, we need to wake everybody up... I don't know what's going on, and I don't know where we are. I want answers, though, and somebody here obviously has them... Whose footprints are those?" Abel stood back up, still holding onto the flower, and pointed at imprints made in the grass and mud by Spain earlier.

"They're Antonio's." Romano muttered, standing up. He almost fell down again, but Netherlands gripped onto his arm to steady him.

Nodding, Abel tucked the tulip into his coat pocket. "And where is he now? Why didn't the two of you wake anybody else up?" Netherlands asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Though he was obviously a lot more calm and collected than Romano, he was clearly just as confused.

Lovino told him about the screams that they had heard earlier, then about everything else that had gone on that day, which wasn't much. They tried to wake the other personifications of countries up. Nothing worked. They never once let the spot where Lovino had woken up at out of their sights. Eventually, they gave up on trying to awake everybody else, and sat down to wait for Spain. The moon was halfway up by then, and the stars shone brilliantly. Lovino didn't care, though. Sure, it was absolutely gorgeous, but that didn't matter. What mattered was finding out what happened. It was only then that he remembered the envelope. Immediately, he dug it out of his bag.

"I completely forgot... I found this thing in my bag earlier. Do you have one...? Spain had one, so maybe we all do?" Lovino stared down at the paper, running his thumb along his name written cleanly on the back. "This is all so fucking weird, damnit!" He wanted to open the envelope, but something felt off about it. Against his better judgement, he ripped it open, and took out the contents. There were three pieces of paper, which he laid out on the ground in front of himself.

Lovino could see everything clearly, for his eyes had already adjusted to the darkness. Unsure of where to start, he opened one of the papers while Abel rummaged through his own bag. The paper that he chose to open first was white, and the folds were neat. In short, it seemed normal. Beside him, Netherlands opened up his own envelope and unfolded a paper. The Italian's heart was racing.

But before he could open the document, Abel was screaming beside him, clutching his hand, which was emitting... Smoke? The larger man's face was drained of all color, and his eyes squeezed shut. Beside him on the ground was a paper- one that was likely from the envelope. Lovino didn't know how to react- he just stared at the blond, wide-eyed. After a moment, Netherlands had stopped screaming, but his entire body was covered with sweat, and tears were pouring from his eyes. Through gritted teeth, he spoke to Romano. "Don't open your fucking papers." He ordered, slowly removing his right hand from his left, which was now bright red- it looked like it had just been scalded by boiling hot water. There was a symbol on it now- something black. Lovino couldn't see what it was specifically, though. "Read mine- it should be safe now." Abel muttered, nodding towards the paper. The paper that he had been reading moments before whatever the hell just happened. Gingerly, Romano picked the paper up.

To Netherlands (Abel Bloemer),

We knew you'd be one of the ones to survive the initial chaos. Unless the person reading this stole it- in which case, congratulations, you're stupid! Whoever you are (Netherlands, or someone else), you're now officially part of the game! On the other papers, you'll find the rules, and your motivation to play. I doubt you'll be wanting to drop out of the game after you see it.
It's a simple game- every week, you get a new letter. In that letter, there'll be instructions. A challenge of sorts. Failure to complete your weekly challenge will result in the destruction of the very thing you wish to protect (Look at the other paper- it's specific to you~). If you complete the task, however, then your object/person/whatever we have picked out for you will remain safe.
The game lasts 10 weeks, each letter is capable of entering one person, and once you let go of this letter, you'll get a little gift, so as to speak!

Lovino shuddered, staring down at the words. He could barely comprehend what he was reading. It took him three times to be able to understand the words just enough to figure out what they meant. Games, destruction, and protecting... But what was he supposed to protect? Now he had to open his own letters, he had to! What was at stake if he didn't play this 'game', whatever it was? Suddenly, more words appeared on the page- big bold letters at the bottom.

ANYBODY WHO DOES NOT ENTER THE GAME WILL HAVE THE THING THEY WISH TO PROTECT DESTROYED WITHIN 24 HOURS OF THEIR AWAKENING. OPEN YOUR LETTER, ITALY ROMANO.

The words sent shivers down his spine? What was going to be destroyed? What was he meant to protect? Whatever it was, it would be gone very soon if he didn't open his letter- his deathtrap. He was usually cautious, but there were many things that he wanted- no had to protect. His country. His people. His brothers. And most importantly-

Before he even realized what he was doing, Lovino was hastily unfolding his own letter. It said the exact same thing as Abel's did, except for his letter had his own name on it. Italy Romano- Lovino Vargas. He slammed the paper into the grass, reaching for the others. But as soon as his hand left the paper, he felt a burning feeling on his outer thigh, a few centimeters above his knee. But the burning quickly escalated to a horrible flood of emotions and pain. It was like everything that he had ever suffered from- physical or mental- was coming at him, all at once, multiplied infinitely. He couldn't think of anything- he could do nothing but scream as tears flooded from his eyes.

And then it was all over. The pain was gone without a trace, save for a tingling sensation on his leg where the pain started. Cautiously, he reached down to touch it. The fabric of his pants was burnt away there, and words were imprinted on his skin in bold black letters. The font was a handwriting that he couldn't quite place, but the same as the one on the envelope-

REPUBBLICA ITALIANA
SOUTH ITALY/ITALY ROMANO
(LOVINO VARGAS)

Romano stared at the words in horror for a few moments, before finally remembering what he had been wanting to look at. Grabbing the paper with shaking hands, he wiped a tear from his eyes. But there wasn't anything actually written on it. Instead, tucked into the crease in the middle was an old photograph. A photograph of those that he held dear- he had taken it right after the second world war. That way, if a tragedy so terrible happened again, he would have a picture of the people that he held dear. Picking it up, he felt himself crying harder.

The photograph could mean a million different things. Were the people he loved in danger? Or was it deeper than that? Was everything that he ever cared about at stake? He had taken the picture after what he was so sure would be the destruction of the world... These people were his world. Was that what was in danger- the fate of the entire world itself?

Lovino wanted to ask Netherlands what he thought, but when he looked over, the man was gone- it was as though he had vanished without a trace. Did he leave while Romano was screaming? That was probably the case. In his place, though, there was simply his scarf, and a piece of paper with two words scribbled into the center.

Stay safe.