Thanks to Midna18, Wind Whisperer, xkittiesx, Platinum, Dragonfire78, EverythingMath, Miss Akiyata and BloodLily16 for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Chapter 41: Players

Finally, the pieces have become aware of the players.

Now the game starts to get interesting.

…

"You have got to be kidding me," Gilbert muttered.

For a change, it wasn't Gilen that was plaguing his nightmares. But he was sure that he would want to have someone else.

Standing in front of him was some sort of punk wannabe (and he might actually admit that England pulled off the look better than the Nation in front of him did), and he could easily recognise the Austrian, in spite of his new clothes.

"Gilen is a little busy, so he asked me to play," the other, whom he learned was named Dominik, said.

"Seriously unawesome," Gilbert muttered. "This is insulting to my awesomeness. Sending the prissy Austrian to 'fight' me." Gilbert smirked when he saw the Austrian bristle. "But this would be fun. It's been a while since I could mess with Austria without Hungary interfering. So watch as I awesomely beat you!"

…

They all stared at the creatures that had arrived. The Nations from the other world, with the exception of Omar and Eva, were confused about the situation.

The Brazil lookalike glanced towards Luciano with a bored look in his eyes.

"There's no need for you to know at this point in time," he said, before he waved his hand.

The next instant, the nine intruders were gone.

"Where are they?" Anika demanded.

"I just sent them back to their own world," the Brazil lookalike said, shrugging. "There's no need for our Pawns to become too knowledgeable. The Queen, on the other hand, is a different story."

"So is a Knight," the South Africa lookalike said, looking towards Raj.

"Please, for heaven's sake, get out of that dress," Anika said. "And don't speak like that."

"I thought it was an improvement. The Black Queen wasn't happy about it either."

"So what is that thing?" Miora interrupted, looking back towards the bed.

The draconian creature was still looming over the unconscious Welshman, looking at them with curiosity.

"He is one of us," the Canada lookalike said. "Though, he is more… feral. He had a slight detour through hell before returning to this plane of existence."

"There are a few others like him," the South Africa lookalike said. "Each in the body of one of the Nations. Having been hidden away. Feeding on the power the Nations thrive on. Everything that has kept that Welshman alive has kept him alive as well."

"We had some difficulty tracking them down," Brazil's lookalike said. "They cannot be traced, even by us. Unless a huge amount of pain is involved. So until we figure out where the others are, we'll torture as many Nations as we have to."

"There is no need," the creature said, speaking for the first time. "I can sense where my brethren are. None of these Nations. Which are important pieces?"

"The Queen and the Knight," the South Africa lookalike said. "Then I suppose it is time to depart."

Before anyone could say or do anything, the Deathplayers all disappeared.

"So," Rosa said, "those are Deathplayers? I'm feeling sorry for you, Anika. But I have to admit, that dress looks nice on you."

"Don't ever mention it again," Anika muttered.

…

Toris's eyes widened when he saw who was supposed to be his opponent. He wasn't sure what to make of this.

"Ukraine?" he questioned.

The woman smirked, stepping closer.

"Tolys is too busy, so he asked me to step in," she said, raising a knife and playing with it. "I have to admit, he has a certain authority as a woman that he didn't have as a man. I'm actually impressed."

Toris took a step back nervously.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

She smirked, walking closer.

"If you really want to find out, I guess I'll have to oblige," she said.

"Wait, no!"

…

"What just happened?" Oliver asked.

They were back in their own world, in Luciano's house.

"I'm not sure," Luciano said. "But I think I know who might have an answer."

…

Ludwig glared at the other German standing across from him. From what he could tell, the other took no pride in his appearance. He had always prided himself in his eye for detail, and he could easily see the uncared for uniform, the uncombed hair and the unpolished boots. It was a disgrace for the other to walk around like that.

"Could you at least take some pride in your appearance?" Ludwig huffed.

"What does it matter?" Lutz asked. "The way I see it, how I look doesn't matter. As long as I can still torture and kill, there is no problem."

"A soldier that takes pride in his appearance is an efficient soldier," Ludwig countered. "If you can't even do that, then why did you bother stepping onto the battlefield? Even Gilbert, in spite of being a dummkopf most of the time, knows that one must take pride in your appearance, and strive to be as neat as possible. Efficient lifestyle makes for an efficient soldier."

Lutz mock yawned in boredom, then fixed the blue-eyed man with a pair of hard violet eyes.

"I don't see what that has to do with anything," he said. "Italy has also lectured me on the subject."

Ludwig smirked.

"You know it's an epic fail if Italy lectures you."

Lutz's eyes narrowed.

"Let's see how efficient you are then."

Ludwig might not have his gun or his whip, and Lutz might have a large knife with him, but Ludwig wasn't worried. He still had his fists, and even if it wasn't helpful against a knife, it was something he could fight with, and something he could use to his advantage.

…

Alida frowned, looking at the mirror. Now she had to explain things to Mahesh. And she probably had to get around to explaining the Deathplayers to Ricardo as well, considering the fact that there was a Deathplayer parading around with his face.

She groaned, hearing the familiar tune of her cell phone ringing. She wanted to groan even louder when she saw exactly who was calling her.

"I thought we've established that we hate each other," Alida said as soon as she answered the phone. "Why the hell are you bothering me this time at night?"

"You know something about those D… something," Italy said. "I want you to tell me what they are now!"

"Nope, sorry. Clueless. Bye-bye."

She hung up the phone. She had no reason to want to explain things to Italy. If he remained ignorant of it all, then it was fine. There was no reason why she had to warn him about the Deathplayers.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, a smirk appeared on her face. Fine, let her archenemy be defenceless and ignorant of the greatest threat any Nation could ever encounter. It could actually help her in many ways.

But she had to warn the rest of the Southern Nations. She actually cared about them.

…

Francis couldn't believe who was standing in front of him. It wasn't right.

It was a petite girl with dirty blond hair and blue-grey eyes. The same as Francois. Her hair was slightly longer than shoulder-length, and there was a purple bow in her hair on the left side. She wore a ripped dark purple shirt with ripped black skinny jeans and black boots. There was a smirk on her face.

He wouldn't have recognised her, had it not been for the glasses.

"Monaco," he whispered.

"Oui," she said. "I am known as Celeste. Monsieur Francois couldn't make it, so he asked me to keep you busy."

"Why would you want to listen to someone that hurts you?"

She barked a laugh.

"Did you think that every Nation under his control suffered abuse? Non. Only those that he felt needed a helping hand, or those that started to get too rebellious. He has never hurt me. I am his petite princesse. His right hand. His heir. And now, your tormentor."

Francis took a step back, and he felt his hatred for Francois grow. He knew that there was no way that he would be able to fight the girl. She was his protégé. His little sister. He couldn't hurt her, even an alternate version of her.

But apparently, she had no problems with hurting him.

…

Raj approached the unconscious Wales. He had grown extremely pale, but he was thankfully still breathing. What concerned him was the blood covering his body from various cuts. The most distressing was the cut on his abdomen.

"We should probably treat his wounds," Raj said.

"Oui," Miora said. "We also need to calm them down."

Raj looked towards the women, who were still a little mad at their opponents. They could also see the state William was in, and they were also on edge from the Deathplayer.

"Madagascar," Raj said, "you know about the Deathplayers, right?"

"Of course," she said. "Nearly every African knows about them. The only exception is the Saharan countries."

"Tell me, what do they want?"

"They've only ever had one goal in mind. And that is revenge over Nations."

"Why?"

"Because they themselves were Nations, but they were short-lived and Ancient. Some of them have only been around for a year, while others had ten years. The longest we've heard of was fifty years. Since humans were mostly nomadic in those days, no one called the land their own. It was still the case in many African tribes, like the San. But San was the personification of their culture, and that one lasted for forty thousand years. A record, to be honest. The Deathplayers started to return to the earth, but they encountered a problem, and they're in this half state. They hate Nations because we're the same as they used to be, but we still flourish. How old are you, for example?"

"I see your point," Raj sighed.

"We Africans are where humans started, and a large number of Deathplayers were Africans. That was why, when it looked as though new Nations rose that could last for centuries, they started torturing us. Anika had it the worst, since she was the first of the New African Nations to be born."

"What do you mean?"

"We all had predecessors. South Africa was the first Sub-Saharan African to come in contact with Europeans. She was born the moment the Portuguese ships set sail. She also has the Cradle of Humankind, to which the Deathplayers returned when their lives as Nations came to an end. There's also something else that I'm not so sure about. Some strange reason why they dislike her."

"And then the Deathplayer took on her form," he sighed, before blushing. The dress she wore was something Anika would never wear, and looked strangely alluring on her.

…

"Come on, pork chop," the dark-skinned American taunted. "Is that all you've got?"

Alfred wiped the blood away from his mouth, glaring at the other, who he learned was called Allen. Allen had managed to hit him across the face with his bat, and Alfred was glad that he had such a thick skull.

Of course, he would never admit it out loud.

"Stop calling me pork chop!" Alfred shouted.

"Sorry," Allen taunted. "Would you rather I call you 'blubber butt'? Or maybe 'captain pudge'?

"I am not fat! I drink a lot of diet soda to balance out all the other stuff I eat!"

"Um, have you never considered drinking water? And maybe eating something else? What do you usually eat, anyway?"

"Um, hamburgers, fries, pizza, hot wings, buffalo wings, barbecue…"

"Stop right there. Uh, all those things are disgusting. No wonder you're a fat butt."

"I am not fat! The hero is never fat! That would be totally unheroic!"

…

Alida sighed.

She had chosen to listen to India and Madagascar's conversation. She knew why the Deathplayers disliked her country. It was because she used to be a No-man's-land. Or rather, her mother, Southern Africa, was.

But she was the child of a Nation that existed in spite of no one being there. But that was also why she was so pale, regardless of how much time she spent in the sun.

The other Southern African Nations were also No-man's-lands, but they didn't have to deal with the Deathplayers when they were younger.

Asides from the Southern African Nations, there was one other Nation that was a No-man's-land. Someone that was involved since the beginning.

Someone that had been hurt by the Deathplayers in indirect ways for a long time. Or at least, the one on the other side of the mirror had been.

…

"Oh no," Lukas groaned.

Instead of Sigurd plaguing his dreams, it was someone that was obviously Denmark.

A version of Denmark that he hadn't seen since their Viking days. And that scared him.

This Denmark appeared to be serious and focused. He also had a mad glint in his eye that Lukas had never seen on Mathias.

And when the Dane raised his axe, Lukas knew that this Denmark wouldn't stop until he was nothing but tiny pieces.

…

The next morning, pretty much everyone was grumpy. Some of them had received visitors in their dreams, while others had been trying to awaken those Nations.

And the Nations that had been kept busy by counterparts that were not their own were suspicious about their own counterparts' actions. Except for Arthur, who had immediately made her way to Will's room, and was horrified when she saw the state of her older brother. Raj and Miora had been treating his wounds, but Arthur was still horrified when she saw the state her brother was in. Especially when she saw the wound on his abdomen.

Only the Italy brothers (well, two brothers and one sister) were unaffected, since their sleep wasn't interrupted.

So at the table at breakfast, most of the Nations were a little cranky. And those that weren't particularly cranky were scared.

Strangely enough, their fear was not directed at their counterparts.

It was six Nations in their own world.

Hungary was upset, and so was Greenland and Argentina. Since Greenland and Argentina didn't get angry often, their anger was terrifying. Hungary kept her frying pan nearby, and had almost hit Prussia and Romania the moment she saw them, completely unprovoked.

The other three were just as terrifying. Everyone knew that Belarus was insane and was scary enough to scare Russia, who was also terrifying, but an angry Belarus was a different matter entirely. Lithuania had to duck when she got too close. And everyone in Latin America knew that when Mexico embraced her Aztec heritage she was a force to be reckoned with. Even Alfred knew to stay away. And every African Nation knew that South Africa was not to be messed with when she as in her Zulu mood, and so did every Nation that used to be part of the British Empire. In fact, the UK siblings were actually afraid of her.

Anyone that knew first-hand what their anger was like sat as far away from them as possible, which resulted in the only Nations that would sit close to them were the Middle Eastern Nations, a few of the Asians, and the Nations from the other side of the mirror, who were used to this amount of hostility.

Asides from being grumpy, the Nations were also apprehensive. Nine of the counterparts managed to go through the previous night. How long before the others would come through for an all-out war?

"A thought occurred to me," Raj said. "If Anika and the other girls were fighting your counterparts, why didn't you wake up?"

He looked towards Arthur and the others as he spoke, and the other Nations also looked over to them with curiosity.

"The other Wales kept me busy," Arthur said. "They seemed to not want us to interfere."

"At least you weren't molested the entire night by the other Hungary," Vlad muttered.

"What?!" Elizaveta shouted.

"Kesesese," Gilbert chuckled. "That's hilarious! And I can't believe I'm saying this, but the prissy aristocrat is more awesome than his punk wannabe counterpart. He's still unawesome, but less so than the other one."

"It might just be my imagination," Vash said, "but did Prussia just compliment Austria?"

"If Roderich was here, he would be speechless," Elizaveta said.

"I met the other Denmark," Lukas said. "Think of a more focused version of Viking Denmark."

Many of the Nations that had known Mathias during his Viking days shuddered at the thought.

"I met mon petite Monaco," Francis said. "I also need to call Marie to make sure that she is alright."

"I met the other Mexico," Antonio said. "That chica is muy loca."

A few of the South Americans stole nervous glances towards Rosa, who arched her brow in challenge.

"The other Ukraine was in my dream," Toris said. "She scares me more than Russia."

Katyusha jumped, and many of the other Nations stared in astonishment.

"By the way, has anyone seen the two Koreas?" Yao asked.

"I'll go check," Jeng Soo sighed.

…

Yong Soo was tending to his twin's wounds.

Hyung Soo looked worse for wear, and he seemed to not see his brother. He was covered in cuts, some deep, others shallow. All done with a sword. Along with the cuts, bruises also littered his skin. He couldn't use his hands, as each of the fingers had been broken. Both of his shoulders were also dislocated, and his right arm was twisted at an awkward angle. Both of his ankles were also twisted at awkward angles, and there were large bruises at his kneecaps.

In other words, he took quite a beating.

Yong Soo looked up when the door opened, seeing Jeng Soo standing there with wide eyes.

"What happened?" Jeng Soo whispered.

"The other Japan," Yong Soo said. "Hyo Soo said that if they can't have one North Korea, they'll settle for the other."

There was silence, before Jeng Soo sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I feel this is my fault."

"So this is what they're capable of," Yong Soo mused. "What are they like in war?"

"Worse. A lot worse."

"I see. Then I guess we need to stop them, da-ze."

Next chapter, I'll focus on some of the others' injuries, and how they're recovering after their encounters.

I also accidentally got a friend of mine to support EgyptXSouth Africa. And it got me thinking. I'm not going to start pairing off any characters, but I would like to know what kind of pairings you can imagine from this story. I'm genuinely curious.

Also, 1P Austria and Monaco didn't join the group, as I can't imagine them willingly get involved in something like this, but because their counterparts are nasty, Luciano called the 2Ps. And Francois has his own reasons for involving Monaco. It will be revealed soon enough.