Thanks to stormpix, Mx Akiyata, madders10, Lovesbugsalot and an anon for reviewing.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Chapter 93: Murderer
Some would kill without a second thought.
Others hesitate, even if their own survival is at stake.
…
The three Nations stared at Khemet; Gupta and Miora with some degree of horror, Michael with a blank expression.
"What do you mean?" Gupta asked eventually.
"You need to disrupt their game by removing their pieces," Khemet explained. "The best way to do that would be to kill them."
"Wouldn't it just be easier to kill two counterparts of the same Nation?" Michael asked.
"No. The Major Players can stand in for both sides, so even if you kill the same Nation's two counterparts, they would be able to stand in for both roles."
"This is insane," Miora said. "I can't… Non. We spent too long protecting them. We can't just go around and kill our fellow Nations."
"I can," Michael said, shrugging. The other two looked at him in horror. "I have no problem with killing the others. However, I realise that it would be a little tricky to kill a Nation."
"It's true that Nations' natural immortality might inhibit you," Khemet said. "However, I believe your Bloody Fire that has been heated, coated in a potent poison, would do the trick."
"You can't be serious!" Miora said, glaring at Michael. "You can't… We won't…"
"Do you want the Deathplayers off our backs or not?" Michael asked coldly. "And if you two can't do it, then I'll do it alone. Keep your hands clean, if you want."
"I will not have another Nation's blood on my hands!" Gupta said.
"Like I said, keep them clean if you want. Clearly, your world is different from ours," Michael said, turning around.
"Where are you going?" Gupta demanded.
"To do what must be done."
…
Omar tensed. Something wasn't right. She could feel it.
She looked over towards Anika, making sure she was alright, before she decided to go find Gupta. Somehow, she had a feeling that her counterpart was involved.
…
Michael had gone to seek out Goran. He knew that the Slovene was the only one he could trust for their short and long term goals.
Michael wasn't an idiot. He knew that after everything was said and done, things in his world would return to normal. The truce was in place only because of the Deathplayers. Afterwards…
He was a Northern Nation, and as such, he would do anything in his power to give his side an advantage.
And what better advantage? One of the Southern Powers happened to be in this world, completely helpless. He was sure Japan would be happy with that. And then there were the counterparts of the other Southern Powers: South Africa, Brazil, and now Australia. That made four Nations. Five to go.
Next, he could deal with the traitors: Canada, Moldova and Bulgaria. That made seven. And New Zealand could also be taken care of. That made eight.
That just left one more. He figured that the South wouldn't do anything to France, Prussia or Spain – they were too soft for it. So that left the magic trio and Poland. And Michael wasn't about to kill his brother, or his brother's friends. So Poland was left.
Well, he'd run it by Goran anyway.
He could hear Goran and Yared discussing methods to get the devices to work. The corners of Michael's mouth twitched. They were still trying to find a scientific method to deal with the problem. Normally he would be discussing issues with them, but he had a solution, and it was quite simple.
He frowned when a thought struck him. It was imperative that the Ethiopian not know what they were about to do. As a Southern Nation, he might try to stop them. Or worse.
He might go after Oliver.
Michael shook his head, before he entered the room. He saw the two poring over something in front of the computer, and when they sensed him they looked up.
"Ireland," Yared said. "Perfect timing. We need you to look at this."
Michael nodded his head, going over towards the other two. He immediately saw what they were looking at; a graph that showed a spike of powerful magic. No doubt they were using it to track the Deathplayers.
"That's most likely me and those other two," Michael said. "We did just cast a pretty powerful spell."
"There's more," Goran said, showing another graph.
Michael looked at it. The timestamp was a few hours ago. Around lunchtime, in fact. And the signal… it looked familiar…
"I'll look into it later," Michael said. "For now, I need to have a private word with Slovenia."
Yared waved his hands dismissively, and the two Europeans left the room.
"What is it?" Goran asked as soon as they were out of earshot of the African Nation.
"That spell we cast… It gave us a solution to dealing with the Deathplayers," Michael said.
"Seriously? Well, what is it?"
"We just need to kill the potential Reds or the counterparts of the Reds that have already or will be taken."
Goran chuckled.
"And how exactly do we do that?" he asked.
"Heated Bloody Fire coated in poison," Michael said. "I have the poison."
Goran smirked, fishing inside his pockets, taking out two knives.
"And I have Bloody Fire," the Slovene said. "How many do we kill?"
"Nine. We have India, the counterparts of the other Southern Powers, New Zealand, and the traitors Canada, Moldova and Bulgaria. That just leaves us with one problem."
"Eight. We need one more. And I'm guessing your brother is out of the equation?"
"Yes. And so are his two friends. Tell me, how would you feel about killing Poland?"
"After the Yugoslav War, I wouldn't mind it. Not at all."
"So then. Let's get our weapons ready, shall we?"
…
Ferdinand shuddered. He had a strange feeling that suddenly the game was being changed.
He saw a glimpse of what was happening and his eyes widened. He needed to warn someone that another side had been created, and if they didn't stop it soon enough, a lot of damage could be done. Or he should…
Yes, he should probably do that first.
…
Ludwig sighed in frustration. It would seem that the latest Nation to be attacked by the Beasts was Cape Verde.
She could feel a growing migraine, and she wished things were back to normal. She'd even have a chaotic meeting if it meant that things were back to normal.
…
Goran and Michael smirked as they each held a lighter to a knife. One advantage of Bloody Fire was that it remained heated a lot longer than other metals. Made it ideal for torturing.
It was actually the two of them that discovered the properties of the metal, and they shared it with the rest of the world. In hindsight, it might have been more beneficial if they had kept the discovery to themselves. Oh well.
"Who are you going to go to first?" Michael asked.
"I figured I'd take care of our little punching bag," Goran said. "You?"
"I'll go deal with India. Get the worst out of the way first."
"Good choice. Hoping to score brownie points with Japan?"
"Maybe. If he didn't want to be the one to kill India. Otherwise…"
"Do you think the counterparts would die if we killed them?"
"That's an interesting experiment. We can use Canada as a test subject."
"Which one?"
"The one from our world would be a pain. The other is a little more passive than ours."
"You obviously didn't watch that game."
…
Ferdinand had gone to Andrei's room. The Moldovan was still unconscious, unable to say exactly what happened to Alexandru.
But that wasn't important now.
Ferdinand picked up the child Nation, ignoring his trembling hands. It was more important to get the other to safety. If they found the poor child…
Out of everyone, Ferdinand didn't want anything to happen to Andrei. The other was still a child. Just like how he had been a child when his mind was broken.
He could feel his mind slipping, but he knew that he needed to get the other to a safe place. If they managed to do what they wanted to do…
He didn't know why they decided to make the move, but Ferdinand wasn't about to let things be flawless.
…
Gupta and Miora were making their way to the others. They needed to warn them of what was happening. Neither of them wanted a fellow Nation to die. Not like this.
They bumped into Omar, and the other Egyptian immediately grew worried upon seeing the other two looking a little panicked.
"No time," Gupta said, dismissing her counterpart. "We have a situation on our hands."
Omar gripped Gupta, preventing the other from moving far. She glared at her counterpart, demanding to know what was going on.
"In a nutshell?" Gupta asked. "Me, Miora and your Ireland used a spell to bring one of the Ancients back. Mother, to be exact. Our two mothers merged in the afterlife."
Omar looked a little surprised, but still kept eye contact, demanding the other to continue.
"She told us how to throw off the Deathplayers' game," Gupta continued.
Omar blinked. And?
"It involves us killing our fellow Nations," Miora said. "Nine of them. The potential Reds and/or their counterparts."
Omar's eyes widened, her thoughts immediately going to one Nation in particular.
"Your Ireland decided that he's going to take matters into his own hands," Gupta said.
Omar gasped, and she gestured to the other two to go, while she turned to the other direction. Her meaning was clear.
Get to the others. I'll try to stop Ireland.
"I'm impressed that your counterpart manages to say so much through body language," Miora said as she and Gupta continued to make their way to the other Nations.
"It's an Egyptian thing," Gupta dismissed.
…
Alistair and the other UK brothers returned to the group, looking disappointed.
"The wards won't work," Alistair explained, sitting down on the couch. "Looks like the Deathplayers were prepared for it."
"Great," Ludwig groaned. "Could things get any worse?"
"Don't say that!" Feliciano scolded. "Whenever someone says something like that, things always get worse."
"As ridiculous as it is," Lovino said, "I have to agree with my sorella."
…
Ricardo inhaled deeply, preparing to try and see if he could access the minds of the four potential Reds. It should be easier, considering they were with each other.
Alida and Bruce were nearby, keeping a watch over him. They knew that what he was attempting was pretty dangerous should something go wrong. And he would be vulnerable while delving into the third world, as they called it.
Ricardo nodded, closing his eyes and delving deep. When he opened them again, he was with the other Nations in Roberto's world, close to his counterpart.
Roberto smiled when he saw him, and he immediately went to continue his conversation with the others. Ricardo wondered whose mind he should try first.
It would be a little strange to see into Roberto's mind, someone that was essentially yourself. Which left Anika, Jett and Matthew.
He looked between the other three, trying to decide which one to access first. Thinking about how similar Anika and Alida actually were, he dismissed that option immediately. He'd leave that for later. Now it was only Jett or Matthew.
Matthew was quieter and a lot more reserved than Jett. Frankly, the mind of someone like that scared the Brazilian. And Jett was more outgoing and didn't have the same restraints. Someone like that scared him as well.
Before he could make a decision, however, two Nations burst into the room in a panic, and Ricardo stayed to listen to what they had to say.
…
Mahesh was reading a book when Michael entered his room. The Indian frowned, glaring suspiciously at the Irishman. He seemed a little too relaxed for Mahesh's tastes.
"Is there something I can help you with?" Mahesh asked, his voice cold.
"I just thought I'd inform you that we have a solution to the Deathplayer issue," Michael said.
The way he said that made Mahesh narrow his eyes in suspicion.
"Why would you be so kind enough to tell me?" Mahesh asked.
"Because you're one of their pieces. The Deathplayers' pieces. And the solution was so simple, I don't know why we didn't think of it sooner."
"Get to the point."
"Eliminate the pieces, and the game can't be played."
Michael removed a knife, and Mahesh's eyes widened. He could recognise Bloody Fire, and he knew that it was heated just by looking at it.
"So you're going to murder me," Mahesh said.
"We need to kill nine of their pieces, since their Beasts act as their eight reserves," Michael said. "Do the math. Who else do you think will die?"
Mahesh's breath hitched. He knew.
"You're going after Roberto and Anika," Mahesh said.
"If you mean Brazil and South Africa, yes. How does it feel, knowing that the counterparts of your two closest friends will be killed? And you won't be able to warn them, because you'd be dead as well."
"There's a truce," Mahesh spat.
"Perhaps, for now. But what happens afterwards? Do you think that things would be like this world? North and South would still be at war with each other. And as a Northern Nation, it's my duty to take care of one of the Southern leaders, as well as the Northern traitors."
"This isn't going to work," Mahesh said. "The Deathplayers told me that while I'm in this state, only they or Raj could kill me."
"I think you misinterpreted," Michael said. "They were most likely referring to their game. What's necessary for the game to be completed. But if you want, we can have a little experiment over who's right: Ancient Egypt or the Deathplayers?"
Mahesh's eyes widened, and in an instant Michael was on him, the knife poised to strike. Mahesh struggled, until he felt the knife pressing against his throat.
"You often employ suicide tactics in your battles," Michael said. "Yet when faced with true death, you want to fight. If we didn't have a deadline, you'd be a fascinating research subject."
And Mahesh felt the burning blade pierce his skin and slice, the pain intense, and he realised too late that there was additional poison on the blade.
Overkill at its finest.
…
Goran smirked when he entered Nicolai's room. The Bulgarian was sleeping, and the Slovene thought about how easy it was.
But he didn't want it easy. The Bulgarian had to pay for betraying the North. For spying on them for the South. And for trying to fight back. Punching bags didn't fight back.
He went to the dresser and removed a shirt. Tearing some of the cloth, he decided to use it as a gag. He would be the last Nation to play with their little punching bag. He wanted the memory to last, and to burn the Bulgarian's last memory into his soul.
He gently grabbed the Bulgarian's jaw and stuffed the makeshift gag into his mouth. The other let out a muffled sound of protest but didn't wake. Goran smirked, thinking that it was strange how someone that was used to being tortured at unexpected times was so relaxed.
He blamed this world.
Goran then pulled the sheets aside and straddled the Bulgarian's waist, and the unexpected weight made the sleeping Nation wake up. Goran made sure to pin the Bulgarian's arms with his legs, so Nicolai wasn't able to get away, and he also couldn't remove the gag to call for help.
"Good evening, Bulgaria," Goran said. "I missed this. Did you?"
Nicolai shook his head, trying to free his arms. Goran chuckled.
"Unfortunately, this isn't a random time for games. We found out how to put a stop to the Deathplayers' game. You're not going to like it, but I think it's going to be fun."
Nicolai was looking at him with wide, fearful eyes, and Goran knew that he was paying close attention.
"Apparently, we just need to kill a few of their game pieces," Goran continued. "Like you, for example."
Nicolai's eyes widened, and he started to struggle, letting out muffled sounds of protest.
"Apparently the way to do it is heated Bloody Fire with an extra layer of poison," Goran continued, ignoring the other's struggles. "Let's see how well it works."
Goran sliced the Bulgarian's cheek, and Nicolai screamed in pain. The Slovene figured that it burned.
"Did you decide to be a traitor because you were lonely?" Goran asked. "Did you think that if you had friends in the South you wouldn't be our punching bag anymore? Are you unhappy with your place?"
Nicolai glared, and Goran nodded in acknowledgement.
"You don't have any friends from our world," Goran said. "And I don't know how the Nations of this world feel about you. Do you?"
Nicolai averted his eyes, and Goran knew that the other didn't know either.
"Too bad we can only find the answer to that question once you're dead," Goran said, positioning the knife over Nicolai's heart. "I'd say that it's been nice knowing you, but honestly I couldn't care less."
And Goran grinned as he slid the knife into Nicolai's chest, relishing in the muffled screams. It had been too long since he inflicted pain on another Nation, and as he heard the other scream he found himself wanting more.
Good thing there were other people to kill as well.
…
The Deathplayers were discussing who they should target next when they were suddenly caught off guard by one of their Reds screaming in pain, clutching his throat. They turned to regard Raj, whose wide eyes had a little more clarity than they would have liked.
"Mahesh," Raj whispered.
Almost immediately afterwards Dimitri started screaming, clutching his chest. The Deathplayers looked towards each other in worry.
"Keep them under," the England Deathplayer ordered. "I'll go see what's going on."
The India and Bulgaria Deathplayers went to their respective Reds and wrapped their hands around their upper arms. Instantly they slumped, their eyes closed.
"Whoever is interfering with our game is going to suffer," the India Deathplayer said, glaring down at his Red counterpart.
The Major Players would need to be contacted.
And now a little rant. When you're going to another country, you accept that it already has a culture and language. Same should go for universities. My university has Afrikaans, English and Tswana as its main languages, with Afrikaans being the dominant one. The university is split into three campuses in three different cities, and mine is Afrikaans, another is English and another is both (that's how the classes work). So now, a bunch of the English students are upset that the classes are in Afrikaans, and meetings are in Afrikaans, and the general culture is Afrikaans. They're saying that they're being oppressed, that they're silenced. That is absolute bullshit! There are excellent interpretation services, and in classes where they don't have it, the lecturer would give the class in English for the sake of the two or three that only speak English, regardless of their own proficiency in English. And some of the textbooks are only available in English. And now they're saying that we don't accommodate them?! The real issue is because the majority of the English speakers on my campus is black, and the majority of the Afrikaans speakers is white. That's the real issue: white students are outnumbering the black. Last year they attacked by calling the campus racist, comparing us to Nazis. And this might sound a little bit racist, but the other universities lost their quality of life after becoming English and all the Afrikaans influence was lost. They might still have a good education system, but they're not safe, and not particularly pleasant to live in. They're also attacking the student culture, targeting the extracurricular activities, or things that are unique. They already took away O&B, which is where we kindly remind the first years that they're no longer the rulers of a school. They're the babies now, and we destroy the mentality of cliques and bullying. And my campus was closed today, as in completely closed (in Afrikaans, the word we use also means 'locked') because there were protests from both sides. A bunch of English students wanted to tear down a statue of one of the Afrikaans poets on campus, and the Afrikaners' reaction was to protect it. This caused a bit of conflict, and now I received a message from the university saying that it's closed in order to protect the students and the hostels are advised to evacuate the students. And if you've ever seen protests in South Africa, you'd understand why this is necessary (Sharpeville, Soweto, etc.). And the campus psychiatrists are open for students that are remaining and feeling nervous about everything. And you know what's the worst part? They're doing this in the last week of classes, after all the participation marks are in and a week before exams start, meaning that the student population is slightly diminished because if your classes are cancelled, or you feel there's nothing left to do, you're going home. They're cowards! They know that there aren't as many people to fight back. And it's just the black students that seem to have a problem. The Indian students are fine, and I have an acquaintance that's from Spain that never complained about the Afrikaans language policy. Seriously, what did they expect? That now that they're there, things would change for their sake? No matter how long it's been like this, they want it all to change. If they were upset with it, then they might as well have gone to another university. The fact of the matter is, my university is one of the last places in South Africa where the Afrikaner culture is still safe. Where we can speak our language with no problem. And it's one of the few places that is still safe in general. Okay, not 100%, but still better than most of the other cities.
Sorry for the long rant. It's been bothering me for a while now. And if you know which university I'm talking about, then I'm impressed. Same with if you've read all of that.