Wow, this story is still going on strong with all of these battles and things will start to spiral down to a conclusion that I think will end it properly.
Damn it me getting sick and delaying me writing because the last thing I should be doing is writing while I'm sick. w
And on top of that, it's getting to the end of the semester and I'm burned out...I just want it to be over so I can sleep a day..XDD
Enjoy the chapter!
The snow was just so infinite, never ending until the last snowflake fell from the heavens. Blood and emotions were spilled countless times all for the sake of saving everyone from insanity.
The blonde German was still waiting his turn to attack, but the thought of comrades falling from grace almost fogged up his mentality. White teeth gritted in anger, but he felt someone's hand on his shoulder.
A hand of absolute reassurance, "Listen chap, I'm not going to let you get lost in this battle, you're our trump card. The one to finish it all and justify it appropriately."
Thick eyebrows showed tenacity and Germany could see it. He knew he had to wait just a little more.
Meanwhile America and Cuba were getting closer to their prime target, Canada. As far as relationships go between these two brothers, America was recognized all the time while Canada would have to constantly remind others that he's not his brother. Shy, quiet, and cold, these personality traits resonated strongly and made him feel alone and isolated.
A pair of brothers who look very alike, but are individuals.
Cuba has realized the mistakes he's made throughout the years. I'm such an idiot. Yelling at Canada thinking that he's America and all of the issues I have with that man and his philosophies. I feel so selfish.
All of the stress was wearing down on America the most. He was very scared, something that never happens to him. Most of the time he's prideful and gloating, but never mean in any sort. All he wants to do is eat his fast food and not worry about real problems. That was about to change drastically, but it's never easy for him to make those decisions.
Snow thick as molasses fogged up America's glasses as he could barely see his own flesh and blood.
"I'm so happy to see my dumbass brother, " Canada dropped his head downwards full of maliciousness and a slightly raspy tone, "Alfred."
America knew that the battle would be exhausting and he took off his glasses and put them in a protective case. "Brother, I know a lot has happened since we were young nations. We make mistakes and can learn from them." Tears felt heavy on America's face, "However, this mistake your about to make will have tremendous consequences; I can't let you become something that you're not."
The pain of fighting a brother, similar to Germany's uncertainty about fighting his brother, was unimaginable and inconceivable. America and Canada are so kind and caring, in their own unique ways.
However, all of America's words did not matter to Canada's primary objective. Eliminating those who are too weak to become a part of Prussia's new world.
"Alfred, has anyone bothered to tell you how annoying you can get?" Canada said in his usual quiet tone. All of a sudden, hidden rage emerged, "You always had to steal the spotlight did you?! Always gloating about how great you are and making sure you're the attention whore!"
Even though Cuba was right there, he couldn't let those words to continue to be spoken by one of his friends. "Canada enough! This is not who you are! Wake up!" The Cuban secretly hid a filled needle of anesthesia from Romano's surgery awhile back. He had to wait for the right opportunity to use it.
America on the other hand was determined to fight his brother, "Cuba, stay out of my way." His tone full of serious determination, anything unlike the American's typical attitude. "I'm gonna give this all I've got even if it costs me my body or my soul."
Legs ran quicker than light as America pulled out his 1894 Winchester Model and started pulling the trigger continuously. Shot after shot, Canada's advanced agility allowed him to dodge each bullet. Time and space did not even exist in Canada's mind as he slowly grabbed the end of the barrel with his left hand and snapped the gun in half like a twig.
"What the hell?!" The young, blonde American screamed as he tried to quickly dodge Canada's open right hand for some sort of attack. Uneasiness filled the blue-eyed nation when he would have to physically attack.
Canada's once pure and innocent pale purple eyes were filled with cruel intentions to bring pain to those who have never recognized the shy nation. Whenever he wanted to be recognized by them, he usually met with anger and confusion. Mainly, the confusion that was Cuba's fault.
"Why, Cuba? Every time you see me, you think I'm that barbaric thing called a nation. Brother, you disgust me so much." Pain and suffering could be heard in Canada's voice. Tears heavy as lead slowly dripped down his face and he cried furiously right in front of his brother. He continued to hold onto the broken gun and his dark orange aura appeared. America and Cuba were scared for what was to come. Just as the aura reached its peak of saturation, a small laugh could be heard under Canada's breath. "Ha, you think it's that easy to beat me brother? You may have your guns, but your guns could never match my intelligence which you lack completely."
America didn't know how to react, all he could do was to breathe heavily and try to find the right opportunity to move.
All of a sudden, Canada's open right hand produced a Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife and clenched it tightly to thrust it at America's sternum. The sudden thrust forced America to flip backwards right back to Cuba. Blue eyes filled with absolute frustration forced the American to think rationally and maybe somehow find the good and kind hearted Canada.
"Alfred, what the hell are you doing man? You want to get killed?" Cuba yelled at America and broke him out of his trance. "You can't act like this, your brother needs you the most and you can't afford to mess up now!"
America realized that his moping and attitude was not helping his situation at all. Usually he likes to headwall into every situation that comes his way, but it would not be enough that time. All of a sudden, the prideful America stood up with his gun propped on his shoulder and with a tone full of honor, "Matthew, I will show everyone that you are just as important as me. In fact, I feel so ashamed that I don't hang out with you enough. We are brothers after and there should be no reason at all for you to feel alone or isolated."
Words of encouragement did not matter to Canada at all as his aura intensified again and he gritted his teeth in pure hatred. "You're such an idiot that I just want to laugh so badly." He slowly chuckled and screamed, "All of you will fall before Prussia's feet!"
Canada lurched out again to strike down vertically, but America counteracted with a kick to the chest in hopes of knocking out the knife. The attack luckily connected and the knife fell, and while it fell, Canada's pale hands shot out to choke him. Hands linked up and thoughts of death fleeted through Canada's head as his clasp got tighter and tighter. All air escaped from the youngest nation and he was on the brink of passing out into a coma. Cuba ran with all of his might to help out his ally with the needle present in his right hand. The sloshing liquid was caught by Canada's pale eyes and he knew what Cuba was planning.
Just as Cuba was about to inject the needle, Canada seized the moment to grab the needle. The Cuban tried all of his might to push it forward, but Canada's strength outranked Cuba's.
Liquid slowly drained into Cuba's arm and the feeling of faintness and dizziness overwhelmed him. "No! I can't go passing out." The anesthetic component of the liquid made his body limp and he fell down to the ground hard. His eyelids grew heavier, but he tried to resist it and noticed that the needle wasn't completely empty. That minute amount would be just enough to knock Canada off balance slightly. His voice barely escaped and whispered, "America, you can still win. I believe," Right in the middle of his sentence his eyes closed and with his last breath before falling into unconsciousness, "you."
For once, anger filled the American nation. He was ready to make the necessary actions, even if he knew there would be severe consequences. Juan put himself on the line and it's all my fault. I will not let his actions be in vain.
With an open right hand, America channeled all of his energy into that one focal point. The blood vessels popped out from the enormous surge of energy and his own aura appeared, ready to end it all with one strike. Suddenly, the dormant needle was surrounded by those similar energy spirits and it shattered forcing the remaining liquid into a swirling ball.
"Matthew, I will not allow Prussia to brainwash you into doing regrettable actions." He said with a serious tone and his head tilted to his right side.
The ball of liquid continued to swirl as America ran faster and faster. More strange energies surrounded his whole body.
Canada slightly knew what his brother was up to. I see, you're gonna try to knock me out with a direct attack. It's such a shame that you're putting all of your energy into one, single attack. "If you think you can attack me with brute force, then I think you're mistaking all of the power I have in one finger compared to you!" He yelled with vexation and his eyes slightly slanted downwards. The orange aura appeared again, but part of it formed into a similar ball of energy America had.
Both were running at each with an incredible speed and their own inner powers were just immensely incredible. Almost God-like. However, no where in comparison to Prussia's power. For that was the case.
Spiritual entities collided against each other as America and Canada attacked each other, literally, head on.
Germany could see the humungous explosions from his position and knew America would win his battle.
America and Canada continued colliding with each other. Their massive spirit bombs were far beyond an immortal nation could possibly contain.
"Matthew, I will save you!"
The thought of defeat was not registered in the Canadian and he yelled like a madman, "I will never lose to lowlife like," Just as he was about to finish his sentence, America's energy finally knocked Canada off balance and part of the anesthesia entered through Canada's chest.
A heart can beat so fast, it cannot be heard sometimes. It can be soothing for a calm and human soul.
Eyes full of malice metamorphosed into eyes full of innocence. An innocence filled with familiar shyness.
For once, Canada could smile while his limp body hit the ground hard with a couple of blood splotches across his baby face.
All of the energies dissipated and America's body felt like lead, but he had to make up to his brother. The pain and suffering crippled the young nation, tears of remorse slowly trickled. He slowly walked over to his brother to carry him back to Germany and the others. Just as the crunching sounds of America's passes, Cuba finally wakes up. "Ah man, my head. I feel like I've been on a freaking loopy trip." He said groggily with his body gradually gaining full sensation.
Cuba got up on his feet, and was distraught to see Canada battered and bruised. Matthew, I want to make up to you in any way I can. From now on, I'll treat you with the respect you deserve.
The two slowly made their way back to Belgium's makeshift hospital and saw all of the other battered nations. Estonia was slumped against a boulder and he mustered enough energy to stand up with a slight limp. "Alfred, Juan, I can see that both of you accomplished your goal. The fight's far from over. Germany WILL win it all."
The blonde Estonian stared off into the distance allowing images of Germany saving Prussia from the insanity and madness of his torn and broken soul. No nation should have to suffer like that and Estonia knew that everyone should work together in order to overcome the obstacles. He wanted to think that there was no possible chance of winning the whole war, but something told him not to be a realist for once. Instead an optimist with a bright, clear vision of the future ahead and beyond.
America carried Canada and laid him next to the other fallen and unconscious nations. The sight of nations bruised and blooded churned America's stomach, a feeling he was never used to.
Snow fell and fell, a single flake ever so fragile and delicate enlightened America's mood as it fell directly onto his glasses. All nations are like snowflakes, we collaborate together into one big snowball that should be full of happiness and joy. No nation deserves to feel alone or isolated.
He closed his eyes and let the silence lulled him into a small nap until he would be called for again.
Here's some author's notes for you guys:
The Fairbairn-Skykes fighting knife was a weapon that originated in the United Kingdom, but Canada did use during World War II and I really tried to find a Canadian-based weapon, but it ended up being a huge pain.
The 1894 Winchester Model (XD, I think of Sam and Dean Winchester from Supernatural) was a weapon with American roots and a Sports Gun.
For Cuba's human name, I know there are a couple of names Himaruya listed and I liked the name Juan.
Looks like America used Rasengan...XDD
If always, Google these weapons so that you can get a better visual of them.
Please R&R! Hopefully I can get the next chapter of Second Generation of Sins out soon, but I probably won't get this story done until somewhere in the summer. Don't you just hate it when you plan things out, sometimes it doesn't follow through? TT_TT'