Italy made more chicken scratch on the paper.

Mi Fratello recounted the horrible things in the dungeons... Especially to Seborgia, Vatican City and Sicily.

"Big Baby is doing what?"

A little tanned girl dressed in a black and white checkered dress and red vest with her hair in a pony tail that had a single loose curl looked absolutely shocked. Her mouth hung open as Vatican City and Seborgia looked at each other worriedly.

Vatican City looked appalled. A pale hand grasped the rosary that fell on his robes. "God save his soul...! Doing such things to other children of god is unacceptable!" He began to pray.

Seborgia shivered. "W-what are we going to do, Big Bro?"

Romano looked away for a moment. "He has a few countries – mostly the girls – serving him. If we could get them to revolt..."

"What about us?" Vatican City asked softly.

"Well...We're going to have to help them along."

Italy noticed something weird as of late.

Servants had been whispering to each other and looking warily.

Italy called Romano once more, worried.

"They're going to revolt, I can feel it."

Romano swallowed the lump in his throat. "D-Don't be ridiculous, you paranoid bastard!" He said. "Why would they revolt?"

Italy nodded in agreement. "Good...Thanks Romano! You've been there for me for my life, even if you haven't realized it...Thank you."

Romano almost felt bad.

The servants were once more talking seriously, dark looks on their face.

"...at 3 o' clock..."

"Isn't that...?"

"That makes...perfect...!"

"Yeah!"

Italy leaned over the balcony, his chin resting in his hand.

"Can I do anything for you sir?" A voice asked politely.

When Italy turned, he saw Brazil. "No. I don't believe I asked for you."

"Oh?"

Another girl walked in. "Did you ask for me?"

"Or me?"

"What about me?"

"Bitches, he asked for me!"

"He totally asked for me!"

Italy watched in horror as his room filled with women, all angry looking.

"No, you large-breasted, too tall maids!"

Sicily stepped forward, glaring at her brother. "He called for me – The Mafia capital of the world!"

Italy looked in shock. "You? That means..."

Everything rushed to Italy all at once.

"Romano!"

"Tick-tock, tick-tock – Late!" Sicily said, teasing her brother. "Vatican and Seborgia are releasing prisoners. Romano is arranging your armies along with... Our Family."

Everyone in the room held different weapons – staffs, axes, pikes, daggers, swords, even nun-chucks.

And Sicily had a gun.

"Any last words?"

Italy looked down, over the balcony. It wasn't that far...

He jumped.

The girls looked over the edge. Most of them complained about the rain that was falling.

Sicily aimed and fired, catching Italy's wrist.

"DAMMIT!"

Sicily's scream drowned out any sound Italy made.

And Italy ran.

He ran until he was inhaling pure rain water. He couldn't breath. But he ran.

Italy's dress shirt was splattered with red.

Red.

Red.

Italy finally stopped in front of an old cemetery. He walked in, feeling that this place was simply too familiar.

Italy sat of one of the crumbling grave stones, panting heavily.

"Romano...Romano!"

Italy screamed for his brother, ready to pull out his hair.

"Romano, Romano, Romano!"

Italy found himself crying.

"Why? I had it all! I was strong! I didn't need Germany's protection any–"

Italy paused, panting heavily.

"...oh!"

Italy remembered what he did so long ago.

Three hundred and sixty five... Was it?

That was the number.

It was then, Italy realized -

Italy looked at his pen. "No..."

He was out of ink.

"DAMMIT!"