Hello, my lovely readers. I hope you're enjoying this so far. This is one heck of a part, but also the shortest.

& I make fun of Lukas's pitiful strength. Again.

Apologies for the short AN, if anyone is even humored by these.

Hetalia is not mine, or else something like this would be in the anime

I hurry down the ladder to inform Arthur about his deck, when a noxious smell reaches my nostrils. Smoke.

Where there's smoke, there's fire.

My brain slips into panic mode as the adrenaline flows into my body in overtime when I spot the bright flames licking up the walls. Blood pounds in my ears. My breathing becomes slightly labored. I can't think properly. The only dominant thought in my head turns out to be ,"Oh no, I'm gonna die."

No. I will not die. I will get out of here. I just hope Arthur and Nicolae will as well. Speaking of my friends, I hope Arthur found him...

A burning piece of wood grazing my bad arm knocks me out of my thoughts and almost off balance. I can't think of Arthur and Nicolae right now. I have to focus on getting out of here alive.

I fear trying to run after falling the first time, so I try to make my way down the hall at a steady pace. I know I should run, but that will most likely lead to me plummeting to my death this time. I can only survive so many falls. Especially in a fire.

"Nicolae, Arthur," I mutter, nearly tripping over a fallen frame. "If you guys were behind this, I'm going to gut you both like fish."

I pause when I see something sticking out of the frame. I know I'm an idiot for not ignoring it and breaking the number one rule of being in a burning building: Don't stop. But what I see inside intrigues me a little too much. More tarot cards

Lukas, the naggy little voice at the back of my head tells me as I cough from the smoke. Get out of there. You don't want to die.

I leave the cards to burn the way they should. Running down the stairs, a step breaks beneath my foot, sending me tumbling down the rest of the flight. I land painfully on my stomach, my head smashing against the floor.

"Ugh," I moan as I lift my head, feeling blood flowing from my nose. "This is really not my day."

Using my teeth, I unknot a piece of cloth wrapped around a cut on my right arm (my good arm) to hold against my nose in an attempt to stem the flowing blood. I stumble towards the front hallway. Wooden beams collapse from the celing. All burning.

A piece clips my arm, scorching through my shirt sleeve and scalding my arm. A hiss of pain escapes my lips. Dark spots obscure my vision as a wave of dizzyness passes.

"I'll be okay," I whisper to myself between hacking coughs. "I'll get out of here just fine."

I support myself on non-burning patches of wall until I reach the doorway to sweet, sweet freedome. Unfortunately, the door just so happens to be locked. Seriously?

In a fit of rage, my foot lashes out. The force of the momentum fueled by my anger causes the door to fly off its hinges. Okay, I lack the physical stength to do that-even when I'm mad-so the door didn't exactly "fly off its hinges" per say. It just got flung open.

I stagger down the font walkway, finally collapsing on the aged lawn. I allow the claim me and obliterate the agony of my battered body.

For now.

SHORT! I know, but one can only make a scene like this so long. R & R! Please! I asked nicely