"England! Wake up!"
Pounding on the door brought him out of his sleep and increased the throbbing inside his head. Which also felt as if it had shrunken during the night, increasing the internal pressure. He groaned as another pang of pain traveled through his head and swore to never drink again. A vow he knew he would break eventually. But at the moment he only wished to quell his hangover.
Yes, he had been drinking again, and, based on the quick glance around the room, it had been with France. But why…
He burst out of the sheets, wincing slightly because his pain receptors flared from the sudden movement. Memories of the previous day flooded into his mind and cleared the initial grogginess. As the knocking continued, he wondered why France didn't just come in, since it was his home after all. Shaking his head, England noticed a white envelope on the nightstand.
Normally, he would have ignored any object that didn't belong to him. But the inscription on the envelope motivated him to grab it.
"Concerning America…"
He tore through the seal with haste and found a single paper folded inside.
"Congratulations, Mr. England. You are one of the few nations who have been invited to this special viewing. It is an honor to know that you will be joining us. I hope you will enjoy the show, which will start at 9:00 GMT. At the bottom of this invitation, you will find a website address along with your user I.D. and password. As I mentioned before, only a small number was chosen, and this was the best option to keep out unwanted viewers. I apologize for any inconveniences."
He blinked before rereading the letter, rereading the time.
9:00 GMT…
Cursing under his breath, he noticed his coat was draped over the end of the bed. Quickly crawling to it, he removed his cellphone and looked at the digital numbers.
8…59…
BST. Still an hour left…
His body relaxed slightly at this information, though the adrenaline continued to keep his heart racing. Too much excitement. Too early in the day.
"England, I swear if you don't open this door I'm going to break it down and make you pay for the damages!"
Brought back from his thoughts, he realized that France was still outside. He quickly got off the bed and unlocked the bedroom door. Which was strange, because he didn't remember locking it the night before.
"Took you long enough! I hope you have a wonderful hangover for the rest of the day!"
"Shut up! You try waking early after drinking 151 proof alcohol!"
"That explains a lot."
"Look, we don't have time to be arguing like this! I just found a letter on the nightstand…"
"…You mean like this?"
Emerald eyes widened as France pulled out an open envelope, the familiar inscription on the front. He felt his hand shake as he held onto his own envelope.
"You too, huh?"
"Yes, I found it on the kitchen table when I came out in the morning. You were still asleep so I made a couple calls…"
"And?"
"So far, I know that Germany, Italy, and Russia also got the…invitation. Canada won't pick up his phone, and I have yet to contact the countries in Asia…"
"Damn it! Why are we invited while the rest of the world isn't? What is that bloody bastard planning?"
"I don't know, England. But I have a feeling we're not dealing with a normal human."
He snorted at the comment. "Of course! I thought I told you that yesterday?"
France shook his head. "Have you taken a look at the website address?"
"No…why?"
England reopened the paper and skimmed to the said part. His eyes went over the line once. Twice.
"France, it's just a random string of letters and numbers."
"My point exactly. It's not a regular web address. And there is no coherence in the ordering, no hints or clues."
"I've never seen this domain either…will this link even work?"
France motioned him to follow and led him into the study. The desktop was already on, but England only saw a black screen.
"Are you going to turn that on?"
"Ah, I had forgotten that I left it in this state."
Fingers quickly maneuvered over the keyboard and canceled the full-screen feature. The result was still a black screen, but there was a smaller window also present. In the middle of the rectangle, numbers counted down the remaining minutes before the appointed time.
"This is what came up when I typed in my I.D. and password. Nothing's changed, and I doubt that anything will happen until the indicated time on the paper."
"France, contact your security team and see if they can track the original computer."
Wavy locks swayed as the head shook. "Already did. But our little friend is one step ahead of us. Any uninvited users are blocked…"
"Even if they use your I.D.?"
"England, they can't even access the site. In fact, their browsers say that the site doesn't exist!"
"What, so he knows our IP addresses or something?"
"That's a possibility. Our hackers are trying to find a backdoor, but last I heard, they have yet to find the location of the code in the World Wide Web."
England let out a frustrated growl. "So we're just twiddling our thumbs now."
"Pretty much, unless you have any ideas."
"I've got nothing…damn, he sure knows how to make someone feel worthless. By the way, where did you put my bag?"
"Next to your bed. I'm surprised that you didn't notice it."
He left without a word and returned with a laptop in his hands. Swiftly finding an outlet, he hooked everything up and booted the machine, waited for the system to load. In the meantime, France managed to make another call.
"Well, it looks like Japan got the letter."
"Really…"
"It's too suspicious, England. So far, all the nations who got an I.D. are…"
"The members of the G8."
France blanched, though England remained focused on his laptop. "You knew?"
"I had a hunch. Something told me that the bastard was aiming for the wealthier nations."
"Then why not the G20 members?"
England shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe he doesn't like big crowds. Or maybe he thinks it's more elegant to have a small party."
"How can you speak so calmly?"
Desperate eyes turned to him, emeralds glistening in the light with unshed tears. "I have to stay calm, otherwise I…I might go crazy. I seriously thought about flying over and talking to his government. Of helping them find America. Of killing the bastard who's causing all this…" A shaky sigh. "I have gone crazy, haven't I?"
"No, you're merely worried because you care about him." A surprisingly gentle hand falling on England's shoulders. "Just like I care about him."
"…Thanks, France."
"Try not to let the stress get to you too much."
"Yeah…Don't you dare mention this to anyone else."
"Oh I won't. Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation as a…ah, what did Japan call it? As a tsundere."
Resisting the urge to throw his wireless mouse at the smirking nation, England proceeded to enter his information into the website. "It's a little strange though. Why is my I.D. so simple? I mean, 'QS'?"
"Mine was 'KD,' but if we consider the possibility that he has our IP addresses, it'd be much easier for him to use concise names to identify us."
"And our passwords, he's making us use our human names? How much information about us does he have?"
"From the looks of it, he knows us very well. And we know very little about him."
At that moment, both screens showed the young man, once again in a cavern-like environment. And once again with a smile on his face. Time had passed without their warning, so they were initially startled by the sudden change on their computers. However, both regained their composure quickly. France went to his desk while England drew closer to his laptop.
"To both the old and the new viewers, I welcome you to this live streaming! It is good to know all of you could make it. I promise that the show will be a good one. Much better than the preview, for those who understand my reference."
He gave a quick wink, causing England to growl and France to frown.
"All of you are aware that nations can persevere through many trials, much more than the average human. But what about the spirit? Is there anything in the present world that can traumatize a nation in a short amount of time? Why don't we find out."
The man backed away from the camera, which was placed at an angle that allowed the viewers to see the entire area. It was not a large room, though there was a good amount of space between the walls. Lighting was dim, almost as if there was a single light in the entire room. A light that was shining primarily in one corner.
The chair was still there, chained to the earthy walls to prevent movement. America was still there. Still restrained. Head still hanging low. This time, though, he was wearing a grime-strained, sleeveless shirt and a pair of torn blue jeans. Apparently his captor had enough pity to change the soiled clothes from before.
Whether it was due to the lighting or from the previous attack, America's physical state looked worse than it did in the previous video. Sickly pale skin. Traces of discoloration on the right side of the body. Unnatural stillness. Unmoving, slack form.
The young man did not show concern. In fact, he walked over to the bound nation at a leisurely pace without looking back at the camera. Smiling the entire way. He stopped in front of America and playfully mussed the messy hair.
"Time to wake up! Now I know it's a little early, but I think you have slept long enough."
"Fuck you." The voice was rough, most likely hoarse from the screaming.
"Still unwilling to talk in a civilized manner?"
"You killed my people, destroyed my lands, and you want me to act properly with you?"
"You wound me, America. I told you that was an accident."
"Go kill yourself, you fucking son of a bitch!"
A coughing fit as a result of the raised voice.
"I warned you about getting excited in your condition. You never listen, do you?"
A head shake. Condescending. He moved off the screen, giving them an opportunity to see America. The nation was still coughing uncontrollably. Eyes shut against the onslaught. Tears streaming down haggard cheeks. Missing glasses, his treasure. It pained them to see him in such a state, even more so when they realized they couldn't help him.
The man returned with a bottle of water, which he offered with a smile. America started to reject, but was forced to take a drink when the coughs returned. Painful breaths traded for humiliation. Still, the man held the bottle until America was done, then carefully wiped the tears that were on the nations cheeks. And America could only growl the entire time.
When the man returned after placing the bottle somewhere behind the camera, he gave a small sigh. "Look at you. A former superpower. A powerful nation. Reduced to this. It must be true when they say nothing lasts forever."
"I was doing fine before you came into the picture."
"Oh please. Your government was split in half, refusing to cooperate, to work together for the people. Your economy was taking a hit…"
"My people were still alive, and I didn't have radioactive poisoning."
Smile turning smug. "They were weapons of your own creation, America. You should take responsibility for them."
"I was responsible. None of them were fired until you decided to interfere."
"Stubborn as always, I see."
"I think of it as 'holding onto my morals.' Better than being a homicidal bastard like you."
"It is exactly that attitude that brings the other nations to spite you, America. Hard-headed. Naïve. Your constant insistence of being a hero is annoying at best, hateful at worst. You interfere in other's business when you have no right. And as a result bring harm to both them and your own people."
"I was just trying to help…"
A mocking laugh. "Help? You bring down a nation's leader and completely turn over the established government. You bring war and death with your military. And for what? Freedom? Democracy? Are you sure that it is not for control? Personal gain?"
"You're wrong! I…"
"You believe that it will all work out in the end?"
Hand reaching out to grab America's chin, forcing eye contact. Amethyst against sapphire.
"You are a curious nation. Yes, there are idealists who believe that they are truly fighting for their country. For freedom in the world. Yet, there is also corruption that exists, hiding behind the mask of patriotism. Which is your true self? Or are you such a talented actor that you can play both roles?"
Shadow flitting across the blue eyes. Disappearing as quickly as it appeared. "I know I'm not perfect, but that shouldn't stop me from providing aid to those in need."
"And what if they do not desire to receive your help? You force your way in anyway. And everyone despises you for it."
Arms spread out. One step back.
"Do you realize how many people are waiting for you to fall? Do you understand how much hate is directed towards you? Enemies are waiting for you to collapse. Allies are hoping you will be taken down a notch. Both blame you for the current state of the world economy, at least to some extent. The nuclear attacks? They think you've finally lost it and are keeping their distance. Your people need help, but you have been abandoned! No one is willing to be your hero!"
Throughout the tirade, America's head continued to bend forward, as if the weight of the accusations were crushing him. There was some truth in the man's words, or at least it wasn't a complete fabrication. But the vehemence, the emotion, increased the strength of the charges.
So imagine their surprise when America lifted his head again, a small smile on his face.
"You done?
He straightened up in the chair and stared at the surprised man.
"I'll admit that I've made mistakes in the past. I'll also agree that many of the nations around the world are unhappy with me. But I can always make up for it. Sure, scars will remain, but wounds will be healed and relationships will be repaired. The other nations have made similar mistakes in the past, but they managed to move forward. So I don't see why I can't do the same."
Blink of surprise. But a quick return of the mask. "See, America. You haven't lost your manners. Do you now understand how pleasant it is to speak without profanity in every other sentence?"
"Don't push it. You're still a bastard."
"I have to admit that I am glad you did not break from that attempt. I was afraid that you would fall into despair when you realized that no one was looking to help you. It would have been too easy. Too boring."
"Yeah, so try harder."
Widened grin. Spark of interest. "Then prepare yourself, America. You are strong, but there is a flaw within you. In all of the nations."
He turned around, eyes staring up. "Technology has truly advanced in a very short amount of time. Today, over half the world relies on it to get through the day. Whether it be to travel, to work, to secure food. Technology and electricity are necessary for many people to survive. Do you agree?"
"Am I not supposed to? What's your point?"
"Imagine the consequences if technology was absent. If electricity stopped working. If all communication was non-existent. What would happen?"
Any color left was drained from America's face as the questions ran through his mind. A breathless whisper. "You can't do that."
"What if I can? A snap of my fingers is all it takes. Like this." Fingers sliding, producing a sound like a crack of thunder. "How many people are in your hospitals, America? How many people rely on machines to keep their frail existence in this pathetic world?"
Breaking of metal. Ripping of rope. Releasing of restrained. The man turned as hands wrapped around his neck, as he was pushed to the hard ground. A heavy thud echoed through the room as America's weight crushed onto the man's chest. Blood flowed from his wrists, his ankles, cuts that were formed when he broke from his binds. Some of the rope remained coiled around his body, part of it moving down his arms.
Pupils so dilated that there was no trace of blue. Cold. Black. Feral. Yet, also filled with terror. An animalistic snarl came out of America's mouth as he strengthened his hold on the neck. Tightening the respiratory tract. Causing a gasp to come out from the man.
"Change it back! Change everything back to normal! You're fucking killing them!"
A smile in response, angering the nation.
"You think it's funny that my people are dying? I'll fucking kill you!"
A faint reply. Lack of breath.
"How… many nuclear… power plants… does your… country… have?"
Amidst the rage, confusion also entered the expression, unable to understand the question.
America stopped suddenly, eyes wide, mouth open. His body remained still, though his grip must have weakened. The man coughed, bringing oxygen into his deprived lungs.
Without warning, America's body trembled as seizures took over, toppling him to the floor. Eyes rolling back. Mouth forming silent screams as the voice fled. Rest of the body out of control. He continued to shake before it ended as abruptly as it started. Leaving his body still once more.
After catching his breath, the man pushed himself up into a sitting position. Stared at the fallen nation. And burst into a maniacal laughter that bounced back and forth from the walls, ripping through both the computer and laptop speakers. An eerie sound that sent shivers down their spines. Inhumane. Insane. It eventually died down to small chuckles, the sound continually vibrating in the air as the man lifted America off the ground and placed him back in the chair.
There was no resistance, the body moving wherever it was taken. The normally bright, sapphire eyes were now dull. Void of recognition. Void of life. They stared off. Unseeing. Uncomprehending.
The man leaned over and spoke softly, though his words still reflected off the walls and into the camera's microphone.
"Do you feel your people dying? Do you hear their cries for salvation? Are you feeling the explosion of each reactor? Are you deteriorating along with the rest of your country?"
Silence was the reply. The nation unaware of everything but his own pain.
He never stopped smiling. Even when he closed America's eyes so it looked like he was asleep. Even when he went back to his viewers.
"There you have it. A terrifying weakness, no? Enough to bring down the great America. Oh, do not forget that the rest of you have the same weakness. That this could happen to any of you. Alas, the star has fallen asleep once more, so I believe we will skip to intermission."
Another bow. "Take a good rest, for when the show resumes all that is left will be the final act. As a special treat, I will hold a Q and A session at the very beginning. One question for each nation, so think hard! Until then."
Black screen. Ended stream.
After a few minutes, England got up from his seat and proceeded to destroy every piece of furniture in the room, while France did nothing but watch with dazed eyes.
A/N: For those who are curious, go to Wikipedia and search "Nuclear power in the United States." You'll find a map of the (active) plants, or operating reactors, that are currently in the U.S. I checked out the map on the official NRC website, and the map on Wiki was pretty much the same. Or at least enough to show the extent of damage that was done in this chapter...which also included the destruction of decommissioning reactors too...which aren't on the Wiki map...
On another note, 151 proof alcohol is flammable. And burns like the lakes of Hell when it goes down your throat.