They weren't sure how to proceed, so none dared to ask another question rashly. A vast amount of information, yet restrained with limited access. The nations around the table realized that they needed to use good judgment when choosing their questions, when picking their words. For a vague question will only bring vague answers. At the same time, they didn't want to spend too much time trying to be economical.
Finally, Germany cleared his throat. "So…Ace…where is your current location?"
"Hm? The dim lighting, grainy walls, and constant echoes are not enough hints?" Ace chuckled when he saw the confusion on their faces. "I suppose I am being unreasonable, since you believe that all communication has been cut off here…What? Do I have to put it bluntly? I…we are in Washington D.C., well, specifically we are under D.C."
"There must be some mistake."
"I am afraid not, Germany. The basement of the Pentagon is basically a catacomb. A maze with a countless number of rooms. A death trap for fools who enter ignorantly. I merely borrowed one of the empty rooms for the show."
"You're lying! How is this video chat taking place when every other attempt of communication failed?"
Smug smile. "No need to get so worked up, Canada. I thought you were tired of dealing with the arrogant, self-centered America. The one who overshadowed you. The one who treated you like a lackey. Are you not happy that you are freed from his stupidity?"
"I'm the only one who can say that about him, bastard."
Ace shrugged. "Who knew that blood was so thick? However, I speak the truth about our location, even if it seems impossible. Let's just say that it is within my power to enable and disable things as I see fit. Which means we can have this session while everyone else is missing out from the fun."
"Demented freak."
It was no longer a surprise that laughter was Ace's response. "Who wants to ask the fourth question? And yes, I counted Canada's as one."
Canada would have protested, but his brain was too busy processing the new information. Too busy trying to grasp the seemingly endless amount of Ace's abilities. What was truly terrifying was that nobody knew where these powers came from, though it seemed too supernatural, too unearthly.
But it was clear that Ace was keeping them in the dark.
Four questions left…
"Here's a question for you. Are you doing all this for your own benefit? Because it's hard to imagine someone of your caliber bending to another's will."
With a small frown, Ace locked eyes with Russia, who goaded him with a smile. They continued to stare each other down, completely ignoring the other nations. Until Ace seemed to break away from his thoughts.
"Another difficult question. I suppose I will admit that there are selfish motives on my part. But know this. Every single action. Every single decision. They are all for a higher being than me. I am merely a tool, a willing servant to my Master."
Purple eyes moving across the room. Frown turning into a sneer.
"I do not expect any of you to understand my motivations. You who work for your own interests. You who have too much pride to work under another's orders. Alliances? Partnerships? Do not make me laugh. Step on or get trampled. Eat or be eaten. This is the mentality of this world!"
He reached over and grabbed a fistful of America's hair. Slammed the head onto the table. Sound of splintering wood resounding at contact. Elongated cracks cutting through the wood. Not once did Ace look over, his blazing eyes fixed on the other nations.
"Can you say that you are honestly worried for America? Are you not more worried about yourselves? About what might happen if you are the next target? Do you not wonder what will happen to yourselves if America falls?"
Accusations that hit too close for comfort. None could deny what he said, for deep down each nation had thought about those questions. Of course they had worried about their own countries, their own citizens, their own future. Facing such an enemy, no one at the table could admit truthfully that they were only concerned about America.
Ace left them brooding over his recent questions, and finally noticed the result of his outburst. Loosening his grip, he moved America's head back into its former position. A small cut had formed near the right eye, the blood leaving a thin trail as it traveled down the gaunt cheek. With a soft sigh, he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and began to clean the injury, which didn't take too long. The flow stopped as soon as he applied a bit of pressure, suggesting that America had little blood to spare.
Yet, even with the abuse, America remained in the sleep-like state. Oblivious to his surroundings.
With another sigh, Ace returned his attention to his audience. "My apologies for the uncontrolled display. I promise to use more care when I answer the remaining questions."
"Um…excuse me but…why are you only attacking America? What did he do to you?"
"That was two questions, Italy. But to make up for my deplorable actions, I will combine them as one."
Shifting into a more comfortable position. Folding of arms.
"America has not done anything to me. In fact, he did not know who I was until a month ago. So why did I choose him? Maybe it was a whim. Maybe it was due to his position as a superpower. Maybe I chose him because the world was unsatisfied with his conduct."
Sudden burst of laughter. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Italy. I will stop making these silly excuses."
Arrogant smirk. Mischievous eyes. "I am causing trouble for America and only America because he caught my interest. Let's just leave it at that."
He shifted his glance to the two nations who had yet to speak. "We still have two questions left. England…France…which of you wants to go first?"
"Well, since it looks like England is still thinking, I'll go next." Straightening in the chair. Crossing arms. "Something has been bothering me since the very beginning. How exactly did you discover our existence, Ace? Normal humans aren't aware of our identities. Though there are some exceptions, such as our bosses. But you gave no implications of having such connections with any nation in the world."
Smile given in fake courtesy. "Are you always this perceptive, France?"
France returned the gesture. "When you live as long as I have, you learn to notice even the smallest things."
"Perhaps there is some truth in your words. Yes, it is true that the average human cannot discern between you nations and the rest of the population. However, I had certain clues that helped me." A soft chuckle. "And it is just as you say, France. If you live long enough, you tend to pick up the little details and piece them together to form the whole picture."
It was a subtle suggestion, but one that required serious contemplation. From what they gathered from this answer, every single nation confirmed that they weren't dealing with a normal human. If he was human at all. No, he seemed more like a demon wearing the skin of a human. A deceptive monster bent on bringing America's demise. And though he implied the longevity of his life far exceeded the human lifespan, he kept his actual age out of their reach.
Just what was this devil hiding behind his smile?
"And last but certainly not least, we have England's question to consider. So, what would you like to ask? So far, you know that my name is Ace. That I am keeping America under the Pentagon. That I have the power to manipulate the environment for my purposes. That everything I do is for the sake of my Master. That I chose to harass America because he caught my attention. And that I know of your existences because of perception and experience."
"We also know that you're a two-faced bastard with serious issues involving your sanity."
No attempt to refute the comment. "I am sure you have heard the saying 'we are all mad here'?"
"You should crawl back down the rabbit hole and stay in your Wonderland. We don't want to have any part in your sick fantasies."
"Oh, but you are already caught in the threads of fate, every single one of you. Struggling for freedom will only tighten the bindings."
Emerald eyes hardened. The look he gave Ace would have caused any other being to tremble from the pure hatred, the darkening aura.
"Are you going to kill America?"
Ace's eyes widened, momentarily taken aback. However, he immediately let out a laugh while his body trembled as he tried to control himself, as his eyes shut in mirth.
"Oh England, out of all the questions, I love yours the most. So blunt…" Continued chuckling that caused the viewers to stare with surprise. Except England, who didn't stop glaring at the madman.
"Talk about catching me off guard. Well, I will be frank, England. I do not know. Can a nation be killed in the first place? Oh sure, nations can fall, but there are always remnants left behind in their place."
Purple eyes landing on Germany and Italy.
"And many times, the fallen nation simply loses power, not their existence."
Purple eyes lingering over England for a few seconds before regarding the entire group.
"But what is death? Is it not the complete disappearance of an entity? No second chance? Unable to return in another form? Death is expected in humans, but nations? If there is one thing I have learned, it is this: nations...countries…these hold onto their lives with stubborn determination. So, is there any method of stopping the continuance of nation? What does it take to completely wipe out a nation?"
Ace stood up from his seat and went behind America. Hands falling onto slack shoulders. Moving slowly inward. Wrapping around the pale neck. Smile growing. Twisted enjoyment dancing in those eyes. Those dark, poisonous irises.
"Am I going to kill America?"
The atmosphere in the meeting room became intense as each nation watched with full attention. As they waited for the next move. Expressions ranged from utter rage to cool indifference. But every one of them was in fight-or-flight mode as the adrenaline rushed through their body. There wasn't much they could do since they were too far away from the actual location on the other side of the screen, yet they remained alert as Ace began to move.
Fingers tightening against skin. Pushing against the sides of the neck. Closing the trachea.
Then, the threatening gesture disappeared faster than it occurred. Ace simply released his hold, spreading his arms out in front.
"That question will be addressed in the final act. Thank you, gentlemen, for participating in this Q and A session! I hope I provided enough drama for your liking. And though I would like to continue…" Fingers gripping the disheveled hair. Pulling the head up for the nations to get a full view. "It looks like our star is finally awake."
Bleary eyes stared at them, unable to discern the situation at hand. Breathing became labored, as if it was painful to perform the simple task of filling lungs with air. Hard as it is to believe, it would have been better if America remained unconscious. Less aware of the pain, the hurt. But, slowly, his vision began to clear. And a hint of surprise came through his agonized expression as he returned the nations' stares.
"Did you have a nice sleep, America? Your friends have been waiting for the performance, but you could not even stay awake to greet them."
Whether from defiance or simply lack of strength, America kept quiet. Instead, his eyes moved across the room until he identified each of the nations present. Some continued to watch. Others broke the exchange because they were unable to look into the sapphires that were darkened with pain, hopelessness. None could accept this change from the normally shining, rebellious, arrogant America. Even when he was dealing with his declining economy, he didn't have this look of surrender. This look of defeat.
During this exchange, Ace took the time to move around the furniture, causing rough scrapings as the legs of the table slid across the rocky ground. He continued to work until only he and America was seen through the camera, though he allowed the nation to remain seated. Not that America could have stood on his feet. He looked like he could barely stay on the chair. Once everything else was cleared, Ace walked over and leaned his arm against the side of the chair. Facing his victim.
"You know, we were just talking about you…well your death to be exact. What do you make of that? Do you think it's possible for you to die?"
Still no response. America didn't even bother to look up. His attention focused on his fellow nations.
"Truthfully, it seems unlikely that you will disappear. You still have your people and your lands to keep you alive. But what would happen if you lose all that?" Hateful smirk. Mouth moving closer to his ear. "Would 'America' still exist without the foundation?"
Weight of the words crushing his spirit. Pushing down his already drowning soul.
So tired.
"America! Get a hold of yourself!" Hands slamming on the table, refusing to let Ace continue. "You can't let this bastard kill you! You're better than that!"
England…
"America, you've proved your strength before, so don't let it be any different this time!"
France…
"Brother, you never let others push you around! Kick that guy's ass!"
Canada…
"Where is the America I faced during the Cold War? He didn't give up this easily you know."
Russia…
"Don't lose to that jerk!"
Italy…
"That's right. Don't let everything you've built go to waste."
Germany…
"America, you always told me that you are a hero. You have also told me that the hero always beats the villain."
Japan…
"Exactly! You're a hero, right? Well Ace is the bad guy you have to beat!"
Said man smirked before ruffling America's hair. "Well what do you know? Looks like they are actually supporting you. And do you have anything to say, Mr. Hero?"
You guys…
Tears flowed down his face as their words, their shouts of encouragement, replayed in his mind. He was grateful. Truly he was. Yet…
A weak smile shining through the tears. A smile that held both joy and sorrow. Voice barely above a whisper.
"Thanks. But I don't think I'm fit to be a hero."
Hollow. Broken. But still appreciating their effort. They were stunned by his response, by the irreversible change brought onto the former superpower.
And Ace merely scoffed at the gaping nations. "Not even a hero can get out of this situation. My previous question still stands, gentlemen."
Eyes glinting with malice. Grin becoming predatorial.
"Would America still exist without his people? Without his fertile lands? Imagine the country being consumed by every single nuclear weapon it possesses. What would the outcome be?" A cruel chuckle. "Well, in just a few minutes we will get our answer."
"Bloody son of a bitch! You can't just launch all the nukes at once!"
"Do not underestimate me, England. I can. And I will." Pupils constricted, morphing into slits. Lips twisting into a crazed grin. "The final act will commence without interruption. So sit back. And enjoy the show."
America's throat was already raw from his previous outcries. But when he felt the impact, when he felt his cities disintegrate, when he felt his people getting wipe out, screams tore through his vocal cords. Blood leaking from his mouth as the vibrations ripped his larynx.
Convulsions overtook his body. Control over his muscles no longer present. His lands suffering from the endless explosions. The entire geography shifting because of the destruction. A heavy thud, body falling on the ground. Hands grasping disheveled hair, desperately attempting to quell the pounding, the hammering, the pressure.
Soul torn apart. Each loss of life another crack in the already shattering heart. Lucky ones didn't even recognize their deaths. Unlucky ones feeling the intense heat of the roaring flames that destroyed indiscriminately.
Vague, familiar voices in the background, but never really reaching. Never breaking through the insane laughter that echoed around him. Mocking sound the complete antithesis to his howls of agony.
No longer holding an identity. Losing self-awareness. Pain too excruciating. Pain the only thing that was left. The last thing remembered before the soul was engulfed by the waiting darkness. A sweet oblivion that took everything.
And all they could do was watch him fall. The screams fled in an instant so only Ace's laugh came through the speakers.
He too noticed the fall, but continued to laugh until his voice cracked, until his body shook from his coughing. Perhaps even aware that his own sanity was in pieces, his grip on his mind set loose. Once he regained control, Ace moved back and positioned the camera onto the still form of America to show them the extent of the damage.
Traces of blood still dripping from the mouth. Eyes closed as if in a deep slumber. Hands holding the head. Fingers entwined in the strands of hair. Body twisted into fetal position.
"Take a good look, for you have just witnessed the death of a nation. Devoid of everything that defined his existence, there should be no doubt that the personification should also disappear." Camera turned back to show only himself.
Slit eyes. Twisted smile. "But you have only yourselves to blame. You who also possess these weapons. You who also rely so heavily on technology. Every single one of you would have fallen just as easily. Never forget that."
A single hand covering the face. And when removed, a drastic change in appearance. Eyes reverted to normal. Smile turned courteous. "Alas, this brings our show to an end. Such a pity, but I have other business to attend."
A quick wave. "It was short, but it was fun. One day I hope to meet each and every one of you personally, but who knows when that will ever happen. Until then, take care of yourselves."
And in a single instant, the communication ceased, and Ace excused himself from their lives. Leaving the same way he entered: abruptly, without warning. And the nations were left staring at the empty screen.
Yet, the only image they saw was America's fallen body. The only sound they heard was the never-ending laughter of an insane man.