The cool breeze was a refreshing welcome, especially after spending hours in that room. He was getting tired of these meetings, these worthless gatherings of the world nations. In the past few months, nothing had been accomplished, and frankly, he doubted that any real conclusions would be made.
Oh but it's necessary, they would cry, to figure out what to do since the country known as "America" no longer exists.
Feet pausing their steps. Hands clenching into fists. Emotions held in check.
Memories threatened to overtake his mind, his heart aching from the resulting barrage. No matter how much time passed, he knew that the wounds left behind would not heal. After the last video, satellites were finally able to get pictures of America. They were expecting immense damage, but nothing prepared the G8 members for the truth.
Every city was destroyed. Entire buildings were missing at sites where the missiles actually landed. The rest of the landscape showed the destructive aftermath through crumbling infrastructures.
Every green life had been converted to unyielding sand. All vegetation was wiped out, and along with it the wildlife. The satellites didn't pick up movements anywhere in the desolate wasteland. Not surprising, since it was highly improbable that anything could survive the onslaught of more than three hundred nuclear weapons.
Nowhere to run. No vehicle to take them to safety. Even if the higher officials managed to get into their underground bunkers, it was only a matter of time before they succumb to the radiation poisoning.
He stared into the overcast sky. Watching clouds that were heavy with the soon to fall rain.
Yes, radiation. The sole reason no nation was willing to send anyone to check the damage firsthand. Entering that forsaken land would be sending them to hell. And no one wanted to take that risk.
There was a shocking revelation, though. The radiation didn't diffuse through the air like it normally does. Canada and Mexico served as evidence to this fact, for neither of them had a single trace within their countries. It was as if everything that happened in America stayed within the borders.
A mixed blessing for the adjacent lands.
But he knew that Canada was suffering all the same. The death of his brother had hit the young nation hard. Almost sent him careening off the edge of sanity. The only thing that stopped him was the cries for help from the refugees, those who had been out of the country during the fated three days. Vacation, business, military affairs. No matter the reason, there was a small number of Americans who were lucky enough to avoid death's call. Then again, maybe it wasn't so lucky, since many had lost their families.
And all had lost a place to call home.
Their cries reached Canada, who opened his country to the refugees. According to him, it was the least he could do for his deceased brother. A valiant choice for the sake of a memory.
The other nations never found out about the truth behind the unexplainable actions. How could the G8 members give an explanation when they too were uncertain about the entire event? Even if they wanted to reveal everything, there was no evidence to back their story.
They had learned that the first CD with the clip had disappeared without a trace. The file had also been deleted from their computers. The last two videos were live, and there was no time to record either of them. The only thing they could use was the tablet, but even that turned to be useless because it had stopped functioning. And all they were left with was a worthless conglomeration of electrical parts.
So they decided to keep quiet and feign ignorance while staying alert, watching for signs of the demon's return…
"Are you going to just stand there staring at the sky? You'll risk getting wet, England."
He slowly turned around, tired eyes resting on the other nation. "It doesn't matter, France. I'm used to the rain."
"Ah, you and your dreary, English weather. Come, let us find shelter before the heavens pour their tears onto the earth."
"I'm not going back in there."
"I don't want to either. I'm tired of hearing them talk in circles."
For that was all they did during the meetings. The nations had no idea how to proceed, how to deal with this loss. It was true that many had hated America, had wanted America to fall. But none imagined that America could be completely removed from this world. His death meant that there was a gaping hole left in the world's economy. A sudden break in international trade. They couldn't even enter the country to take advantage of the its resources.
No, this wasn't something that could be fixed with mere negotiations…
"The only thing we can do is move on."
"So true, England. We can't just sit around and sulk forever, can we?"
"No, we need to stay alert and learn from this disaster, so if we ever see that demon again…"
"We won't go down without a fight."
England nodded and swallowed thickly, desperate to steady his voice for his question. "Do you…do you think he's in a better place?"
France paused before giving a small smile. "I think he's getting along well, wherever he is. Though I'm sure he's annoying the people around him with his talks of hamburgers and heroes."
"Knowing that idiot, I wouldn't be surprised." Feet slowly moving away, shoulders still heavy. "France, I think I need some time alone."
"All right, but don't overdo it this time. I'm not coming to pick up your drunk self this time."
"As if I wanted you to."
Still, he gave a grateful wave to the watching nation and wandered down the streets. Hoping to find reprise from the constant pain that lingered within his heart.
"Are you certain that you should be moving about so soon?"
Hint of worry in both voice and eyes.
All ignored, as attention was focused on the two nations below.
"Spare me the pity. I'm not so weak that I can't stand with my own strength."
"I only worry since we're so high up." He stepped off the ledge, feet landing on the cold roof. "We wouldn't want you falling to your death."
"As if I'd die from such a short fall." Nevertheless, moving back to safety. Eyes never leaving the scene on the ground. "So, these are the nations you mentioned…"
"Yes…surprising, are they not?"
"It looks like you've been causing a lot of mischief. That's very unlike you."
"What can I say? I've changed since you saw me last."
Sly smirk. "Does that mean I have to question your loyalty to me, too?"
Ace immediately dropped to the floor. Kneeling on his left knee. Bowing his head. Left arm hanging loosely. Right arm resting on his right knee. A position of submission.
"You need to do no such thing. I have sworn my loyalty, my life, to you on that fateful day. I will offer my services forever, my King."
He looked at the two nations a little longer before finally regarding the kneeling man and folding his arms. Navy blue trench coat rippling as he stepped back slightly. Head tilting up as he looked down with unreadable eyes.
"Will you follow me, knowing that my path will involve even more death and pain in this world?"
"I will never take back my words, not even if death comes to claim this unworthy soul. I only ask that you would keep me at your side, like you have done in the past."
"I have to say that I pity any and all who will get caught in my plans. The nations of this world will soon wish to choose hell over what is to come." A hint of madness glinting in his eyes. "Even you might wish to leave while you still can."
"If my Master is unsatisfied with me, then I will remove myself from your presence."
"…" Eyes averting to the side. A sigh of resignation. "Enough, rise from the ground. You know as well as I do that I can't lose you." He gave an approving smirk to his eternal servant and turned his attention back to the nations. "Never betray me, my ace."
Standing back up, Ace also watched England walking away from France. Before returning the smirk with a genuine smile.
"It will be as you command, my King."
A/N: Now that we've come to the end, a couple of notes about this story.
1. I wrote this about a year ago and changed a few parts before I uploaded. Hence the occasional discrepancies of writing styles (maybe...)
2. The story's original purpose was to make America suffer (I torture my favorite characters...yes I know I'm sadistic [ㅎㅈㅎ]). Also, I wanted to test my angst writing, and I can't say whether I'm satisfied or not...Maybe I should've been more horrible.
3. Another purpose of the story was to unleash my wild child. Always wanted to create a character that would spread chaos and destruction (in other words, write a character that people will hate...without the character being a female in a romantic relationship with her favorite character...I'll let you guess how I feel about Mary Sues)
4. This seemingly plotless story is actually connected to another idea I've had for a long time (who knew?), but have yet to finish writing. I've thrown a couple of hints within the chapters that suggest the theme (hope it wasn't too hard). I'm still deciding whether I want to write it out, and this story was a sort of test run to gauge the interest level. But as is, this story (APR) is complete.
fullmoonwolf950; ItalyGirl58; LunaWing118; animefairi; love live life; Warrior Chickenz; hungarysfryingpan; Lady Ri of Cherith; machetecat; Arisu Tsuranu; DestinyBlade : you guys are awesome. Your reviews definitely motivated me to update faster than I usually do. Thanks for leaving feedback.
To the subscribers and favoriters (is that a word?): Thanks for your support.
That said, I will still accept comments, feedback, constructive criticisms, etc. Also, I'll give a sort of sneak peak of what could be written. Let me know what you think about my potential story. Until then~
Russia could only stare at the one sitting in the armchair.
At the one who should not be here.
The events from the past year were still in his mind. He remembered how each of the G8 members had chosen to move on. So how was he supposed to respond to those sapphire eyes in front of him?
The metal pipe slipped from his hand and dropped to the ground as the two stared at each other. Finally, Russia managed to find his voice.
"A...America?"
"Hello, Russia."
"One person's craziness is another person's reality."
-Tim Burton