Prussia was the first to sprint to the door, his red eyes wide in both panic and alarm. Following him was Switzerland, closely followed by Russia as they ran to the source of the sound. As the others filed out after them, Germany quickly ordered the Italian twins and America to stay with the girl, while Japan and China stood outside the door to protect them.

Germany felt his legs turn weaker as he continued to run while cursing. He prayed nothing had happened to one of them, and that it had been a false alarm.

Stood in the centre of the room were three of the girls, standing, weapons raised, as they encircled and protected an unconscious Liechtenstein. Men and women surrounded them, guns firing towards the girls who all dodged in perfect synchronization still keeping within distance of the unconscious girl at their feet. Switzerland gave a yell of anger, gripping his own gun and yanking it from its holster as he fired bullet after bullet at his sister's attackers. Prussia's own gun rang out as it fired next to Switzerland's, and small thuds were heard of pipe hitting flesh as Russia fought towards his sisters. Germany produced his shotgun and assisted with the task, feeling sick at the idea of killing his own people. But were they really his people?

They had turned to monsters. They weren't German.

They were evil.

As the group were cleared, Hungary lifted Liechtenstein and hurried in the direction of the conference room, ignoring Prussia's scolding and lectures. Germany's eyes drifted down to her leg, to which her trousers clung to a patch that stained her clothing crimson red. He hoped his brother wouldn't see that until they arrived back, or else he'd have a raging Prussian on his hands.

He glanced back to where Switzerland hurried past him, demanding to see his sister as Russia walked slowly past, supporting a limping Ukraine and a pissed-off Belarus. She seemed unharmed, thankfully.

As they filed back into the conference room (Japan said nothing had happened while they were gone; it was all calm and safe there), Liechtenstein, Hungary and Ukraine were scooted up to the corner, where Switzerland was nursing his little sister in hopes of awakening her, and a scowling Hungary sat beside her, ignoring the Prussian's words as he harshly reprimanded her. Ukraine looked amused at the whole scene while Belarus was bandaging a shot ankle. Russia sat by and watched, his face the opposite to his sisters. It was dark, and to say the least, scary.

Germany would not want to be on the receiving end of that stare.

Italy, Rosa and Romano seemed to be bonding very well, and Germany decided he wanted to escape the drama and sit down beside them. Rosa give him a beam identical to Italy's, and Germany chuckled. Already the Italian had influenced the poor child. Next thing, she'd be running around demanding pasta. Romano had stopped writing due to lack of focus, and was now sketching something. He was never as good as his brother, but Germany decided he wasn't half-bad himself. He sketched the outlines of a girl's face, and Germany realised he was sketching Rosa. The work blossomed onto the page and Germany was stunned by the realism.

Romano was good at portraits, and Italy was talented at scenery, still-life and abstract.

"That's very good, Romano," Germany commented, wanting to compliment the Italian who despised him. He always tried to make an effort with Italy's brother; he didn't want his best friend's brother to be his enemy.

"Are you taking the piss, bastardo?!" Romano demanded.

"What? No!" Germany protested, sighing. "I honestly mean it. It looks very real."

"Hmph," Romano replied, unsure on how to respond to the German. "Thanks, I guess."

"Ve~ you look handsome when you smile Romano!" Italy commented at the small smile bis brother briefly displayed.

"Shut up, Veneziano!" Romano yelled. "I did not smile! You're crazy and hearing things, bastardo!"

Italy quickly covered Rosa's ears, shooting a look at his brother. "There's a bambina here!" Italy whined, releasing his hands from Rosa's ears after Romano had a long, curse-filled rant about how both Italy and "the potato bastard" were mocking him.

"Hey, Germany?" The young girl suddenly said, shocking the said nation at her sudden words.

"Er, ja?"

"Italy said you're his very best friend, is that true?"

"Ja."

"Will you be my friend as well?" She asked innocently.

"If you like," Germany said, awkwardly. He wasn't good with children, and he remembered hardly anything from his own childhood.

"Yay!" She cheered, hugging the Germany in one quick movement. The German stiffened, unsure of how to react.

He started to hug her back as the young girl giggled.

"So, what nation are you from, Rosa?" Germany asked in an attempt to make conversation.

"Germany, but I know English, Italian and Spanish. It's part of our training at the R.O.C.M!"

"R.O.C.M?"

"Resistance of Corrupt Mankind!"

"Oh, I see. Do you know what happened to our people?"

"Mama told me that some corrupt people turned everyone else bad, too. Papa said they gave people something called "drugs" to make them think they have to kill their own people."

"I see," Germany said, intrigued. He was about to question the girl further before she yawned, and Germany knew the young girl was tired.

"I want to meet your parents soon, ja?" Germany told the girl, making his voice as soft as possible.

"Yay! I want you all to meet Mama and Papa! They're very nice and they want to meet you, too!"

"Ve~! Sounds like fun!" Italy replied, beaming.

Then, Germany noticed something.

The Italian's usual energetic self was still there, but hidden in his amber eyes were two emotions not present in his manner.

Fear and exhaustion.

"Erm, Italy, could I speak with you outside for a minute?" Germany asked, earning a suspicious glare from Romano.

"Ve~! Sure, Germany! Fratello, would you look after the bambina for me, please?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don't take too long potatao ba-," he stopped, seeing Rosa look at him confusedly. "You potato baker." He muttered, finishing the supposed 'insult'.

Germany took Italy by the arm and walked outside the conference room, sliding shut the doors.

"Right, Italy, now tell me what's bothering you."

"Ve~! There's nothing wr-!"

"Italy," Germany said, his voice firm. "Tell me."

A sob suddenly escaped the Italian, startling Germany.

"Er, Italy what is wrong?!" Germany asked, his voice full of concern.

"It's the bambina!" He wailed.

"Go on…" Germany trailed.

"Her Mama and Papa… I don't think they're coming back, Germany…"

"Ah, I see."

A silence.

"How do you know?" Germany questioned the crying Italian.

"Because I saw them before she got to me," he whispered. "They arrived first, through a door in the cellar. They said to watch out for a small girl, and that they'd be right back. They left again, and didn't ever come back."

"… That is saddening to hear. I'm sorry, Veneziano."

The Italian hugged Germany, who hugged him back.

"We'll be okay, si?" Italy asked in a whisper.

Germany nodded, "Ofcourse we will, Italy."

"I'll look after Rosa myself, if her Mama and Papa don't come back," Italy decided, his sobs dying down to just a sniffle.

"Ja, you seem close to her."

"I don't know why, but if I saw her, or anyone else, get hurt now, I don't think I'd run away."

"Oh? Why the change?"

"Because, ve~! I want to be helpful like Germany and everyone else! So far, I've just been a hindrance! But I'll do something, Germany! You watch!"

With that, he bounded back into the conference room, his eyes suddenly alight with a new goal set in them. Germany suddenly remembered the second point, calling after him, "Get some sleep, Italy!"

"Si, Signor!"

Breathing filled the room as the nations lay, asleep, in rows on the floor. They'd all gone one night without sleep already, and everyone knew sleep was a vital part of survival. They had constructed a night-watch plan just fifteen minutes prior to the current time. On watch first were Prussia and France.

"So, how is your petite amie?"

"She's not my girlfriend," Prussia said, his voice full of agitation.

"Ohonhon, now now, Prussia, it is as obvious as day! You have feelings for this girl!"

"Shut up," he snapped at The Frenchman.

"Whatever you say, mon ami!" France chuckled, before his tone darkened. "But you need to be careful."

"Why?" Prussia questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Why are you saying this to me?! I wasn't the one who—!"

"Hush, I know that, Prussia," France continued. "It's just, if the land thing is true, and there's a chance of us coming back…"

"You're saying that there's zero chance of me returning, right?" Prussia asked bitterly.

"Non, I did not mean it that way—"

"France, chill dude. I am still awesome even though I'm not a nation anymore!"

"If you say so."

"Hell yes! I am Prussia! I'm not missing out on any of the action!"

"So, what would happen if you, theoretically speaking ofcourse, did die? What about your Mademoiselle?"

Prussia stayed in silence, opening and closing his jaw after failing to say words he knew would not make sense. "She'd be fine," Prussia concluded.

"Non, I do not think so, mon ami," France said, disagreeing.

Prussia sighed, before checking the clock.

"It's time we woke up Russia and Germany…" Prussia sighed.

"You can wake up Russia, and I will tackle the German, onhonhon!"

But neither knew that the Germany was already awake, concerned at the conversation he had just overheard.

A/N: Made a nicer lighter hearted chapter for you there, although there were still elements of drama and action. The fighting scenes will get better, honestly.

So, how's it going so far? I hope I'm doing okay. I have a tendency to ramble on too long about insignificant things. Maybe the scene of Italy with Rosa and Romano was too much? I don't know. Oh well.

Thanks for reading, mon ami~

Next chapter up either tomorrow or Sunday!~