CHAPTER TWO – Of Friendships and Alliances

Almost immediately, Japan rose from his seat, strode to Muscovites and bowed. "Hai," he said, "May the Muscovite Empire prosper." The Muscovites took Japan's hand and shook it, looking into his eyes with earnest joy.

"Thank you. Thank you so much! You should all be like Japan. Who here is like Japan and wants to see the Muscovite Empire prosper?"

England's tongue seemed to be made of lead. He was rendered dumb by the bizarre horrors unfolding before them. The dominant, condescending voice in his head was chiding him, of course Japan would be the first to join the offensive, but on some level, he felt the betrayal keenly. There was a part of him that still felt a flush of comforting warmth whenever he caught sight of Japan gazing serenely into the distance, and that part now cried out in outrage. The other nations in the room also stayed silent, and Muscovites' face began to fall. He bit his meaty bottom lip, causing the pigment to drain out of it. "No one? That's sad."

Australia fell to her knees. "I surrender," she gasped. England furrowed his brow, his lip curling. You damned traitor. You were willing to fight Russia when Japan was on our side in the Religion Wars, weren't you? The disgust prompted his tongue; he knew exactly what his answer to the Muscovites was.

"I don't," he said, "You piece of anarchist shit."

And just like that, war was declared. It was not, England thought sadly, the first World Meeting to result in such circumstances.

June, 2232

"He gave you Hell, didn't he?" There was shuffling and furniture squeaking and French cursing behind England's back. He heard France come hobbling up behind him before he smelt him, and he smelt the blood before he saw him, wine-sweet on France. He felt a rough hand brush his shoulder. Relief swamped him.

"Oui, Angleterre. Il est... Il est devenu un monstre. Trop horrible..." France's voice was thick, thick with something that England was not sure enough of to call tears. He sounded, as far as England could tell, more than merely physically defeated. A shot of panic sizzled through him; if France had had some kind of breakdown… It's my fault, a shrill voice rang out inside England's head, though he tried to ignore it, I let him go. It's my fault...

From the moment that the Muscovites asked to become one – from the moment that he asked anything, England had been sure that he would fight until he received the appropriate answer. It would have been easier if everyone had banded together in that moment, been able to crush the rising conflict that came from East Europe. It would have been so much easier to bear the situation if Japan had not immediately sided with the attacker, and, of course, if Australia had not backed down as soon as she fell under threat. England ground his teeth in irritation. Now the whole problem rested on the shoulders of Europe and therefore, by default, on the shoulders of France and England.

"This will not work," England muttered. He wasn't sure if France could hear him or not. The hand had been withdrawn. "It is simply Europe pitted against Asia. Japan has a lot of resources, and now those are available to the Muscovites. Iraq's not going to help anyone out, and Muscovites knows better than to aggravate him. Half of Oceania has already surrendered. We are hopelessly outnumbered."

The plan to change this situation had failed. It went like this; France would entreat the remaining European nations to stand up and fight the combined power of Japan and the Muscovites, while England tried his luck in Asia. The talk with India had resulted in nothing but stirred up old bitterness:

"I beg your pardon?"

"Sorry, Britain. Japan's granted me amnesty if I stay out of the situation. I'm not going to go against him, not after Wei Yao. The guy is terrifying."

"More terrifying when you realise you trusted him mistakenly. Don't be a fool, India."

"Fool? I'm in a better economic state than you, Britain. Watch your tone."

"You're a coward."

"No, I'm not. I'm not your colony anymore. I'm not obliged to fight for you."

England didn't bother going through the tedious and convoluted process of scheduling a meeting with Iraq. He didn't need to see him to know he wouldn't care if Muscovites flattened all of Western Europe. It would probably make him happier.

The Europeans who would fight were weak and few – France, England, Italy, Edelheim, Baltica and Poland. Italy and Edelheim were political messes, all sense of order and leadership thinned out by growing populations and depleting resources. Poland and Baltica had never been strong in battle, their combined military forces still a fraction of England's alone. They needed help desperately, so France sought it out by personally visiting each European state which hadn't publicised a stand. Naturally, first was Switzerland, who declined immediately.

"I will not fight for other people," he had said, stoutly. "When the Muscovites attack, I will defend my country with all my might." It was an unsuccessful trip, but at least France had come out unscathed. He wished Switzerland luck and walked away.

France was a very smart person. No one could doubt that. Only he could have thought that if such a changed and ruined nation like Muscovites was able to come out in the open and speak to everyone else – then why couldn't another?

"I am going to contact Torro," he had said. England did not argue. It could not do any harm; if Torro was unwilling to side with them, then he definitely would not side with the Muscovites. France left the building, and England did not hear from him for a week.

He told himself not to worry, that France was a keen negotiator, he could still be with Torro, convincing him. But then England received a telegram, sent from somewhere around where Belgium used to be:

ENGLAND PLAN FAILED STOP TORRO ATTACKED STOP GOT CHASED TO BELGIUM STOP

NEED HELP URGENTLY STOP

England wasted no time. In less than a day, France was returned to his country and the meeting house, bruised, scratched and disappointed. England interrogated, as he tended to his wounds.

"Why did he attack? Switzerland didn't feel the need."

France winced. "He did not trust me. He immediately suspected – A-Ow! That we were planning to invade after winning him over. He declined the offer, called me a heathen... 'I would rather be trampled beneath the hooves of God than ally with the likes of you!' We forget the change – he is not who he used to be." He hissed as England pressed down on the mass of cotton wool covering a large gash on France's shoulder. You mean, England did not say, You forget the change. He could see it in his mind's eye: France reaching his arms to Torro in supplication, his eyes widening in horror as Torro raised a sword, turning to run, but not fast enough before a flash of pain appeared in his shoulder, hearing the words "Arrest the heathen!"

"Give up on Torro. In fact, give up on Europe. They were all at the meeting, so they all saw the Muscovites. We can't do more than is possible." France looked at him, and England's stomach clenched as he saw that his eyes were red with tears.

"Non," he whispered. "I will go to him again. Torro is a vicious fighter, but I do not want to see him crushed by God. Surely you don't – you were familiar with him long ago, am I right?"

England's mind flashed to an image of a ruthless pirate, one who ruled the seas and ate the finest food – proudly showing off an Armada that would never see the light of day on England's shores. They had never been allies, or if they had, they'd never been friends. Still…

"Yes," England said, getting up from his chair, and helping France to do likewise. "But I honestly can't say that I care about what happens to him now. And I give my strongest advice to not return to him. I know that you two were friends, perhaps, in times gone by, but you aren't now. You have to remember that." There was a pause, after which England said quietly, "You want to save him."

France gave no response, but he turned his head away from England very quickly. England sighed, placing an awkward hand on France's back. "It's admirable. Really, it is. But… Sometimes, if they're this far gone… It's better for everyone if you forget about them." He winced, painfully aware of how harsh it sounded. But France needed to hear this.

"Will you try and stop me from going back?"

"I won't force you to stay. You are free to do as you wish, but don't expect me to bail you out again. You were warned this time."

The next day France was gone already, and England immediately regretted his words. This time he did not return for a month, but no telegram arrived.

He was back now. England glanced away from his work, to see the Frenchman asleep on the sofa. He was breathing through his nose, the air whistling on its way in. There were too many wounds on his body to count, and his hand trembled where it lay on his stomach. England felt an ache in his chest, and decided that when he was putting France back together again, he would not question what happened in that month. He turned his attention to what he was working on.

They still needed allies. France had been unsuccessful in finding any in Europe – and England was by no means letting him out to try again – so why not seek them elsewhere? Oceania was simply too far away, and Asia was already all on the Muscovites' side... But there were still the Americas.

It was risky. It went against everything that the two nations had discussed, and it was certainly the wrong time to do it – didn't Japan say that they were dealing with an uprising? – but it was necessary. England added the finishing touches to his letter.

Dear Panem –

You are most likely unaware of all events taking place in the rest of the world. That is understandable, and I know it will be difficult for you to read this, but you must. The Muscovites have declared war on all who don't agree to become part of their empire, and Japan has sided with them. I, France and most of Europe are not enough. We need help.

You know how difficult it can be to deal with the Muscovites. He will most likely contact you himself. I don't know if he will invade you or not, but you can't simply stay out of this war forever. If you do decide to join, then I beseech that you ally with Europe. Not for my sake, yours, or old times' sake – but for the sake of the world. Please.

I have heard from Japan that you are dealing with rebellion right now. I understand if it is difficult for you to contact us immediately, but when you can, please respond, just this once. Fighting Japan and Asia will be difficult for all of us.

You heard me say this when I last saw you, before you shut yourself off from the rest of the world. Please come back to us, America.

Yours sincerely,

The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland – represented by England

There came a light snore from behind England. He looked at the sofa, and gave a wry smile. France wanted to contact lost friends and throw himself into physical and emotional danger? Well, two can play at that game. England gave one last look at his ally, before draping a blanket over him and leaving the house to post his letter.