"What do we do now?"

"Well, for starters, let's get to work on a really big heat ray." America pulled down a not-so-complex diagram. "Then we aim it Russia's place where General Winter is and blast 'em!"

Britain rubbed his forehead. You bloody git. "You know, I wouldn't go with you on that." He leered at the bespectacled nation. Besides your ideas are one of the worst I've ever come across. They always are! You really never learn, do you, America. How is a childish fantasy such as a sun cannon or whatever is going to… help… defeat…

There was a glint in his eye. "Oh God…" he muttered.

"What is it?" France asked.

"Probably some wacko idea of his," America replied stuffing a hamburger into his mouth.

"No. No! That's probably it. America, you're right!"

The remains of a patty plopped onto the table. "What?"

"Britain, are you sure you are feeling well?" Britain snapped France's hand away.

"A super weapon that causes a change in the weather, be it by inducing heat or altering the particles in the atmosphere, would definitely put a wedge into General Winter's plans."

France got the idea. "And stop him for good. Un peu mon neveu! That is indeed a brilliant idea, America."

"Hah! I knew I was right." He paused, scratching his head. "So how do you suppose we make one?"

Britain threw an empty bottle at his former subordinate. America ducked laughing. "You're the one who came up with the bloody idea! You should at least have some initiative as to how we're going to do it."

"Well, we could borrow some of Japan's technology."

America beamed. "Good idea! Japan and I have been getting along pretty well lately so I guess he wouldn't mind if we borrowed some of his stuff."

"Considering the current situation," Britain scoffed fixing his tie. "he would probably lend it to us without hesitation."

The bar doors swung open. Germany and Prussia shocked everyone with their appearance—visibly trembling in ragged winter uniform of their respective soldiers. Both showed signs of combat. And both headed to the bar for a well-deserved (thirst-induced) round of beer.

"I'm surprised you're still here," Prussia remarked off-handedly, catching his filled mug. Germany was already making a long pull on his.

"What happened to you?" Hungary asked.

"We lost Scandinavia," Germany replied flatly. He set the half-empty mug down. "Denmark stayed behind with Norway when we evacuated. We tried to establish contact with him but we never received a reply." He didn't need to say anymore.

"So," Austria concluded from the fireplace, "General Winter is invading the whole world. Is that it?"

"Ja. That is it," Prussia wearily affirmed. He was too tired to even show his antagonism to the aristocrat. He made another pull, effectively emptying his glass.

"Italy was right," Hungary mumbled.

Germany's head snapped up. "Italy's here?"

"Igen. He's over by the fireplace… sleeping." She accompanied Prussia's younger brother to the couch just to assure him that his closest non-related ally was alright. Austria was crouched by the fireplace keeping it alive, a sack of wood beside him.

"So what did he say?" Germany asked, turning to Hungary.

"A lot of things." She relayed Italy's testimony to the taller nation. When she was done, he rubbed his chin and stared into the fire.

"I am terribly sorry but I am having trouble right now!" Japan had to raise his voice in order to be heard. The noise in the background was loud enough.

"What do you mean?"

"America, General Winter is also invading Asia! His troops are at our shores and we cannot hold them off for much longer!"

"How did he get troops?"

"I do not exactly know! They just rose from the water like restless spirits and began converging on our cities! We are also beset by a mighty blizzard and we cannot fully concentrate on our fronts!"

"Well don't you worry, Japan. I've got you covered." The Asian nation didn't even know whether or not the statement would pull through.

Britain tapped his shoulder. "America, is Japan alright?" France was already laying down the groundwork with his people.

America clasped his palm over the receiver. "He's fine. We just need to send in our militaries to help him stop the undead invasion at his place."

"WHAT!"

"No biggy, right?"

God, I will rip your thumb off, you bloody git!

China seethed. Damn them!

"Sir, they've penetrated our right flank!"

Not far off, the east of the Great Wall was swarmed by ice-covered minions. He could see some of his own soldiers fighting against themselves. Well, actually the living soldiers against the dead ones.

"Sir, how come we do not have air support?" a wounded infantryman demanded.

"The blizzard is too strong! And we cannot risk destroying such a wonder!"

China could hear the young man sneer but he did not reprimand him. He couldn't blame him anyway. He turned to the face the opposing force. Strangely enough he could hear someone scream beside him and—

China was on the ground. Who did that? He looked up to see the same infantryman, now with an arrow deep into his chest.

"Jiàn!"

The nation looked up to see dots in the sky. The dots lengthened themselves and rained down upon them in the form of flaming arrows. China picked up the young man's corpse and held it over his body, rushing towards the nearest tower along with the rest of his troops.

He could feel the impact of the projectiles peck his side. Cāo! Something warm scratched his thigh.

He dropped the body and hurled himself in the nearest tower.

"Are you okay, sir?"

"I am fine." He looked outside. They're climbing up! The arrows just kept falling. "Tell the rest of the squadrons to hole up at the towers! We will hold this until the arrows stop falling. Then we push them off."

"Shì de, xiān shēng!"

The nation made a feel for the burn on his thigh. It stung but it was not much. The Era of Warring States was much worse. He watched the soldiers board up the windows to his right. A young conscript assembled his radio.

"Sir!" he called a minute later. "The Jinshanling section has been compromised!"

The senior officer looked to the nation with weary eyes. China returned with his beaming with fiery determination.

We are not going to lose the Wall!

Japan stumbled back, allowing himself to be dragged away by one of the special ops soldiers. The middle-aged man kept on despite the heavy cut on his lower abdomen. The nation found some footing and allowed himself to be lifted upward.

"You must not strain yourself!"

The two fell behind a gazebo. Musket balls riveted off the concrete columns. "Please, allow me the honor."

"But your stomach—"

"Please, sir!" There was a familiar flame in the man's eyes. "Let me. There was a story passed down in our family generation of our patriarch saving a region that would soon become a nation. He dragged the wounded stranger into a gazebo and gave his last breath defending him."

Japan suffered a brainwave. The samurai who dragged me out of the battlefield… was… his ancestor? It has to be! "Sengoku?"

"Hai." The man grinned. It was his last. He fell into the nations' arms motionless, an arrow angled into his spine. More came flying inside. Japan was quick to react and carried the lifeless body into the nearby house, quick to evade the hail of arrows, bullets, and spears.

"I am glad to have given the honor," he whispered back into the corpse's ear. He lay the body down, caring not to wipe the blood off his clothes. With a brush of his hand, the man's eyes slid shut.

Outside, a group of former swordsmen drew their worn blades. What was left of their faces was covered by the helmets they wore and the snow that painted the rest of their decayed bodies with specs of white.