"It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday, everybody's lookin' forward-"

*BANG BANG BANG*

Shut up, rebecca black. So now, where were we?
ah yeah, the story. here's the new chapter! author rant at the end, and i will warn you now because it will be a long one ._.

anohow, sit back und...

ENJOY

Feliciano didn't feel really good.

After breakfast, the gang had started an 'epic soccer showdown', like Alfred and Gilbert would put it. It was Team Awesome versus Team Hero, and Yao was the referee, saying he was too old to play games like soccer. Arthur and Berwald had gone to the medical room, and the Brit probably was going to try and fix the Swede's eyes, finally. Lukas had proposed to assist, but Arthur had refused. He had to do this 'alone', for reasons unknown. "Probably British-ass pride." Alfred shrugged.

Anyway, as Team Awesome was leading the game (7-4) Ludwig noticed that the small Italian stumbled quite a few times over his own feet. He always managed to catch himself in time before face-firsting the ground, but still, he didn't look so good.

Ludwig was suddenly reminded of Feliciano's hand, and the fact he had just cured Gilbert, and… Matthew (he had problems remembering the American's twin's name, somehow).

After the umpteenth time Feliciano stumbled, Ludwig caught him before he could fall.

"Watch out, Feli."

Feliciano laughed nervously, standing up again. "Ve! Hehehe, sorry, Ludd! I'm just clumsy, and a bit tired, I guess…"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "'Ludd'…?"

The Italian smiled. "Yes! It's shorter for Ludwig, and sounds cuter!"

The blond blinked, and then shook his head, not believing what he had just heard. Many people had had many adjectives to call him, but none of them had ever been 'cute'. "You look awful, Feliciano. I think you should get checked by Arthur again."

"Ve…but what about the game?" Feliciano pouted.

Ludwig started pushing the Italian in the medical's room direction. "The game can carry on without us. Hey Jones! We're leaving, Feliciano needs to rest!"

"Sure thing dude! Feli, sleep well okay? You deserve it, bro!" the American waved them goodbye, before resuming the game.

The two of them got to the medical room, but saw the curtain was closed. Lacking any kind of doors, the only thing that could provide at least a bit of privacy was a curtain. So Ludwig politely called out (knocking obviously not being possible). "Hey, Arthur?"

At the same moment, the curtain was raised, and Berwald stepped out. He looked surprised to see them.

Wait.

He could see again!

Feliciano clapped his hands. "Berwald! You can see again!"

The Swede nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching (=smiling). Indeed, behind a pair of miraculously restored glasses, shone a pair of equally miraculously restored eyes. The icy blue orbs were back to normal, and apparently the eyesight was as well. The only difference was that two thin scar lines were running horizontally over from one ear to the other, passing over the eyelids and the bridge of his nose. "Hn, ja. Arth'r m'naged t' restore th'm, th'nkfully…!"

Feliciano improvised a happy dance with the Swede. "Yay yay yay! I'm so happy right now!"
Ludwig stood a bit aside, arms folded, nodding and smiling as well. "Mein Gott, it's almost like a miracle, Berwald…! Congratulations for your recovery…!"

"Ve, ve, ve…! Oh!" the Italian suddenly looked like he had remembered something. "You should tell the others! Most of all, Tino!"

Berwald nodded, mouth corners twitching again. And did he blush slightly at the mention of Tino's name? "Of c'urse. I'm g'ing…!"

The Swede left, and Feliciano turned to look at Ludwig. "Aren't you happy too? He can see again! Now Lukas can stop blaming himself!"

The German blinked. Had Feliciano noticed the Norwegian's attitude…? Oh well. "Yes, of course I'm happy for him. I do not know what I would do if I suddenly became blind. I probably would surrender to the idea of not being ever able to see again, so… if I recovered, I would be overjoyed."

Feliciano nodded happily, curl bouncing up and down with each nod. He called out to the Brit, like he had seen Ludwig do earlier. "Ve, Arthur!"

Silence came from the other side, but after almost half a minute, the Brit answered. "…Yes…?" He sounded awfully tired.

Both Feliciano and Ludwig frowned. "Arthur, are you feeling alright?" Feliciano asked.

Again, a long pause. "…Yes…the spell just tired me out a bit… could you wait for a couple of minutes…? I suppose this is about Feliciano's hand…?"

"Ja. We'll wait." Ludwig agreed. He turned to look worried at Feliciano. "You still are as pale as a ghost. How do you feel?"

The Italian laughed nervously again. "Don't worry, really, Ludd…! I'm feeling tired, that's all…" Feliciano smiled, and laughed yet again. He couldn't help it, he felt so lighthearted!

"You can enter…" The weak voice of the Englishman said, and they both stepped inside.

Francis wiped his forehead. Ah, sport was so tiring, and it did no good to his hair… well, without shampoo or balsam of any sort for more than a year, and without a good warm shower or a comb, his hair would probably be ruined forever. He was also feeling the beginning of a headache. Better stop playing, then, no?

He sighed, as he raised his hand. "Ah, guys, I think I will take a break."

"What?! Not you too, francypants!" Alfred whined. "We'll have uneven numbers!"

Lukas stepped beside the Frenchman. "I'll take a break as well. And I'm thirsty, are you not?"

Francis nodded, lying. "Oui. Well then, adieu!" He winked, as he left the mirror cave in which the match was held. Alfred pouted, but they resumed playing anyway.

As the two got to the dining cave, Francis sank in the nearest couch, holding his forehead. "Oh my, I think I might be getting a headache."

The Norwegian leaned onto the table, in front of him, arms folded. "So you have headaches too?"

Francis' head snapped up. "Wh-what?" he stammered.

Lukas huffed, a bored look on his face. "Do my eyes glow, Francis?"

The Frenchman was silent for a couple of seconds, but then answered. "Oui, they do. Not right now, but…"
"…In the dark. Just like yours."

Francis nodded, looking at the ground.

"…What does it mean?" Lukas asked.

He shook his head. "I don't know. And I'm sure that if we brought Gilbert to a dark place, his eyes would glow too." Francis grimaced, as the headache got worse.

"Yes, I agree. I wouldn't worry, though." Lukas said, looking elsewhere.

Francis looked up again. "Not worry? Why?"

"Well, considering what we…" the Norwegian paused. "…What we had become, it's already a miracle that we were cured in the first place. I think…that these 'things'" he pointed to his eyes "The whole eyes thing, and the headaches, are like only a…leftover, a reminder, of what we were, and of…him messing with our heads."

Francis shook his head again, but then immediately regretted it because of the headache. "Ah, I honestly don't know. And, truth to be said, I don't want to know either." He leaned back in the sofa, forearm over his face.

"I understand how you feel."

A pause.

"Shall I get you some water? You look like you need some."

Francis nodded, thankful. "Yes, please. Ah, what I would give to have an aspirin right now."

Arthur was lying on the medical room yet again. He panted, chest hurt, and he felt, quite literally, like shit. The healing spell on Berwald's eyes had required more energy than he thought, but had succeeded anyway.

He weakly smiled as Feliciano and Ludwig entered the room. "Why hello there."

Ludwig's gaze darkened, obviously worried of the Brit's appearance, which didn't look too good. His bandaged torso was still spotted in a dice-like pattern, even if five wounds out of six had almost completely healed. The only still serious one was the one through his lung, but even that one was healing well. The Brit was paler than usual, not only because of the lack of sunlight but because of his weak condition and the spell.

Feliciano skipped inside, also looking tired but definitely more cheerful. "Hi Arthur! How are you feeling? And what did you draw on your hand?"

Arthur smiled weakly. "Ah, I'm feeling peachy, thank you for your concern, Feliciano. As for this…" He raised his left hand, covered with black scribbles made with a marker. "…this was for Berwald's eyes." He shrugged.

Feliciano nodded, eyes as wide as saucers, staring in awe at the black symbols. "Oooooooooh." He sat down on one chair, and noticed that some kind of chalk circle had been drawn on one of the tables against the wall, also with strange symbols.

Ludwig simply stood, all chairs (ergo: one) taken and the medical table in the middle used by the Brit.

Arthur raised one eyebrow. "So, Feliciano. Let's see how your hand's doing, hm?"

Feliciano nodded again. "Ok!" He unwrapped the bandages of the hand, and as they came off…

"Veee!" the Italian yelped. Ludwig frowned, coming closer and a worried look on his face. Arthur couldn't yet see, but his eyes widened when Feliciano raised the hand up so he could see as well.

The white 'thing' had not changed, it still glowed as before.

However… the blue scales had spread, in a vein-like pattern, over almost all of the hand. Some scales even reached the tip of his fingers (nor Feliciano nor Ludwig, or anyone else for that matter, had noticed that before, somehow), and others his wrist. In the places where there were more scales, they had merged together, creating one solid hard, yet flexible, blue shell. It awfully reminded all three of them of…RED armour.

Tears of fear were already pooling in the Italian's hazel orbs. "W-w-w-what's happening?!" he stammered.

Arthur was immediately serious, and took Feliciano's hand in his, observing more closely the scales. "Ah, it seems like the scales are spreading…"

"Say something that we don't know already." Ludwig grumbled, frowning.

The Brit blinked. How unusual of Ludwig to be so impolite. But he probably was just worried, like they all were. "Feliciano, you cured Gilbert, right?"

Feliciano nodded, looking at his hand as if it were an alien thing. "A-a-and I cured M-Matthew as well…"

Arthur raised one eyebrow. "Who?"

"Jones' brother." Ludwig mumbled.

"Oh." Arthur seemed to have somehow forgotten about the American's twin. "Why did you cure him?"

"W-well, he had been scratched by a N-Nightmare, so…" Feliciano's voice was trembling, still shaken of his hand's appearance.

"Aha. I get it." Arthur said. "…You knew that 'this' was going to happen, when you cured both of them, right?"

"Y-yes! But they both needed t-t-to be cured! O-otherwise Matthew would be a Nightmare now, and, and, and Gilbert would still be a R-RED…!"

Ludwig put his hand on the ranting Italian's shoulder. "Calm down, Feliciano." He paused, and saw he was still panting. "Breathe through your nose."

Feliciano did as he was told, and really did his best to calm down, but somehow he couldn't. "L-Ludd? I'm scared…!"

"Don't worry. It's going to be alright." The German hushed him. Arthur smiled weakly, despite himself. Ludwig was feeling protective over Feliciano, and it looked…cute, to say the least. And both he(Arthur) and the German knew that what he had just said was a lie. Nobody knew if it was going to be alright…

"I think we can all agree this looks…this definitely looks like RED armour." Arthur stated.

It turned out to be the worst thing to say. Feliciano freaked out, crying and ranting.

"VE?! No! Why? Perchè? I don't wanna be a RED! I can't be one! Right? Right?! I didn't do anything! Veee! Please don't throw me out! I'm not a RED! I-"

"Feliciano calm down!" Ludwig put both hands heavily on the spazzing Italian, and kneeled before him. "He didn't say you were a RED. And you definitely are not. He only said it 'looked like'. So calm down. Please." To say the truth, the blond felt very concerned about the Italian right now. He looked like a frightened kid, tears streaming down his face and looking around like a trapped animal. And…he had grown protective over the little guy. He just looked so…innocent and vulnerable. "Shhh. Calm down. It's alright." He squeezed Feliciano's shoulders encouragingly.

Feliciano sniffed. "I-I-I-I'm not one of th-th-them!"

"We know. Breathe, Feliciano." Ludwig said, staring deep into the brunette's eyes.

The Italian took a shaky deep breath, and then swallowed. "C-Continue, Arthur…?" he said, unsure.

Arthur carefully chose his words. He definitely didn't want to upset Feliciano anymore. "As I was saying, this looks like RED armour. But you are not a RED. REDs are some kind of blend of Nightmares and humans, and they do not have weak spots. That thing on your hand looks like a Nightmare weak spot, but it is solid, almost crystal-like, unlike 'normal' weak spots. You are neither a Nightmare, nor a RED, Feliciano. We had this kind of conversation before, remember?"

Feliciano slowly nodded, using a sleeve to dry his cheeks and unceremoniously clean his nose.

Ludwig sighed, relieved he had calmed down at last. He looked up at Feliciano (after all, he was still kneeling). "Feliciano, I have to ask something."

Feliciano nodded, sniffing one last time. "U-um, yes?"

"What happened last night? When we walked outside, to get some fresh air. You weren't feeling well, do you remember?"
The Italian looked up, thinking. "Uh, I…I had sensed a RED, b-but didn't want to believe it… I convinced myself it was a bad dream. But I… I kind of passed out…? I don't know, the last thing I remember is you and me getting outside, and then it all gets hazy… Then I woke up in a totally different place, and met Emil and the others…"

Ludwig shook his head, and glanced sideways at Arthur. They both knew something was wrong, someone didn't just pass out like that. But then again, Feliciano was 'special', in some kind of way. But they didn't say anything. If they wondered things like that aloud in that moment, Feliciano would probably panic a second time.

"A-and there's something else I don't get," Feliciano continued. "When Lukas came here, I knew it was a RED. So did I when I sensed Gilbert. But...I didn't feel anything with Francis...Isn't that strange?" he asked, unsure.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head. "Feliciano, I feel powerless, but I have to admit that I don't have the faintest idea of what is happening. I can only hope for the best…! Now, let's bandage that again, shall we?"

Feliciano slowly nodded, and watched as Arthur's expert fingers bandaged his hand again, this time covering the fingers and wrist as well. When he was done, the Brit patted the hand lightly. "There, all done. Now, I think we should have a… oh bugger, forgive me for the unoriginal name: 'Rock meeting'."

Ludwig and Feliciano blinked. "And why is that?" the blond asked.

"Well, obviously there is only one RED left. Antonio, if I'm not mistaken. The Sentient sent Francis, Lukas and Gilbert, and they were obviously sent for a reason. They have to know something, at least. About this Antonio. About the Sentient and maybe whatever it's planning, even!" Arthur said. "They should tell us anything they know, so we could prepare properly for an eventual attack."

Ludwig nodded, understanding. He helped Feliciano stand up, and the Italians wobbled on his feet. "Ve... I'm tired… can I go sleep before this…this 'Meeting'?"

"Of course. We'll leave, Arthur. You rest too. I'll tell the others."
And that being said, they left. Feliciano faintly heard cheering echoing through the caves, and assumed Berwald had made his entrance. He smiled, imagining them all surrounding the Swede, Mathias most probably trying to glomp him. He then imagined Tino, probably overjoyed, like all the others. Things were looking better, somehow.

A couple of hours later, the Rock gang all came together for the meeting. The chairs weren't enough, so some people had to settle down on pillows, like Kiku did.

There were all small conversations between them. As Feliciano came plodding in, rubbing his eyes and yawning, Gilbert stood up and took the small Italian in a bone-crushing hug, making him yelp in surprise. "Ah, Feliciano! Thank you so much! Thank you! They told me everything, and I admit you are almost as awesome as me! Which is a really big compliment, by the way."

"Ve-! Gh!"

"Gil, I don't think he's breathing." Ludwig rolled his eyes. Gilbert simply laughed, and put the wheezing Italian down, patting on his head.

Arthur clapped his hands once to get everyone's attention. He didn't stand up from his couch, for obvious reasons. "Alright everyone. I induced this meeting for a reason. I think we were all introduced to the newcomers, and I assume everyone knows what happened last night." He paused, and some nodded. "Okay. Right now, we need to focus on things at hand. For instance, Gilbert. I'd like to ask you some questions."
The albino grinned, liking the attention, as he sat down again. "Shoot, Eyebrows!"

Arthur's said eyebrows twitched, but he ignored the nickname. "What did the Sentient order you to do last night? Why did Feliciano act like that? And what are the Sentient's schemes?"

Gilbert blinked. "Whoa, that's a whole shitload of questions." A slap echoed in the cave, Ludwig back-head-slapping his brother. "It's not his fault you can't count, dummkopf."

"Ow! Hey, that was un-awesome, Lutz! And I can count."

"Whatever. Now answer the guy, we're all waiting."

Gilbert pouted, rubbing the back of his head, but then straightened up. "Well…he, the Sentient, was all mad because Francis and Lukas had disappeared. We all had to look for his 'mistake'." He nodded towards Feliciano, who uncomfortably fiddled with the bandages of his hand.

"He…he said I had to come to this desert, however I had to stay away from the mountain. For one reason or the other, the 'mistake' would come walking out on his own, he said."

Everyone was looking or at Gilbert, or at Feliciano. The latter was averting everyone's gazes, looking down at his fiddling hands.

Arthur coughed. "Ehm. He did not tell you why?"
Gilbert shook his head. "Nope."

"Did you even know what Feliciano could do?"

Gilbert shook his head again. "No, he didn't tell us anything. Just that he was a mistake, that he was dangerous," he stressed the last word sarcastically, everyone knowing that Feliciano didn't look dangerous at all. "…we had to find him and bring him back, alive. Actually, he changed that last order with me. He told me I had to bring him to the city in which there were three other humans with a tank, and make sure Feliciano met up with them. I do not know why though, he didn't explain, like always."

Feliciano shivered, and Kiku put a comforting hand on the Italian's shoulder. Feliciano swallowed. Why was that…that Sentient looking for him? Probably because he could cure Nightmares and REDs. But then why did he want him to meet up with Yao, Emil and Matthew? And…Matthew had been infected… But it would make no sense, to want him to cure people, right? Feliciano swallowed again, worried. He didn't have the faintest clue of what was happening. But still, he felt uncomfortable, to really have something called… an enemy. This Sentient was looking for him, and definitely not to invite him eating pasta together. Something about wanting him alive made it scarier than wanting to kill him.

Arthur continued. "And so, do you know his plans?"

"Again…no. He had three chess boards in his room, but refused to explain us what all the pieces meant. Actually, he never told us why we had to do the stuff he ordered us, lately. I'm sorry, but I can't help that much…" Gilbert sighed, and Arthur did too.

"However…" The albino glanced sideways to Lukas and Francis. "…there is one thing you should all be worried about."
"What is it?" Mathias asked, curious.

Gilbert turned dramatically to the Dane. "Antonio." Francis and Lukas slowly nodded in approval.

Feliciano saw Romano tense up beside him, and Bella covered her mouth with one hand. "…W-What about him?" she asked.

Francis answered, leaning towards her. "He…he is the one who is most 'fucked up', cher."

"Why?" Tino asked.

Gilbert shrugged. "I guess I should tell you everything about him, since the Sentient will probably send him next. Well, he usually is the calmest one. However, he also is the most unpredictable one." He paused. "He was 'chosen' because of his Greed, so not only he craves for anything that has the smallest value, but he also retained all of his memories intact. Of when he was, you know, still human. So, because of that Greed, he mostly likes gold and gems, and he also is the one who gets hungrier the fastest. The hunger clashes with his conscience and memories, so usually gets angry real quick for apparently no reason; those times you have to stay away from him, if you don't want to be burned to an un-awesome crisp."

"B'rned?" Berwald mumbled.

Lukas nodded. "Antonio's ability grants him control over fire. His armour is deep red, and the mask only covers the lower half of his face."

"…His mouth." Romano whispered, looking down.

Lukas and Gilbert nodded. "Ah-huh. He has the sharpest teeth I have ever seen. Knowing the Sentient, he probably won't permit Antonio to…to…" Gilbert gulped, having difficulties pronouncing the word. "…to eat for a couple of days…enough to get him freaking hungry. And when that happens… Antonio loses it, and also starts eating inorganic stuff, even if that really doesn't fill him at all. I once caught him chewing on a metal scrap coming from a car. Also…do you know how crocodiles hunt?"

Feliciano saw Romano grimace, head bowed down, but nobody else seemed to notice. The Italian's fists were closed tightly, knuckles white.

"Dude, do you mean…the 'death roll'?" Alfred suggested, eyes widening.

Francis sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Oui, something like that."

"Excuse me, but… W-What is a 'death roll'?" Kiku asked, worried.

"It's a technique those reptiles use when hunting. The crocodile chomps down on its prey…" Lukas moved his hands, and curved his fingers mimicking a crocodile's jaws, "…and then starts rolling on itself, throwing the prey off balance and tearing away the flesh."

Everyone at the table gasped, and Feliciano gulped.

Gilbert continued. "Well, its not like Toni starts rolling or whatsoever, but you got what I mean."

Everyone at the table gulped or shifted uncomfortable in their seats, silent.

Suddenly, Arthur's head snapped up. "He knows…!"

"What nonsense are you blabbering about now, Sourcils? Who knows?" Francis groaned.

The Brit looked left and right. "The Sentient knows! He knows where we all are! Lukas got here by pure chance, following my magic trail. But he, the Sentient, sent Gilbert to the desert, knowing Feliciano would come out. He knows this place!" his voice escalated in anxiety, realisation sinking in. His wound through the lung gave a sharp jab of pain, and the Brit hissed, covering his chest with one hand, trying his hardest not to cough.

"Dudes, Artie is right!" Alfred jumped up. "This place isn't safe!"

"Do you think we should leave, aru?" Yao suggested.

"Where to?" Mathias said.

"How am I supposed to know that!?"

Everybody started talking to each other, worried and panicking.

However, everyone shut up as Ludwig slammed his fist on the table. "Everybody calm down!" He barked. "Nobody is going anywhere. As far as we know, this is the safest place to stay. However!" he raised a hand and the level of his voice, when Alfred tried interrupting him. "We should prepare for anything. Prepared to fight, prepared to flee. I don't want to let the Nightmares win in any way. Not now, not ever."

Silence lasted for a few seconds.

"He's r'ght" Berwald grumbled, finally.

"What?! You serious, Sve?!"

Again, all hell broke loose, but after a good ten minutes, everyone agreed to Ludwig's suggestion: get out every weapon they had and move anything useful to the jeep and the tank in case of a sudden retreat God knows where. They all started moving, seemingly randomly but somehow organised.

"Dude, it will never fit! We are fifteen dudes, so how are we supposed to bring food and other stuff with us?!"

"Let me guess, you are not good in organizing, aru."

"Hey!"
"Well, how much space do you have in that tank? I didn't see it, so…"
"…There's plenty of space for at least five people, and if we squeeze I think even seven could fit…"

"Did you hear something?"
"Hai… It was the wind, I think."
"…Maple…"
"Hey! You un-awesome people didn't hear what he said!"

"Who said what?"

"…I think I'll go to bed…"

After everyone had gone to bed, Ludwig sat down heavily on one of the chairs in the dining room. It had turned out that the tank had plenty of space, and that they could stack at least three boxes of food and goods inside the vehicle, in the empty spaces between the various machinery. Feliciano had helped selecting and then carrying the boxes, but had looked tired, so everyone had told him to sit and rest. So there they were, the two of them.

"Ludd…can I ask you something?" The Italian whispered at one point.

Ludwig nodded, smiling a little, despite the situation, at the nickname. "Ja. What is it?"

"Why is the Sentient…I mean…he can control Nightmares, right?" Feliciano fiddled with his hands.
"What do you mean?"

"…Why did he send only Gilbert? He could have sent a lot of Nightmares, and killed us, if he knew where we were…! Why didn't he do that?"

Ludwig suddenly was alert. "Are you suggesting…he's going easy on us?!"

Feliciano squeaked at the German's sudden rise in volume. "I-I don't know! I only thought it was strange!"

The German frowned, sitting back again. "Damn it, the bastard is only toying with us? But why sacrifice his men then? His REDs?"

Feliciano stayed silent, not knowing what to answer. Ludwig briefly wondered why Feliciano had been kidnapped in the first place. If he posed such a threat to the Sentient, why did he want him alive, and why didn't Gilbert bring him back immediately? Why bring him to another city, where he would meet three other humans? It was all very suspicious and strange, but alas, he could find no answer. Also, when he just thought about Feliciano's hand, his guts would stir involuntarily. He had a bad feeling about it, and was worried for the Italian…however he did not say a thing, knowing Feliciano would probably freak out.

After a couple of minutes, they decided to go to bed too. "Well, uhm… Gute nacht." "Buonanotte…"

Feliciano slept well, despite the still repeating nightmare of him falling over and over again.

…Somewhere else…

The Sentient looked almost bored. Almost. But that was because almost all his face was covered with a plain mask. A pair of violet eyes was glinting in delight.

He looked at the chess boards, in particular at the cluster of white pieces.

"Ah, humans aren't completely stupid after all, then. That mountain is a fortress …"

He picked up random black pieces, however not touching the black Rook near the black King.

"…Should I move my Nightmares, hm?"

He scattered the black pieces all around the white group.

"And good Feliciano will obviously feel them coming, and lead them…to safety."

He moved all white pieces to the third and almost empty board.

"Or so he thinks. So then…"

The black Rook was picked up and positioned near the white Queen.
"Antonio will do as ordered…and fail, like the others."

He toppled the Rook at the Queen's feet.

The Sentient Nightmare joined his fingertips together, elbows resting on the chess board, gaze locked onto the white Queen.

"And then… perfect."

Suddenly heard a thud, and something shattering. Ah, Antonio was growing restless already.

"Another couple of days, my Rook. Although without any snack, I'm afraid."
A snarl echoed trough the building, followed by a frustrated roar, and something exploding.

"…I can only hope he doesn't burn all of my furniture, hahaha…"

MEIN GOTT i hated writing this chapter. I don't know, it just was difficult. it has a lot of explainings and clues, and i had to organize them logically, while in my head they just run about randomly. and its all stuff i already know, so it was also kind of boring... I WANT ACTION! *grumble grumble* well, in the next chapter there will be some moar explanations, clues, but also, finally, action! fufufufu...!

ah, i finally uploaded two drawings (on deviantart, of course); the first one is the moment right after feliciano cured matthew (...who?), while in the second one gilbert appears for the first time on the battlefield ^^

/art/Nightmare-Apocalypse-Hetalia-Who-are-you-3696 04932

/art/Nightmare-Apocalypse-Hetalia-He-s-mine-369606 090

aha. right there, sweeeet! oh, and if you like imagining how Feliciano's hand is looking like, look up 'devil may cry 4 nero' up on google images. it kind of looks like that. kind of.

weather here is rampaging like crazy, i think there is a weather button somewhere and some idiot is playing with it. seriously, i don't know what i have to wear when i go out, because the weather changes every 20 minutes, going from hot to freezing cold.

Either spring is being late again, or is totally on time but has some serious identity crysis. GAH!

Also, a big, huge, enormous, massive, gargantuan, colossal, monumental, titanic THANKS to P3ace9797, who totally helped me out with finding something i desperatedly needed for my plot! :D

...aaaand i should be studying history. i have a test tomorrow about the WHOLE french revolution... Francis, i never hated you so much! *flips table*

anyway! i will leave you with these lyrics, i hope you are all well and have a nice weekend! ;)

["What are you talking about? America is not going to be destroyed."
"...Never?

...Rome was destroyed. Greece was destroyed. Persia was destroyed. Spain was destroyed.

All great countries are destroyed.

Why not yours?

How much longer do you really think your own country will last?

...
Forever?"]

[Rise Against - Survivor Guilt]

Mein Gott : (german) my God

Adieu : (french) so long/later/farewell

Perchè?: (italian) why?

Dummkopf : (german) idiot

Cher : (french) dear

Sourcils : (french) Eyebrows

Gute nacht : (german) goodnight

Buonanotte : (italian) goodnight