I've been really busy lately. My most heartfelt apologies. School sucks. It's five in the morning.

I don't even know why I picked the nations that I did for the fight crew. Luck of the draw. I hope these fight scenes suffice :3

Review! :D

Sealand sat on a crate, chin perched on hand, and tapped at the screen of his phone. There wasn't much light aside from the dirty streetlamps, the light from his phone, and he couldn't see the others, though Sweden had repeatedly assured him that they all were right there.

It just felt creepy. He'd only seen the aliens in the projections, and he knew next to nothing about them. Did they wear giant spacesuits? Did they have six arms? Maybe they could fly.

Sealand surreptitiously glanced around. No aliens. He looked back down at his phone, where zombies were raging against his legions of plants. He'd reached the boss level, and a row of plants had just been squashed by an RV. It was easy to get absorbed in things as banal as this. And thus focused, he didn't notice the brief flash of light, like dull green lightening. And even if he had been alert, he'd have been too busy staring in the direction of the flash to notice the silent footfalls behind him until -

"Attack!" bellowed Turkey, and barreled out from his hiding place. Sweden joined him, cannoning into one of the three aliens. "Go h'de, Sealand," he said as evenly as he could while punching the startled alien in the face. "It'd be a sh'me 'f ya got hurt." Almost on cue, Netherlands launched himself at another alien almost gracefully. Denmark appeared next, the complete opposite of the refined-seeming nation, and yodeled some strange Danish war cry. Someone's pair of hands closed around an alien gray neck, and the Dane kicked it in the torso. "Feel the power!" he cheered, and Turkey had a moment to comment, "You're too calm about this."

Hungary was enjoying herself as well, battering her target to the ground. Every time it made to rise, she bashed at it again, emotion transforming her features. "Hurt my friends and die!" she snarled. Seeing that she needed no help, Australia headed for the one being attacked by Sweden, who wasn't quite losing.

The skirmish seemed to be going well at first. Surprise and numbers were winning out out for them. But then the aliens recovered from their shock and began fighting back with a ferocity and grace none of them expected. Sweden got stung first, and fell soundlessly. Sealand, who'd strangely enough, followed his orders on the first go, dashed from the relatively safe corner and crouched next to him. "Are you okay?"

The aliens were now evading the nations' attacks with ease and dealing painful blows in return. The only alien sustaining hits was the one Hungary was straddling and concussing, and that one didn't appear likely to move any time soon. But then a stray claw snagged her frying pan arm, and she hissed involuntarily with the pain. Netherlands ran to help her, and Denmark was left alone.

At least I'm armed, he thought grimly, and swiped the axe towards the stinger as it curved towards him again. It seemed to be a draw The alien couldn't get past the metal as he skillfully twirled it and spun it, but at the same time, that wasn't effortless. His muscles were tiring, and the alien seemed to sense this, raining blows on faster and harder. But Denmark merely swung the axe faster, blocking and occasionally fitting in a strike, which the alien dodged.

The alien Turkey was tackling clawed at the famous mask and left a sizable dent in the surface. Turkey's features hardened. "You did not just do that." One of his punches managed to connect, a glancing blow, but still satisfying. "Do you know how long I've worn this thing?" Swing. "I've had it, in perfect state, for at least two hundred years." His voice was even, steady, steely, ferocious. "And you've just dented it."

Turkey seemed to be doing well in that instant, so Australia turned to Denmark, who'd slipped up a few times and now bore red stains as a result. Towards the ground, Hungary seemed about ready to pass out, her arm hanging loose at her side, but she was determined, gripping the shaft of the frying pan in her other hand. The grounded alien seemed unconscious at last, but she couldn't muster the energy to rise and join the other fights. Frustration coursed through her (there were once times when even a silly scratch like this would've been nothing, how we've devolved), and she took it out on the alien, pan making rhythmic meaty thumps.

Netherlands, caught between two battles, had taken a blow to the head that left him momentarily dazed, squashing his spike of hair flat, and he fell to one knee, barely missing a swing that might've decapitated him, and he put his head down for a second and listened to the ringing in his ears.

And Hungary dropped, the blood leaving her faster than she would allow, and the exhaustion that walks hand in hand with blood loss had won, at least for now. Netherlands staggered to his feet to try and help her and a whizzing tail caught him on the torso. The sting took him out in moments.

Australia tackled Turkey's alien as it attempted to escape, and Denmark, who'd finally managed to render his alien unconscious (with copious amounts of help from the former), hefted Hungary's discarded frying pan in his hand before dealing several well-placed blows that finished his damaged alien completely. The fact that this one seemed to go unconscious much quicker than Hungary's he attested to blood loss; the alien had lost its own peculiar sort of blood, something almost neon in its red intensity puddling around the rare yet deep cuts from the axe.

Turkey had also been stung. The two remaining nations faced the last one, who was menacing Sealand, and Denmark armed sweaty blood from his forehead. "Have the energy for one more?" he wheezed to Australia, an almost competitive smile on his lips. Australia inclined his head. "Sure I am. What, are you getting tired?"

To the surprise of both of them, Sealand, who looked completely unafraid, launched his small steel body at the alien, hitting it with the force of a bullet. It stumbled a few steps backwards, not expecting the small creature to go on the offensive, and then regained its balance, swiping out with one deadly claw. Sealand, being light and nimble was able to dance out of the way, and he swept his leg out towards those of the aliens, somehow managing to topple it. It was already prepared for an easy landing and the agile continuation of the move when Denmark stuck out his upraised axe, the edge a deadly, reddish curve.

Thwock.

The head rolled away in one direction, and the body hit the ground. It twitched twice and was still. The Dane prodded it with his foot and said, "We shoulda let you be the fighter and us as the bait. Anyway, tell Hong Kong we're done, and we'll need transport for two of these aliens, plus, uh, Turkey, Sweden, Netherlands, and Hungary."

"Right!" Sealand whipped out his phone, fingers flying. How aliens could invade the earth without somehow disrupting local wifi was beyond him, but as long as it worked...

"Oi, Sealand," called Australia, and the micronation looked up. "You did a good job." The Australian gave a salute, and the blond nearly glowed with pride.

It took five minutes for the other nations to appear bearing stretchers, five minutes in which Denmark's alien woke up and was promptly clocked with the pan.

Hong Kong took in the scene, noting things mechanically: three aliens down, two likely unconscious, one clearly dead. The bait (Sealand), four nations down. All six nations harmed; Sealand is all right.

"Did any escape?"

Denmark leaned on the haft of his axe. "None. We got 'em all. We'll explain the rest at our new HQ."

Australia stifled the urge to roll his eyes.

The fallen nations were carefully lifted onto the stretchers; there were just enough for all of them. Someone suggested dragging the downed aliens through the streets, and since no one wanted to be carrying an alien over their shoulder only to have it wake up and pulverize their organs, the idea was agreed upon. With much less respect, the aliens were also transported to the library they were using. There were several columns adding to the aesthetic of the library, and to these they roped the aliens. Tightly.

Books were pushed off tables to clear space for Netherlands, Turkey, Hungary, and Sweden, and nations gathered around them, worry evident in their manner. A soft murmur filled the room; even in somewhat apocalyptic times, it was hard to get rid of the habit: don't yell in libraries.

It was a large library, taking up almost an entire city block, and there were plenty of chairs. There was even an ancient grand piano in the front window, which Austria was hogging. A consensus was reached at the largest group of nations: a meeting would be had so the fighters could tell their story.

Egypt placidly checked Turkey's vitals and wrapped bandages around the worst looking wounds. There was nothing that could be done for the blistered sting. Belguim, who was slightly less skilled in the art of caring for the wounded, followed his example. Finland was also observing Sweden's sting. However, most nations were clustered around Hungary, trying to figure out what to do with her half-severed arm. Upon seeing that, Austria's features had tightened. He pushed his glasses up his nose and turned to the piano, fingers flying in some truly presto minor music. He glanced over at them frequently, looking worried when he thought no one was watching.

They ended up applying disinfectant and rummaging through drawers for a needle and thread. After an extensive search, none was found, and there were groans of disappointment. A bandage was wound tightly around it. It was the best they could do; the library's medical supplies were lacking, and there wasn't about to be another expedition into the city to find a hospital. It was dangerous to go alone.

Denmark sat, quiet for once, methodically cleaning his axe. Australia was looking out the window, almost sulkily. The band-aid on his nose was dirty. Hong Kong did remember to ask them what had happened, but they were unusually reticent. "I don't want to have to repeat myself," said Australia, when pressed. "We are going to have a meeting, are we not? We'll say it then."

"It's hard to remember when you're fighting," added Denmark, and Hong Kong chose to leave them alone.

Sealand found a table to hide under. The smallness of the space made him feel safe, and, having nothing productive to do, he flicked his phone back on, hoping that the meager battery would last long enough for him to defeat the biggest zombie. And yes, he worried, he worried so much - they who saved me, will they be all right? The micronation wanted to thank them, but there were too many big nations around them, and there was always the constant fear of rejection by the masses. That a face would scrunch up accusingly and spit, "This is your fault!"

He decided to give his thanks later.

Wandering in the reference section of the library, Estonia's phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. Ukraine. His heart lifted. Has she found him? Lithuania?

"Hello?" His voice was expectant and hopeful.

"He's run. He left a note, but it was in a super runny marker and somewhat illegible."

"He did what?" A pause. "What did the note say? Can you read it?"

"I can't, I'm sorry...it's just a very sloppy font, and I guess I'll bring it to you."

Estonia chewed his lip. Lithuania's handwriting was usually impeccable. "We're at the library, the one with the stained glass windows. Be careful, though," he added suddenly. "The aliens - "

"I think I'll be able to handle an alien or so. I'm not as weak as everyone seems to think I am." There was a touch of pride in her voice, and Estonai refrained from telling her about the six nations who'd been injured fighting just three. "On my way!"

Click.

"She didn't find him, did she?" Latvia had found Estonia and limped over to him.

"No. She said he'd left an illegible note."

Latvia offered a quavering sigh, and without thinking, Estonia slung an arm around the smaller nation's shoulders. Frailer than he looked, thought the Estonian absently.

Hong Kong found them then, a serious expression on his face. "Macau tells me that the aliens are awake, and he'd found some loose chain coiled up in some obscure back closet. He's entirely sure that they won't escape, so we can begin to interrogate them now. Are you coming?"

Estonia nodded and dropped his arm back to his side, features stony. "Let's get this started, then."