So, yeah, not much to say other than the fact that my itunes wish list is piling up way too high. Oh, and this chapter, excluding the author's note that I am currently writing, is exactly 2,000 words long! Hurray for that! I'm precise! Which has something to do with the next chapter, so... Odd coincidence? Maybe! Oh, and it's hinted at the end of this chapter, so yeah. Enjoy. I honestly have no idea why people like this, it was for my own personal pleasure, lol.

Dinner was quite eventful. There was much chattering, but generally a lot of arguments being shouted between one another, such as Arthur calling Francis a "frog," and Alfred shouting "commie" at Ivan with a twisted expression. By the time Alfred led me to the sleeping quarters, which, by the way, he happily volunteered to do so, I was tired enough to plop onto the bed and conk out in a matter of seconds. It was a dreamless night, not that I minded, and I couldn't really describe the feeling that came over me when my eyes began slipping shut. It was not like I released stress, no, it stayed right where it was, but my problems, although I was very aware of them, did not bother me. Maybe I was in a state where I no longer gave a shit. Or maybe I just knew that they will go away, at some point. Either way, my sleep was peaceful.

The next morning, however, was shit.

I woke up, ears ringing in that annoying, ongoing, dog-whistle manner, the type that only you could hear, and I was way too freaking cold, considering the fact that I had kicked off the duvet and settled with hugging a pillow with both my arms and legs as a replacement for warmth. A very bad replacement. Yeah, I had to scold myself immediately for that, considering that I must have looked like an overgrown child, and anyone could have walked in on me like that. The door didn't have a lock. Oh, did I mention that my eyes were somehow so heavy that I was unable to open them for a ridiculously long amount of time, even though the rest of my body was fully awake? Yeah. I fucking hate the mornings.

When I finally managed to make the muscles in my eyes function, I stretched out of the bed and blinked slowly, taking in the room. I couldn't quite see it at night, considering this whole place was underground and there was no sunlight nor moonlight that could possibly light it, but now there were automatic lights blinking dimly overhead. They were the cheap ones, the lone lightbulbs that hang on a wire, and mine was apparently going to blink out any moment, but I didn't mind that much. I had surprisingly good night-vision. Of course, I can't see when it's totally pitch black, but even with a laser pointer, I would be able to fare very well at night.

There was a wardrobe next to the door, on it's left, looking very old, like it came from the Victorian era, and I took a long moment to take in it's beauty, despite the fact that it was, indeed, a wardrobe, not really an ancient artifact. On the other side of the door was a small, simple black coat hanger, next to a cabinet. On top of the cabinet laid a uniform that I could assume was meant for me to put on, and I walked up to it, running my hand over the material. It was soft, yet stretchy, and there were parts of it colored an extremely dark purple, which was different from the other uniforms I have seen. So far, I have seen shades of red, green, blue, and brown, but I have yet to see purple. I guess I can only assume that the colors represented something, as well as the shading.

I exited the room, seeing as there was nowhere in there to take a bath or shower, and I looked left and right, trying to remember what direction I had come from when following Alfred here. Now, my gut is usually right, like I said, but that's different when it came to direction. I sucked at that. So, when my gut told me to go right, I went left, and although I totally disobeyed my direction-retarded gut, I ended up lost fairly quickly.

"Oh, hey, rookie kid!"

I turned around, staring at the angry, molten Italian man from before. He began calling me "rookie kid" last night during dinner, when Gilbert was trying to come up with nicknames for me that I would approve. Mind you, I rejected every one.

"Hello to you as well, Lovino. Is there something you'd like?"

"Fuck no, you look like the lost bastard in this situation. Hell, did Hamburger Bastard even tell you which place was which and all that shit? Let me guess, he got so excited that he just fucking dragged you to your room?"

I also quickly came to realize, during dinner, that Lovino had an even bigger potty mouth than my mind did.

"Well, he didn't introduce me to any other rooms, and he was fairly fast, but I think this time it had to do with... something else."

"So you have a fucking shitty sense of direction?"

Wow. Nail on the head.

"The shower isn't that fucking far from here, rookie kid. Yeesh, guess I got to do Alfred's fucking job. Follow me, and don't fuck around and get lost again, or I'll find you and beat your fucking head in for being a stupid bastard, got it?"

"Yes, Lovino. I definitely got it."

"Good, now follow me."

Is it wrong that I was surprised over the fact that he didn't curse?

Lovino led me to the men's bathroom, and I thanked him as he left. He simply gave a crude response, not that I really minded, I don't think he would easily break his cursing habit. I entered the bathroom and was greeted with a face full of steam, as well as a strange smell mixed with sweat and shampoo. There was movement and chatter inside, and I came to realize that it was one of those showers that everyone shares. Oh hell no.

"Ah! Rodrigo! Come in! There's plenty of room!"

"Privet, little doll."

"Russian bastard, his name is Roderich! Roderich, come to my side, where it's far away from that guy!"

Holy shit.

That was probably the worst experience of my life. I will never speak of it. Ever.

After the, um, shower, and after getting dressed into the uniform, Gilbert offered to lead me to where we were supposed to go, and I gratefully accepted, since I saw from the corner of my eye Ivan, staring at me creepily. I think he must think I'm his new toy or something, or maybe he just wants a friend, but either way I don't like it. And if he did want a friend, he was going the wrong way about it.

I was led to the same dinning table, where everyone was chattering and arguing. The smell of eggs and hash browns were a very pleasing scent to me in the morning, and I sat down next to Gilbert, Elizaveta on the other side. She had been staring at me ever since I walked into the room, a big and bright smile on her face. And the smile wasn't fake.

"Um..."

I shifted uncomfortably in the chair, a little panicked and unsure of what to say.

"Hello... there..."

"Hello!"

I jumped a bit, surprised by her very enthusiastic answer. Nope nope, definitely not going to start a conversation any time soon. I was not in the mood for such a one-sided and too peppy conversation.

Fredrick, who was sitting next to Maria, stood up, and everyone went silent, even Arthur and Alfred, who were arguing with each other so badly that it had been heard by everyone. Frederich coughed into his fist, getting ready to start a speech, I presume, and reached into his pocket. He took out a small metal, glowing orb, and he pressed a small button on the side of it. It opened up, revealing a diagram of a building, one I have never seen nor read about, and I noticed quickly that it was a skyscraper. That meant it was in a city, and there are not many cities around here. If there were, I would have ran there in a heartbeat.

"This is the tallest building in the city of Hamburg, which was built for military purposes just recently. Despite my high ranking, I was labelled unauthorized to enter the building, which is off, don't you agree?"

Everyone but me nodded in agreement, and I honestly did not even know anything about the rank system in the military. What rank was he? Maybe the building was strictly for scientists, or it was for building weapons, although that may be unlikely. The WG is not the most... violent. Not hungry for more mass destruction technology.

"If whatever is in the building is so special that even a high ranking military officer can not enter, then there is something fishy going on. We are going to penetrate the security and get a sneak peek at whatever they are conjuring up in there. I want my stealthiest agents on the job, so no, Elizaveta, you may not break any walls today."

Elizaveta groaned loudly, and I scooted further away.

"Ivan is far too... big, for this operation, so I'll send in Feliciano and Kiku. Feliciano, you are going to be guiding Kiku from outside the building."

"Good! I'd be scared of the big men in there!"

Ludwig was facepalming at that comment, so I guess it's safe to assume that Feliciano was a bit of a scaredy cat.

"Kiku, I'm sure you know what to do. If any trouble occurs, I want you to inform Feliciano. Feliciano, if you get his signal, that would mean to send another agent in. The agent I want you to send if any problem were to happen would be Ludwig, understand? No one else."

"Okie dokie!"

Yeah, I'm starting to understand Feliciano's character more and more now.

"As for the rest of us, I think we need to start training the new recruit. I want Gilbert to be the one on this task, as you two seem to be much more... comfortable with each other than anyone else."

I heard snickering, which was weird, I have no idea why that was funny, but whatever.

"Anyways, let's dig in!"

"HELL YEAH!"

I looked at Gilbert, who started stuffing his cheeks, and I noticed that his ears were slightly red. Was he sick?

After a very great breakfast, me and Gilbert were heading to his part of the training room. It was red, matching the color of his uniform, and there was coal on one side of his section, as well as dumbbells and medicine balls. If training involves excessive working out, I don't think I'll be the best at that.

"So, we'll start on the basics. You lift?"

"No. Not at all. If you haven't guessed yet, I'm about as weak as a noodle."

I flexed my arm, as if to prove the point.

"Well then, Noodle, we'll start with channeling your power. Not everyone here is required to be muscly. Feliciano has none, although he runs very fast, and his usual job is to guide our stealth agents. You might be lucky enough to get a job like that."

"Yeah. Lucky. And never call me 'Noodle' again."

"I like it, so... Nah."

I glared, and he only chuckled.

"Quit pouting."

"I'm not pouting."

"Whatever you say, Noodle."

Gilbert took a chunk of coal and put it in the center of his section.

"Lesson for today! Controlling your power is important. You need to know you're limits, as well as exceeding them. It's also a good thing to be precise."

Gilbert got a tape measure.

"Use your shadows to lift that hunk of coal an inch off the ground. Exactly."

I think I have the general idea of where this scene is turning towards.