"Do you really think Dark England is going to keep his promise?" Sealand asked as the team marched through the front lawns. "Doppelgangers are obviously not trustworthy. They're going to lie."

"Exactly the point," England said calmly.

Sealand narrowed his eyes in confusion and peered behind at the others for hints as to what England was talking about. They gave him a blank look in return. It made Sealand wonder if following England's secretive plan such a good idea since there was no voice of logic coming from anyone else. And looking back at his history, England could lose it and get them all in trouble.

"Why are you giving me such a look?" England snapped at Sealand. "Stop it, you're starting to scare me with that face."

"So like, what's the point of playing a game?" Ladonia asked scornfully. "Why even a game? The world's at risk and we're stuck goofing off? That doesn't sound so big and mighty."

"They'll think we're playing," England muttered under his breath. "And if that doppelganger breaks his promise and sends the others to find us, then they'll be distracted looking for us."

"Alright, but if they're looking for us and they do find us, then what?" Iceland asked.

"They won't find us," England said. "They never will."

Scotland caught up with England and stopped him, turning him around to jab a finger at his chest. "Listen. If anything happens to this place...anything, I'm going to ignore all of those treaties and pacts, got it?"

England narrowed his eyes at Scotland and Scotland's glare intensified. Wales looked like he wanted to step in and stop them from fighting but Ireland placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

"You don't trust me?" England asked with a hint of poison.

Scotland scoffed. "You thought I would?"

Silence again. Denmark waved a hand between their faces for a while and laughed, patting them both on the back with such force that they broke concentration out of alarm. "You guys are brothers and you're fighting at a time like this? Awww, come on! Even I don't fight with Sweden anymore and our history was pretty bad, am I right guys?" Denmark threw a glance behind his shoulder at the other Nordics.

Finland smiled at England and Scotland. "It's true. Even though they had their odds, they're still good friends and there isn't anything between them at all."

"Like I always say," Denmark grinned, "the past is in the past. Look to the future and don't trouble yourself with heavy burdens."

"Is that why you're known as one of the happiest places on Earth?" Liechtenstein asked.

Denmark gave her a thumbs up. "Not 'one' of the happiest places. The happiest place!"

"But...didn't you lose that title to Norway?"

Denmark patted Norway on the back and coughed into his fist. "Uhh, that's not important."

Despite Denmark's spiel, Scotland and England continued to give each other a look before they sighed heavily. "Do whatever you like," Scotland scowled. "Just don't destroy my place."

"Like I'd ever do that," England sniffed.

Scotland burst out laughing. The group watched him in dismay, shooting looks around to see if his laughter had attracted any enemies. When he had calmed down, they were relieved that they were still incognito.

The humor in Scotland's eyes disappeared and the corners of his mouth twitched back into a grim frown. His eyes narrowed slightly and he lifted a finger, staring at England. "Remember way back when...Oswald of Northumbria?"

England sighed, clapping a hand over his face wearily. "Oh no...I shouldn't have said anything..." he said bitterly through his fingers.

"Treaty of Falaise, Edward the First, Thomas Randolph, Edward the Third, Henry the Fourth, Alexander Stewart and Edward the Fourth, battle of Flodden Field-"

"Alright, alright, I get it," England snapped. "But this time it's different, okay?" He softened his tone and added quietly, "Can't you trust me just this once?"

Scotland gave England an indifferent look. Glancing back to the others, Scotland said dryly, "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"It's for the sake of the freaking world," Mr. Puffin squawked, fluttering his wings furiously as Iceland grimaced as his talons tightened on his shoulder. "If the dopps take over, where the hell am I gonna get my licorice, dammit?!"

"Shut up," Iceland ordered. "Keep your voice down-"

"How can I?!" Mr. Puffin demanded as his wing-flapping became more frenzied. "Do you think those doppelganger bastards will supply me with licorice? Do ya? Hell no! They'll chuck raw fish at me and I don't like my fish raw!"

"You're a puffin," Iceland said firmly as the group shifted uncomfortably, "You're supposed to eat raw fish."

"Does it taste like licorice?"

"I don't think so-"

"Then no I'm not going to fucking eat it-"

England reached out and manually clasped his hand over Mr. Puffin's beak in irritation. "Honestly," he huffed, "I don't know how Iceland has put up with you." Directing his attention to the dismayed Iceland, he asked incredulously, "How do you do it?"

Iceland gave England a half smile. "I give him licorice."

England sighed as Denmark and Finland laughed behind him. "Of course," England muttered, giving the agitated puffin a vicious look.

Dark England had a decision to make. He could side with the other doppelgangers (and possibly win) and start another fight to see who would take control of what. It would be very troublesome if that happened, and if they won, it was guaranteed that they'll fight among themselves. Who were they kidding? Every one of the hatreds knew it. They all wanted it. They wanted everything.

They might as well worked alongside their greed, if the greed had broken free in the first place. It amused Dark England that it was the hatred emotion that broke out first. No other emotion in history had broken out before. What caused them all to break out at the same time puzzled him, though he rather not let his mind linger too much on it.

On the other hand, he could decide to 'lose' the game, then all his troubles would go away and he could return to England and not worry about anything. Ah, how simple it would be. There wouldn't be anything he'd have to worry about, since worrying and stressing over things clearly didn't work out for him (emotions weren't meant to worry; they were the very cause of worrying in the first place after all). No, he had to put up with idiotic ideas from Dark America and what had happened to that personification of hate? He went and blew himself up.

Dark England smiled grimly as he watched England and his team cross the front lawns from his window in the office. At the rate the countries were working at, Dark England already knew that the chances of ta doppelganger victory had considerably fallen ever since the Chicago incident. They were only delaying the inevitable now. Besides, the countries weren't countries for nothing. They had survived this long through whatever stupidity humanity had thrown at them. Sure, dealing with something that wasn't even considered 'physical' or living shocked the world, but they were recovering considerably.

"We live a month to wreak havoc upon thee yet thou hadst already won," Dark England murmured to himself. His grim smile widened to the point where he felt like he couldn't control it. He slowly clasped a hand over his wicked grin and dug his nails into his flesh. "No matter...I refuse to go without one last play."

Iceland watched his darker counterpart intently through the crack in the wood. Dark Iceland passed by without suspicion, or at least, that's what they hoped. England didn't intend for his doppelganger to keep his promise ("Then why the hell did you ask him in the first place?" Scotland had scolded him.) and if Dark Iceland knew, then he was putting up an okay act since he didn't seem to be looking for anything in particular.

Mr. Puffin sniffed when Dark Iceland was out of earshot. "Man, they don't even got a doppelganger of me."

"I don't think I'd be able to stand two of you," Iceland murmured, leaning back from the wood.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Shhh..."

England glared at the puffin until he was quiet (at last). "Alright, everyone is here, yes?" The Nordics minus Sweden nodded at him simultaneously. The two micronations, Sealand and Ladonia, gave him an intense look back, determined to prove their worth. Liechtenstein was present and unharmed, which was a good sing because if he ever lived to see the end of the doppelganger commotion and Liechtenstein was hurt, Switzerland would go crazy on him.

England felt a touch of nostalgia when his own brothers nodded at him in unison. Working together as a team...when was the last time they all gathered together on the same side of a great conflict without one of them forcing the other to?

Then again, they were forced to join the team but for the sake of the world, they probably would have joined anyway.

"Would you mind explaining the plan?" Wales asked, "I think it would do us good if we know what we're doing."

A murmur of general agreement arose and fell to a hushed silence again when they heard footsteps pass them. They waited until Dark Netherlands went away and then England started to speak again.

"If I know my own hatred, he would have told the others about this game of ours," England whispered solemnly. "They'll be looking for us."

"What's the benefit in that?" Ladonia snorted.

"Half of us will be decoys while the other half find the weapons and destroy them," England explained. "Remember, you have to be caught and captured to lose."

"What's the bloody difference?" North Ireland asked.

"I would consider that 'captured' means you have no chance of escaping. You'd be locked up if you are captured. Caught, on the other hand, would mean that you've been spotted or had a brief encounter and yet escaped."

"So then why didn't you say so?" Finland asked. "What if Dark England didn't get that part?"

"Well, if we play things right, he doesn't have to," England said. "If we were ever captured, then he'd see us and it wouldn't matter if he knew or not."

There was a silence. Nothing stirred from the outside of their hiding spot. Everything was so still that it was unnerving to sit in the quietude. Wanting to break the tension, Liechtenstein asked meekly, "Who are the ones responsible for creating diversions then?"

The loud ones, England thought at once, giving Denmark and Mr. Puffin a quick look. Denmark blinked at England and Mr. Puffin flapped his wings in annoyance. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

"Denmark, Iceland, er...Ireland and North Ireland. A bit of magic will benefit you four. Five, I mean," England added. He turned to give his brothers a peculiar look, communicating only by facial expressions and telepathic messages. He intended for them to keep an eye on Denmark and Mr. Puffin, since they'd become reckless and eventually become captured.

Ireland and North Ireland gave him a sharp, curt nod of acknowledgment. A small part of England's tension lifted; he'd have to trust them to do their job.

"Stay hidden though. If they suddenly hear a lot of noise, it would be obvious we're distracting them," England warned quietly. "Everyone else, we'll be following Scotland. He knows this place best and he probably knows where all the secret passages are and the secret rooms." There was a small pause before England added reluctantly, "From now on, take orders from him. Until we finish our mission, follow Scotland."

Scotland raised an eyebrow in England's direction. He quickly adverted his eyes when England turned to look at him, coughing gently into his fist. "Alright, it's been almost a half hour since this Brit started the game. We need to last three and a half hours. In those three in a half hours, we need to be careful, you hear? After that, then we're free to finish whatever we need to do without them lurking around.

"And hopefully, we'll be able to save our part of the world," Scotland added quietly.

There was a gleam of determination in his eyes that made England smile to himself. It was the same kind of determination he had seen every time he tried to conquer Scotland in the past.

Yes...how very nostalgic. England thought.

At last, another chapter! Ahh, I'm sorry for the long wait. I truly am. Of course, I have no excuse. Well, I might but I don't think it's an excuse at all. More rants about AP classes and rehearslas for contest (I'm in the orchestra) won't do me justice from your impatience for the next chapter. I apologize, though the number of times I say I'm sorry don't mean much, do they?

Anyway, a quick author's note. The last sentence Dark England says, you know the one? "No matter...I refuse to go without one last play." I find that pretty funny in a way. They're playing a game so the word 'play' makes sense. Also, back then, whenever people spar, they also call it a 'bout' (at least, in Shakespeare's Hamlet they do) and they 'play' a bout, so they are 'playing' a fight. Also pretty appropiate.

And hey, Shakespeare. Play. Haha.

Yeah, I know, that last one was pretty lame and obvious. Forgive me again.