Paris, 1919
"We are not trying to invalidate your feelings, France, my friend. We just want you to be reasonable."
"German people are dying in mass of influenza and starvation, and it could make Germany desperate enough to break the armistice. We should reach an agreement now."
"Not yet. Give me a little more time..."
"More time? For what? For him to despair and us to choke on debt? The more time we lose, the more time we are exposed to-"
England went quiet at a gesture of France. He had heard a racket in some part of his house. It could not be the maid. She had left to buy groceries and let them have a private conversation. He made a sign to his partners to keep quiet as he walked—as stealthily as his limp allowed him—to what he thought was the source: his dressing room. Not only was sound coming out of it; was it sand, what was spilling from the crack under the door? He finally turned the doorknob and, when he did so, four people fell at his feet.
He always loved it when people did that, but this was too unexpected. Japan. Italy. Germany!
"Mais...Quoi?! What are you doing in my dressing room?! Are you mad?!"
Germany, still on the floor, lying on his stomach with Romano squashing him, was about to reply, but then saw the way the three nations in front of them, France, England and America, dressed. The bowler hat England wore. The glasses America used, the pince-nez type. And the way they moved. France seemed to have some problem in his left leg; England had a plaster in his cheek, covering a wound which still seemed to be oozing; America looked better than them but seemed pale, tired.
He then realized, after a moment of daze, that his wish had been granted. World War One had just ended. That was when the Versailles Treaty was being elaborated.
"This is a scandal!" England complained. "Spying on us! You shouldn't be here, Germany!"
"Where did all this sand come from?" America held his glasses with one hand while he kicked the floor to observe the sand covering it.
"Where are we?" Veneziano stood up, his head spinning. "Oh! France! England! America! You're here!"
"What year is this?" Romano asked.
"Get off me!" Germany pushed him away from him and stood up, talking to his partners in low voice. "I think we are in 1919."
"I think we went a little too back in time..." Veneziano muttered, looking around, barely recognizing his friend's house. He even walked to the window to see the street and he was convinced: he saw dames with long dresses and parasols, walking in paved streets arm in arm with gentlemen, cars which were an antique's treasure or museum piece in his time.
"No surprise they are not happy to see us." Japan muttered. "I don't know the exact date, but they are angry at us at this time..."
"What are you muttering?" France placed his hands on his hips. "I asked you a question."
"Look...There is a reason why we are here..." Germany started to say, not very sure of how to continue.
"That's what I supposed. What is it? Boycott the treaty? Spy on us?"
"We come from the future to warn you about World War Two!" Veneziano exclaimed.
Germany wouldn't have been so straight to the point, but maybe he had to thank his friend for that. At least they had broken the ice.
And, of course, such statement made France, England and America look at them with great surprise.
"What did you say?" America exclaimed.
"We just come from 1941." Veneziano continued. "Well, actually, we are from 202..."
"Italy." France slowly said, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not in the mood for jokes...So tell me the truth, please..."
"We are not joking." Japan said in Veneziano's defense. "We truly come from over a century in the future."
"Wait, wait a moment, guys." Romano whispered. "Should we really do this? I mean, Mila has already disappeared for altering the future, won't it have consequences that we tell them...?"
"We only have glimpses of what the world will look like if the Axis wins, at it is terrible. They are the only ones who can stop them. We have no choice." Japan replied.
"Heh! Did you hear that? They come from the 21st century!" America smirked. "So I guess you crushed your aero-cab against France's house, on your way to the mechanical barber, because you were distracted talking to your friends the Martians over the projector!"
"First of all, that completely exists; it's called video-call, and we don't do that while driving..." Veneziano replied.
"You don't understand..." Germany intervened. "That treaty...You might think blaming me for everything will tame me. You think this war will end all wars...You are wrong, very wrong...The worst is yet to come...And it's all because of that treaty..."
"We are going to team up against you! To conquer Europe!" Veneziano nodded energetically.
France, America and England glanced at each other.
"The three of you?" England asked.
"We shed our blood, handled Germany, Austria and Hungary practically on our own, and you gave us the scraps of the loot, not what you promised me..." Veneziano said, looking at England.
"And then listened to Australia's allegations against my proposal for the Equality Clause..." Japan added.
"Not to mention how you're going to prey upon me..." Germany said.
"So you joined forces and...?" America asked.
"Yes! Darn it, yes! Is it so difficult to understand?" Romano asked, exasperated. "That treaty will piss us off so much we'll get revenge! Do you want me to make a drawing or something?"
"I will force Austria to join me." Germany said. "We will invade Poland in exactly twenty years. The world will go to war once again, and if you thought what you just experienced was traumatic...You've seen nothing yet..."
"...And you tell us in advance? Why?"
"Because we know it's going to be a disaster for everyone! You can't let us win!" Veneziano exclaimed.
"I am more inclined to believe you have been drinking too much and are sharing some drunk's delusion..." England crossed his arm.
"We can tell you what is going to happen in all of this time." Japan said. "The winners of the civil war going on in Russia will be the Bolsheviks, and Russia will start the Soviet Union. He will try to convince you that his model of economy is the best, while millions starve to death, like he is going to make his own sister Ukraine endure. America, you will suffer a great economic blow in ten years, which will affect all of us, but you particularly. Russia will use this happen to you as an argument against capitalism, and both of you will become rivals. All your colonies will get independence from you. New countries will be born. You will have a younger brother in the 60s, England, and will become a headache for you. So many things will happen that I don't really know what to tell you. The extermination of so many minorities, destruction, atomic bombs...!"
"Enough! Stop telling us one catastrophe after the other!" France silenced him. "I don't know what your intentions are, coming here together to scare us with your horror stories, but you, Italy, Japan, being in Germany's company for unclear purposes just gives me more reason to leave you out of the treaty..."
"I agree." England nodded.
"France, I know you are hurt right now. I know you hate me with all your guts-" Germany said.
"Don't I have the right to be?" France turned to him. "You destroyed my house, slaughtered my people..."
"But listen to me, as a friend who doesn't want to see you enslaved..."
"Friend? I'd rather let them cut me into pieces and feed me to the pigs than have you as a friend. You are a snake. You think you can make us change the treaty in your favor with this pathetic scene. Well, some things are going to change, indeed. If you thought I would be harsh on you, you've got no idea...I am going to suck your blood. I am going to get everything from you and leave the bones. You are going to regret everything you've done to me. You, Italy, you've shown me that you are not a friend but a leech, and I will make sure you get nothing at all. Not that your performance deserved it...And Japan, why do I bother with you? You are just like them, but worse. You don't have a say in this continent. Go back to Asia, where you belong. I want all of you out of my house!"
The nations from the 21st century did not respond to his accusations and insults. They just did what they were told. Only Germany spoke before leaving the house:
"We will be testing our weapons during the upcoming Spanish civil war. A man named Adolf Hitler will become my boss. Under his direction, I will invade Austria and Czechoslovakia. Just...don't cross your arms and do something..."
Silence took over the house after they closed the door.
"Well, I think it's all clear now..." France said as well as a lump in his throat allowed him. "No more waiting. Let's get to the composition of that damned treaty..."
London, today
"Wait...America! England!"
Both nations turned to France.
"Don't you remember, when we found the Axis spying on us?"
"What? Wh...Ah! Yes! When they came out of your closet, no pun intended!" America nodded.
"Huh?" China gave the three of them an inquisitive look.
"And they said something about coming from the future, told us there would be another war, and told us...told us..." England dropped the book in his hands.
"The crack of 29, the Soviet Union, video-calls..." America said.
"What are you saying?" China protested.
"They are in 1919!" America exclaimed.
"But those who took them away were Nazis, clearly." Russia pointed out.
"Maybe they escaped?" Canada asked, and was heard by no one.
"Maybe they escaped!" His brother repeated.
"Yes, it could be, and they move in time!" France said.
"So, will they come back to our time by themselves?" China asked.
"It wouldn't hurt if we got access to that magical sand they used." Russia said. "If they have trouble, we will go rescue them."
"You got something, UK?" America asked.
"I have found a line talking about sands of time." England grabbed the book and his partners sat around to listen. "There are different versions of the story: the Christian one is that they are what remains of the tablets of the Commandments. The second one, the most known, is that they were a gift from the Inca god Viracocha to his greatest hero in a dire situation."
"It's all we got, I guess." China said.
"We can work with that, I suppose." Russia clasped his hands.
"Germany was obsessed with occultism in his Nazi days. All the mystical crap in the Indiana Jones films are nothing compared to what I found out he was planning." America said. "Those freaks he had as bosses told him he could win the war with witchcraft, magical artifacts and stuff. Sure he found out about something like the sands and got it. He tried it and worked..."
"Do you think the current German government knows where they are?" England asked.
"Perhaps they are still where they found it." Canada timidly suggested.
Paris, 1919
It felt so strange, finding themselves in those streets, at that time...They were used to the traffic, the people with short, informal, scandalous attire, the advertisement everywhere, smartphones, Latin and American music...They looked at the pedestrians as weirdly as they looked at them. The feeling of failure didn't help either.
"We...made things worse, didn't we?" Veneziano asked.
"I still see myself back at home...Poor...coughing...I see myself entering a bar, hiding in a raincoat so no one could recognize me, and hearing someone shouting in a passionate speech...I see Hitler in the tribune, talking about my deplorable state, the humiliation I had to endure, and who was to blame for that...Everything I deserved...I feel..." Germany stopped, and touched his chest. "...I feel again that burning rage inside of me...What pushed me towards that man...I think I am more desperate now, because if I paid my debt from World War One in 2010, now that France is angrier than ever and wants my head in a silver platter..."
"Yeah, and I still remember seeing naked children in our place, so thin they look like they are made of sticks, and thinking...'Those assholes will regret what they've done to us; we are not useless, it was our bosses, who failed us; we fought well; we don't deserve this'..." Romano admitted, his hands inside the pockets of his pants.
"Mussolini, Hitler...So everything is the same? We are still furious, or even more because the treaty has become crueler to us, and still want to crush them?" Veneziano sighed.
"Not everything..." Japan stopped. "Just a while ago, I remember winning the war, but now...It is almost like..."
"Like always!" Romano said, his eyes opening wide. "The Axis lost!"
"Yes...Yes!" Germany stopped to look at his partners. "But France and England didn't wait until Poland was invaded...They...declared war in 1938...When I annexed Austria..."
"They listened to us anyway! Oh, thank God!" Veneziano blew a kiss to the skies, where his God was.
"And they...they declared war on us and Japan because they thought we were plotting in Germany's favor...So we teamed up and..." Romano tapped his forehead with a finger in an attempt to remember as much as he could.
"So everything is back to normal?" Veneziano asked. "There is still World War Two but we don't win it, because our enemies know they can't trust us?"
"They had the advantage of knowing what was going to happen, and so the war started a year sooner...A moment of weakness from us, but...Still...America has not joined us, England resists the Blitz..." Germany thought aloud.
"But why isn't Ms. Quadarella back?" Japan asked.
"Mila...True...Why isn't she here?" Veneziano bit his under lip. "If we lose the war again, everything should be back to normal, except little details like dates and stuff..."
"The problem is, people's lives are not little details...Who lives and who dies...That has changed again..." Germany muttered. "...There must be hundreds of thousands of people back in our home, in our time, who have never been born because the number of casualties has changed...Or people who shouldn't have existed or survived, walking in the streets..."
"This sand is perverse." Japan frowned. "It shouldn't be used, ever. And the problem is that we don't know if it is still in the Axis' hands. They can use it to go back in time again and again, correct every mistake...shape reality into what they want..."
A pause. Japan and Germany looked at each other for long, until Japan looked away, turning his gaze to the door of a patisserie.
"Germany...I want to be sincere to you...I...see this as a chance to resolve the...tension between us."
"...So you too..." Germany pressed his lips.
Japan nodded. The Italy brothers looked at them, not understanding.
Germany sighed. "I must admit...I always saw our companionship as a...temporary alliance...I always had in mind..."
"Disposing of me once you got what you wanted and maybe attack me if the loot was worth it." Japan said. "Yes. I thought the same too. With those ideas about race...I never trusted you treating me as an equal...I was sure you'd be like the Entente, using me and then..."
"...I can't say I had my...prejudices...And prepared to fight you if you thought of getting more than what was accorded...I feared once all of Asia was yours, you'd..."
"I wanted to. I thought I deserved it..." Japan took deep air and looked again at Germany, looking almost shy. "I am ashamed of that moment of my life. I did things I am not proud of now. That man is not me. He doesn't know better. You are my friend, Germany. Not because of convenience. I wouldn't..."
"I know, Japan. I know. And I'm sorry too."
Germany, knowing Japan was not the hugging type, just placed a hand on his arm, a gesture enough to make his friend smile.
"That's why we have to fix this. Take the sand away from them. Even if what happened was horrible, it also brought good things. What happened, happened. We learnt our lesson." Germany said.
"Uhm..."
"So what should we do?" Veneziano asked.
"The sands were brought by a man, right?" Japan said. "We should find him, before he travels in time and gives it to us."
"Uhmm..."
"My pockets are full with sand, we can use it!" Veneziano said.
"Uhmmmm!"
"What's wrong, Romano? Have to pee?" Veneziano turned to his brother, and it was then when he saw Romano was trying to warn them. He saw himself, dressed with World War Two's uniform, with an arm around Romano's neck and a pistol pressed to his back. By his side were armed Italian soldiers, ready to shoot them at his order.
"Why did you do that? You only made things far worse for you..." 1941's Italy said with an expression of upset on his face.