Munich, 1941
An explosion made the walls of the bunker shake; dust fell from the ceiling, but the Italy from the 40s paid little attention to it, or at least made a successful effort to dissimulate his nervousness. He and his men forced the group to hurry toward an isolated room. There, Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan were seemingly waiting for them, in front of a map Japan from the 21st century had a second to glance at.
In 1941, as he could barely recall, their power over Europe and the Pacific was much greater than what those maps reflected. There were lots of pieces representing the Allies' army surrounding them. It was an invasion. It seemed their warning had made the war start sooner, at the first signs of violence. Probably the end would come faster.
"The Führer has been captured and executed by American and English forces." 1941 Germany said.
Future Germany was already seeing his fist in his jaw again. He saw himself furious. The death of Hitler had provoked his surrender in his timeline because he was tired, hesitation had more influence over him than his cause, he was desperate enough to need his advice and motivation—but in 1941 he had this passion, this rage, and the execution of his beloved leader and savior only contributed to pour petrol over the flame.
"And it's because of them. They used the magical sand and spoiled it all." 1941 Italy said.
"I am starting to think your existence is more a burden than a help..." Germany crossed his arms, walking to the group.
"So...Should we kill them?" His partner asked.
"Maybe that's the only way to win this war. We certainly made a mistake bringing them here...They seem to love being a caricature..."
"You will never win." Germany replied to himself. "Sooner or later your dreams will crumble, because they are based on something evil and wrong."
"We are nations." 1941 Germany answered. "It's what we do. What makes our system work? What makes us grow up, become strong? Domination. Conquering our sources of power and space. In this world, no country has ever lived without spilling blood. It's Darwin's law: only the strongest, the fittest, survive. Was the great Dame Greece evil? The Roman Empire was wrong?"
"You watch your filthy mouth before speaking about my grandpa." Romano snapped.
"Even he knew he had to get rid of those who contaminated his blood, used others for his benefit, conquered many. And aren't we enjoying the advances he created, his bright legacy?"
1941 Japan had been silent, his gaze lost in thought, until that moment, when his partner was going to get an answer.
"Let's talk in private..." He spoke then, and requested his partners to follow him out of the room, while the soldiers made sure their future selves didn't cause any more trouble.
"They are right on one thing: our vision will forever be threatened if we don't take measures to erase what is in our way."
"In that case, we should end them for good?" asked Italy.
"No..." Japan replied, shaking his head gently. "They are not the problem. Just the proof that the enemy will let us live with dishonor and decadence. No, I am talking about the root of it all. The ones who will oppose us, the ones that cannot be tamed."
"The Allies..." Germany frowned.
"It doesn't matter the timeline: they will always find a way. If we defeat them, they will wait all time they need to pounce on us, turn our allies against us and do everything necessary to crush us. If we take them to our side, they will fight us for supremacy. You have seen that 'Cold War' that will break between America and Russia as soon as this war is over."
"We have the sands of time. We have control over all possibilities. Erase what is not good for our interests. Try again, again and again..." Germany muttered.
"We have to make sure the Allies won't bother us! Maybe travel back to the Great War, win it, convince them to..." Italy said.
"Why wasting health and money on war when we can prevent it?"
Italy turned to Germany. He saw his eyes shine, ruminating an idea...It had to be something big, seeing the expression of his face, the glow in those blue eyes when he said:
"You are right, Japan. The Allies will always be a thorn in our side. We have to go to the root of all this. We didn't start this war, after all...They forced us to do this. They scorned us..., got in our way...They stole what was rightfully ours...They left me unprotected, alone, hungry, humiliated; took everything away from me...And in the future they will continue to do so, taking full control of our lives and shaping our conscience so we believe we are abominations they need to redeem, hounds who need to be kept on a leash..."
"What are you going to do, Germany?" Italy asked.
His friend turned his eyes to him, at the same time sand was starting to surround him.
"This time, I will be the maker of my own future." Was the last thing Germany said before vanishing in a sandstorm.
"Germany! W-Wait, Germany!" shouted Italy.
He quickly followed Germany into the sand. Japan joined them.
Brittany, 1054
There were no cars, motorcycles, planes, trains or scooters to get to a destination quickly. No fast food restaurants, nor pre-made meals. No computers, smartphones or even electricity. No office to attend, reports to study or to make. The two little nations knew no hurry at that time. Although they already had duties as the representation of an abstract concept, they still could afford moments of play. France and England were children, and, like human children, needed to disconnect from the expectations others had for them.
"Careful with the ears." England said, feeling the blade of France's knife too close to his skin.
"There!" France placed it on the grass and took a little mirror to show England his new haircut. "What do you think?"
"I told you just to trim it, you left it too short."
"You had such knots I had to cut them. Don't worry, your hair grows so fast. Wait. There is just one thing missing." Humming happily, he placed a flower crown on his head.
"Get that off me!" England shook his head violently until the crown fell off. "I am not a sissy like you!"
"Hey! I made it for you! And what does sissy mean? Sure it's something bad!"
"Learn some English, you frog, and you'll know!"
"Ah, bon, dans ce cas, je ne parlerais pas ta langue. Je ne suis qu'un 'frog' qui sais rien..." France crossed his arms and pouted.
"I don't understand your sissy language!"
"Dis-moi mots que je puisse compendre et je te parlerai en anglais..."
"What are you saying? I swear, if you are insulting me..."
Both of them went quiet when a shadow cast upon them. A blond man, the weirdest-looking man they had ever seen, was standing in front of them, like coming out of nowhere. He carried something in his hand...they didn't know what it was. Some kind of fancy musical instrument? A farming tool, or maybe for navigation? They had never seen something of the sort, and he extended his arm until its cold surface practically touched France's forehead.
A detonation, a sound they had never heard in that place and time before, broke the peaceful silence, followed by England's gasp. It was all he had the time to do.
London, today
They were on their way to the airport. There was no time to eat or to sleep. They didn't know if Japan, Germany and Italy were alright; each second counted. All they had was that small clue the legend of the gift of time from Viracocha, or God, whoever. They could only follow that.
But the group suddenly stopped, when two of them halted.
"What? Is anything wr...?"
Canada's words got stuck in his throat when he saw sand slipping down France's face from a hole in his forehead.
"England!" America suddenly cried.
England stumbled, Russia and America held him in their arms. He also had several holes from which sand was coming out.
France looked at Canada wide-eyed, opened his mouth a bit to try to say something, but he suddenly crumbled, like a statue of sand.
Sand was also what was left of England in Russia and America's hands.
"What is this?!" China exclaimed.
America was paralyzed, looking at the sand in his hands which seconds ago were his brother, until that was what his own hands turned into. Before he could move or say anything, his whole being also disappeared in a cloud of sand. The same happened to Canada almost at the same time, his whole body disintegrating when he tried to take a single step.
The pavement under the feet of China and Russia...it was also turning into dust, eroding! The buildings around them, the lampposts, the cars, the people, and from the piles of sand they had become new forms emerged!
"What is happening?!" China kept shouting, looking around him in shock and terror. "What's all this?! G-Guys!"
"China..."
China hushed, turning to Russia.
"What is wrong? Why are you shouting?" Russia asked calmly.
China blinked, disoriented, feeling his head spinning and his heart racing.
Actually...
...He didn't know where that stupid anxiety came from...
"...Huh?"
Russia looked around him, while shaking off the dust adhered to his gloves. The city was quiet, there was barely a soul in the street. After all, it was late at night. Everyone was sleeping.
"I am tired and I want to go to sleep." He said.
"...Yes...I should go back home...Japan's probably wondering where I am, and he will beat my ass..." China muttered.
They had no business to be there, after all...
Brittany, 1054
"Germany! Ger...!"
Italy stopped and gasped when he saw what his friend had just done, the little bodies at his feet.
Germany turned around and looked at his companion, panting due to the intense feeling it had brought him, ending the lives of those responsible for his misfortune. But there was something wrong. Italy saw it and ran towards him.
He was about to touch Germany when he suddenly dissolved into sand.
"Germany! Oh, no, Germany! Germany!" Italy shouted, kneeling down to take the sand with his hands.
Japan stopped right where he was. A small, almost imperceptible curve appeared on his face.
"Fool..." He whispered.
He approached Italy and saw him tremble.
"Japan! Germany...!"
"I know."
"We've got to bring him back!"
"Why? He got what he wanted."
Italy gazed at Japan feeling a chill in his back. How calmly he said so, his hands behind his back...How cold his eyes seemed...
"There is no more war. England, France and their children will not be an obstacle now. Nor Germany. Go home, Italy. You wanted to bring Rome's glory back, didn't you? Then now it's your chance. You have the sands of time to help you. I don't mind you taking what you want—as long as you stay away from Asia."
"W-Wait...Japan...Are you serious?"
Japan was about to leave, but stopped for a second to look at his partner.
"I hope you listened well to what Germany said. We nations have to do what we have to do. Your grandfather knew. Germany knew. I know. If you want to prosper, you need to be stronger and wiser...We will meet again, I am sure..."
And with that, he used the sands on him, to disappear in the wind, leaving Italy alone, sat on the grass.
Munich, 1941
Where did the Axis go? What were they planning to do? The four nations were still wondering this when a new bomb shook the whole room. Only this time it continued shaking. Was the building crumbling?
It was! Dust was falling over their heads, threatening to bury them! The soldiers guarding them shouted something, tried to get out of the room, and they couldn't see what became of them because all of that sand made it impossible to see, but their screams ceased suddenly. There was nowhere to escape, they were trapped in that room, so all they could do was embrace each other for protection.
It was a great racket, like the whole world was exploding, the floor at their feet was sinking...
And then, just like that, it all ceased.
"...Is it over?" Romano asked, his heart in his throat.
"...I think so..." Japan replied after a second.
They slowly moved away from each other, to find that they were in the open air...There were no signs of destruction. It was a very pretty day, sun shining, barely any clouds in the sky, people walking in the streets without a care...The building had disappeared, the soldiers had vanished...They didn't see any Nazi flag, or even a soldier...It almost seemed unbelievable it had ever happened.
"...Germany?" Veneziano suddenly called.
It was then when Japan and Romano noticed they were three, not four.
"Germanyyy!" Veneziano shouted aloud, looking around him.
"Where did blondie go?" Romano muttered, looking for him too, but he was nowhere to be seen.
People were looking at them, muttering. Japan saw a man dressed with an uniform watching them from the distance and then hopping on a car.
"I don't recognize the uniform that man is wearing..." He told his partners.
"We are still in Germany's house, right?" Veneziano asked.
"Unless those jerks brought us God knows where...Yes, we should be in Munich." Romano muttered.
"But this looks nothing like Munich, not the one I know...Where are we?" Veneziano said.
They decided they had to find out. Maybe they would find Germany on the way. He had to be somewhere. And they found everything was familiar and at the same time not. The clothes people wore were not what was fashion at that time, didn't recognize them. Same with the cars, maybe a little outdated, not as developed as they should have been in the 40s. There were definitely no signs from the Nazi regime.
"Forwards or backwards, but this is not 1941..." Romano mumbled.
"Unless something has happened and Germany has been affected..." Japan said.
"I hope he's alright..." Veneziano sighed.
And people were looking at them in such a weird way...
They were about to cross a street when a car stopped in front of them, blocking their way. A man hopped off. The group drew back when they saw it was Prussia.
"Hey!"
Last time they saw Prussia he was angry at them for what was going to happen to him, so they couldn't say they were happy to see him. But now...He was smiling at them. He was wearing no uniform, but informal clothes. He seemed glad to see them...
"I've just been told you were in the city. What? Don't you know the way to my house?" Prussia asked them.
"...P-Prussia?" Veneziano muttered.
"Wow, it looks war affected you real hard. Those Africans are a headache, right? But you look good, pal. I see you've handled mosquitoes very well. Lucky you. I'm never laying a foot on that darned continent ever again, I said it a hundred years ago and I intend to keep it that way." His eyes met Japan once and he got quiet, his smile faded a little bit, but he seemed to shoo whatever uneasy thought he got and smiled again at Italy. "I thought you had no time for vacations."
The three of them could barely speak. They sure looked like idiots to Prussia.
"So...You're not mad at us?" Veneziano asked timidly.
"Have you seen Germany? He was with us and we lost him." Japan asked.
Prussia's eyebrows furrowed. "Who?" He asked.
And then he looked over their shoulders.
"Ah, look who's here..." He said, and waved his arm.
A man was approaching them, walking fast.
"Oh! Germany!" Veneziano exclaimed, and ran to throw himself into his arms. "Where were you? We were worried about you!"
"Heh, hi, Italy...Uhm...Really? Well, that's nice, I...I guess..."
It was then when Veneziano realized his voice sounded really strange. Did Germany inhale helium?
That sudden change of voice made him look at his friend closely. Then, he saw the man he was embracing was wearing different clothes, and his hairstyle was also different from Germany's: this one had longer, slightly darker hair. But his face was the same...
The man chuckled.
"What are you doing here, Italy? Do you need something from me?"
"...Germany?" Veneziano muttered, looking into those blue eyes, thinking...why was his friend acting like that? And if it wasn't Germany...who...?
"You've been repeating that word like a parrot, what does that mean?" Prussia asked. "Hey, Holy Roman, I think our friend had a reaaaaally bad time and could use a good dinner and a nap."
Romano and Japan looked at each other in shock. Veneziano's heart skipped a beat.
He was hugging Holy Roman Empire, who, for what they knew, had been dead for over two centuries.
