I squat and save everything... If reality implodes, will I explode?
I've reminded America time and time again that Germany and I are, in fact, Trekkies. Yes, the original series was a comedy here, but my techno-brained little brother loved it, and he got me hooked with TNG after I moved in. We watched loads of new episodes together — many of them at America's house I should add — but for some reason, the kid can never remember. Probably because we look too cool to be nerds.
He zoomed over today — wanted to ask "Germs" if it were possible to engineer a mech suit with both built-in air conditioning and an ice cream maker. Germany said that was a question better suited for Japan, but after some heckling, he got down to drawing up some drafts on the blackboard, and a few sticks of rare Japanese chalk later, we're on the couch watching TNG like old buddies again… only this time with a 137-cm flatscreen and surround sound.
"I wish I could convey to you what it's like for me now. What I've become."
The voice streams from some disembodied source while Geordi La Forge squats in a glorified air duct. He's hacking into the ship's propulsion system so the Enterprise can nyoom to a starbase before wimp-turned-supergenius Barclay can kill everyone. High stakes, and the highest honor to be the guy squatting in an air duct. Sometimes I wonder if those future pants are as breathable as they look. Even if they're just costumes, they look so comfy! Not that there's anything against my heavy old wool.
At this point, Barclay has merged his mind with the ship's computer and can control all its functions, leading to the aforementioned air duct squatting. He's using this time to gloat about his great intelligence to Geordi, who gives some lukewarm answers amidst his squatting.
"I perceive the universe as a single equation, and it is so simple. I understand."
"You understand?" Geordi asks.
"Everything."
I hear a gasp to my left as the TV pauses. Before I get a chance to understand for myself, America's got my shoulders in his bone-crushing vice grip. His elbows are all wiggly. I seriously have to grant him a tail to translate that excited energy.
"What is it!?" He shouts in my face.
"What is what?"
"W'll, uh, th-that! Everything! The universe as a single equation! You know what Barclay's talking about, right? You know the true nature of the cosmos! So what is it!?"
"I don't know. Isn't it 42 or some shit?"
"An equation, Prubo! A single statement that solves everything! What is it?" He shakes me, and I have to temporarily transmute my shoulder joints to titanium.
"What's the equation that explains how you know about my brother's… condition?" Germany asks from beside both of us. Dammit, kid, I told you this was a secret! Keep hanging around me, and your impulsiveness will destroy the universe with a single statement!
The wiggling stops a bit. "Wait, Germs, you didn't know that I know?"
"I didn't know that you know," Germany replies.
"And I know that he didn't know that you know, but apparently you didn't know that he didn't know that you know, but we all know now, right?" I clarify.
They both nod, a bit confused.
Germany slicks stray hairs back behind his ears and sighs. "Are you aware just how important this secret is, America? My brother has incredible capabilities — ones that could easily destroy life as we know it."
"Harsh!" I squeal.
"I haven't told anyone," says America. "Nobody'd believe me anyway. I'm always talking about heroes and aliens and creepy crap. 'Prussia is the master of the universe?' Totally just another conspiracy, am I right?"
"Better to be on the safe side," I say. "Even I don't fully know what I'm capable of."
"But you do know the answer, don't you? What Barclay was talking about?"
I sink into my seat and cross my arms. America's looking at me with childish eyes. So is Germany. I'm glad the two of them have become such good friends over the decades, but their combined thirst for knowledge is insatiable. What a pair of nerds. At least one of them is a nerd with my manners and handsome looks. In the wrong light, America looks like a nightmare lamp.
My silence is profound, because Germany then asks, "Does the show actually resonate with you?"
"What do you guys want to know? How do you know my knowledge won't make your heads explode?"
"We're countries! We can respawn! It doesn't hurt, right? Germs? Does respawning hurt? I've never done it before."
"Respawning doesn't hurt. Dying does," Germany grunts.
I try to rise up, but two pairs of brawny arms push me back down before gesturing at the screen. There's Geordi squatting, frozen in time. He's feeling the fire in his thighs today.
Well, here goes nothing.
"I've seen and processed the entire universe, yes. I understand what Barclay's talking about. Everything really can be summed up in a single, simple equation. I can't say what it is for his, but for our universe, it's laughably simple. The trouble is, even if I told you the equation, I wouldn't be able to explain what it means."
"It means 42!"
"Shut up, you star-spangled idiot! Now, when I died and ascended to 4-D, I was shown the universe and its relation to the 11 dimensions, but I only saw it for a split second. In the fraction of an instant, I knew everything. But then I lost it again. I suppose I could find more knowledge if I dared venturing higher up the dimensional awareness scale, but I haven't gone beyond 6-D. All I know now is what I can piece together from memories and psychic visions. I'm not omniscient, and even if I were as smart as Barclay, I wouldn't just know everything at the drop of a zit helmet."
"6-D. Ho-ly-shit."
I nod smugly. "6-D. Space-time is pretty much infinite at that point. A planet like Earth could be as big as the entire universe while occupying the same area as a billion other worlds. Plus, matter at the quantum level sounds exactly like a soprano sax. I think it's the biggest dimension, too, and very thick. I couldn't get too far, even in a 6-D body. Anyway, there are 11 dimensions in all, and at the highest point in existence, right above 11-D, there's this cathedral that sits under a floating treasure chest that sits under a swirly blue thing. Only Ignorance himself knows what's inside that treasure chest, but it must be the Ultimate Secret. The secret that ties all secrets together. The simplest of the simple equations. And, if I may be so bold, The Power Of The Power Of The Picture Frame."
They're both lost on that last one. Haven't been introduced to 4-D anime references.
"W-what does matter at the quantum level sound like here?" America asks.
"Plucked strings."
"Well," says Germany, "If the Grand Scheme of Things really is that vast, then surely you can tell us how you'd sum up our universe in a single equation. Tell us Everything, brother."
I shake my head. "Can't. You'd spend millenia trying to figure it out, and I wouldn't be able to help you."
"Brother—"
"No. If you want, I'll explain how a hypercube works, since no one online can do that. Had to see them from a 5-D perspective to understand, but I finally did!"
"But we wanna know the simple equation!" America whines. "We're never gonna see other dimensions like you can, but we wanna know about our own universe. As small as it is, it's worth exploring! Don't keep us in the dark, Prubo."
"What's with this Prubo nonsense?"
"It's your alien name!"
"Well, you'd tell all the aliens if I told you anything! Then, if someone smart did figure out the meaning—"
"42."
"Asshat! It is not 42!
"Then what is it!?"
"Why do you care!?"
"'Cause, uh, in the name of science, I must persist!"
"Well, digging the answer out of a man isn't science. Science is natural observation. Don't you watch public television?"
"Yes I do! In fact, I fall asleep to it sometimes. That's why I have all those dreams about fighting monsters inside that English mansion where all the old people sit around a huge table and complain about stuff."
"You just think knowing the equation of the universe will give you powers like mine."
"Maybe."
"It doesn't work like that. Knowledge isn't power, America."
"It is, too! Come on, dude, it's the biggest fantasy trope there is! If you know someone's true name, you get full control over that person! Must be the same with the universe!"
"The universe granted me powers because it didn't want to deal with me anymore. It's like warp drive on the show. Matter and antimatter annihilate on contact to produce energy. Positive and negative balancing and cancelling each other out. I both exist and don't exist, and that's why I have powers. Not 'cause I know some big secret equation. This is Hetalia, not frickin' FMA."
Both silence themselves, then share another weird look. Each brings a hand to his stomach and winces. The earth's core shakes a bit beneath our feet. The other two can't feel it, but the parallax of a few stars start shifting. I grab my stomach, too. There's a heavy feeling in there. Like, profound heavy. Like I just casually voiced the True Name of the universe itself.
Oh, fuck, I think I did.
"Dude… what's Hetalia?"
There's another tremor, stronger this time.
My invisible eyebrows are as scrunched as theirs. "I don't know, but don't say it again. My subconscious feeds me sensitive material like that sometimes. It's Friday night. Let's not get in too deep, okay?"
"You felt it, didn't you," Germany tells America. "That word. It has power."
"Yeah, I felt it in my gut… like EP, but… stronger."
"Well, there you have it," I tell them. "Is that what you wanted?"
But America's way too fascinated by his aura, which flared up on its own after the last tremor. A ring of orange sparks around his irises, like Germany's gold and my muted pink.
"Hetalia," he says.
The whole room shakes. The window glass shatters. My brother and our dear friend tumble to the floor, wreathed in earth power. I see warps opening up all around us. Gateways to the Anticanon, and perhaps even beyond. I jump off the couch and push America out of the way before he falls right through.
"Don't say that again. Don't even think it. I think it's the universe's name," I command. I ball my hands into fists, which glow a wicked pink. "Dammit, now I'm beyond erasing your memories. Now I have to fucking reverse entropy."
"What does that mean?" America says, completely casual. He clearly can't see chunks of the wall melting into a bubbling, sizzling mess all around him. Clearly we are not supposed to know this word, Hetalia.
Germany must see something, because he locks fearful eyes with me and says, very slowly, "Oh my God, Prussia, the women. You were right. They're there. I see them. I see them, Prussia!"
"You see the women!? Where!?"
"They're… out there," he says, pointing into the void.
"W'll, yeah, are you just realizing that now!? They've always been there! Now quit distracting me! I have to send us back in time, what, eleven minutes!? Better if I took us back to when we were selecting an episode to watch, but I don't want to rip reality a new one."
"A butthole?" America asks.
"Ach, just get on the couch, you impish little nutwagon. This might sting."
"Are we gonna respawn—"
I snap my fingers, and his lips curl into themselves, melting and merging until his mouth is nonexistent. Then I stabilize my grip on the carpet and focus on Geordi, who, despite all odds, is still squatting before me in a glorified air duct. At least looking at him prevents me from seeing all the women.
They all know that word, I realize. And us knowing it makes the world transparent, so we can see each other directly. It's not a rip in existence. It's a ripple.
Needless to say, ripples are still dangerous. So I do what I have to. I squat down and concentrate on my body. Existent and nonexistent. Annihilating constantly, to the point of my own destruction, only to be sustained by the force of love.
I am a part of the universe.
I am outside the universe.
The universe will obey me.
I'm full wackadoodle at this point. My hands are all pink and tingly, slightly bloated into 4-D while slightly merged with the Anticanon and beyond. I grab one malleable piece of reality and mesh it with another, then another, and another, then push, push, push! And pull, pull, pull! I seal up all the warps and swell the walls back to normal. Things stop floating. Things stop falling apart. The world slows to a crawl around my body. Then a crawl of a crawl. Then The Power Of The Power Of The Crawl, until I can hear the faint sound of strings.
Ladies! Squats!
"Kehren Sie um."
The rest is mechanical. My arms are moving, heaving and pulling time and space backwards, but I don't know why. Every second that crawls past me is another second gone from my memory. I see the shadows of warps and hear America and Germany telling me strange things in a backwards language. My heart races, but something is telling me to keep going. Keep on going. Even when I don't know why. Why am I doing this!? What happens in the future!? The world is getting so heavy. My arms are shaking. Space-time thickens, hardens, wraps around me. I push through it, but its slimy tendrils are like weeds.
As if a miracle, Geordi lifts out of his squat, and I lift out of mine.
I fall from the couch, whimpering and moaning. How did I get on the couch? TNG. Right. Just like old times.
I feel a lurch in my stomach as time starts moving forward again, and I'm barfing on the carpet just as Barclay says he knows everything.
"Brother?"
"Prubo?"
The two are at my side, pulling me up and walking me to my room. I'm plopped on the bed and made to lie down, but my insides are sloshing like I'm at sea.
"Dude, you feeling okay? What happened?"
"I don't know," I rasp, "but I think I just saved the universe."
The universe.
O = Ɐ
~N~
The TNG episode in question is "The Nth Degree" from Season 4. Barclay said that line, and I got frustrated that he never elaborated. But maybe Prussia can, if he finds it in his heart.
In the 70s, the original Star Trek's German dub changed many lines to make it "funny" and "for kids." This caused some discontent when the movie dubs stayed true to the original script. Now that's trivia for a Hetalian consideration!
If anybody wants to try making some cover art for this, show me what you got! Let me know if it's possible to draw Prussia in his 4-dimensional glory.
Updated by Syntax-N FanFiction . Net June 19th, 2020. Go to work. Put money in savings. Spend money on yarn. Yarn is good for you. Also water. And dry rice cakes. Don't repost.