NOTE: this is an altered version of an Australian Aboriginal folktale. If you want to read it in full, search up, "How Fire was Stolen from the Red-Crested Cockatoo"
The darkening sky rested above a flat grassland that fostered a tribe of birds who had settled in after a tiresome day of hunting. The small community huddled around a single human, a weary traveler who's leathery skin draped loosely over old, tired bones. With his belongings gathered close and his hunger satiated with whatever morsels he was offered, only then did he fulfill his end of the bargain.
In exchange for a place to rest for the night and a sliver of food to silence his stomach, he began to tell of his many adventures beyond the horizons but one story in particular caught everyone's attention.
You see, though the days under the fiery sun were warm and comforting, the nights swept through the lands like a ghoul, chilling all life to the bone. Life was also especially bleak in the wintertime when the world was blinded with white numbness that even the sun couldn't seem to save them from. So when the old man revealed that he had discovered the secret to the fire in the sky, the tribe didn't think twice to let him in.
With one last swig of water to moisten his lips, the traveler began his story.
"For many moons, I have journeyed through mountain highs, and canyon lows. I've met the edge where the ocean waves swallow the earth and empty wastelands, where the presence of death reigns supreme. It was in one as such that my story began.
"I had left my own people from a land far bleaker, where the clouds bury us in darkness that I am from and after many satisfying travels, I reached a place where water was sacred. There were no living creatures, only their corpses gathered near riverbeds that had long dried out. Even the plants, so parched that their sickly yellow limbs crumble to the touch. I barely survived my journey as I dug greedily in the burning sands for the tiniest sips of the sweetest water one could behold. But soon, I came across a place where the trees could climb beyond the clouds. A magnificent sight, I thought to myself but what astounded me more was when I saw the glorious flicker of scorching light appear in the shadows of the trees.
"A brilliant cockatoo I saw, so majestic and pure with the power of the sun crowning his head. I watched as he took fire from under his crest to light his path into the forest and in awe, I couldn't help but follow him like a guiding star. But the cockatoo was not very pleased to see me and with a flap of his wings, a branch was set alight and he shot it at me like a flaming arrow. I was forced to flee and after wandering back to my village in the dark, I could find no trace of a living soul. They had left without me.
"And so I slowly stumbled through the world, my lonesome and tired self only living to carry this secret for myself until I came across your tribe. So here I sit to offer you an opportunity. Would there be anyone who is willing to brave the same dangers that I have encountered during my travels and retrieve the fire from the magnificent Cockatoo? The power it holds will bring great things for us all."
This knowledge sparked great joy and frenzy within the tribe and though they were all willing, no one knew where to begin. Eventually, they decided to hold a great event and invite the Cockatoo and take the opportunity to steal the fire.
And so they did and the Cockatoo accepted the invitation, much to everyone's delight. Though many of them tried, offering him food and drinks, inviting him to sing and dance, the Cockatoo never let down his guard and the night ended with his departure. Not a single ember was obtained.
Thinking on their feet, the tiniest bird of the tribe decided to follow the Cockatoo to his camp and flew off in a frenzy to catch up. The little bird followed for several hours but eventually grew too tired to continue just as the sun sank into the shadows but all was not lost. Cockatoo reached under his crest and pulled out a flame so bright to light his journey before disappearing into the distant trees that the old man had described. The little bird had witnessed all this, confirming that what the old man had said was definitely true and returned to tell the others.
The next morning, just as the sun had risen high enough to illuminate the land but not heat it up, a single little robin took flight into the morning sky, heading over the dry, yellow plains to seek the fire-crested Cockatoo.
Just as his wings were about to give up and drop him from the sky from exhaustion, the towering trees came into view along with the Cockatoo's camp. The bird himself reached under his crest to light a small twig before tossing it into a slightly larger pile. He was preparing a meal for himself, lighting a small campfire to do so.
After waiting for the Cockatoo to face away, the robin eagerly approached to steal it but found it too hot to touch, as expected. Remembering what he saw, the robin plucked a fairly long stick from nearby and scooped up a small ember but was spotted by the Cockatoo, enraged that someone was trying to steal his fire. Clutching the flaming stick close to his chest, the robin dove back into the sky to escape but the other chased after him.
With a sharp swipe, the Cockatoo was able to knock the stick out of the robin's clutches. The flaming stick struck the ground and immediately, the bone dry bushes and plants burst into a hellish inferno. Horrified, the red-crested Cockatoo retreated back to the trees but the robin did not waver. He dove into the blaze and snatched the burning stick but the fire had scorched his chest as he shot back up over the wildfire.
It didn't take long for the fire to rage all across the dried up plains and smoke, ash and fire chased the wind that followed the robin. It was as if he wore a cape of fire, the very sun they coveted riding on his tail feathers.
The tribe woke to the sounds of triumph and the tired flaps of the little robin, now adorning a chest of blazing red feathers and a stick of fire.
When the fires of the wasteland finally ceased, the smoke and heat had caught the attention of the gods, who bestowed heavy rainfall and new life to the lands, changing the bitter, barren wasteland into a lush, beautiful meadow.
The robin was celebrated for his bravery and with the new fire, the tribe and people prospered with a whole new world of possibilities.
...
"What you wouldn't give for your story to end there but alas... there is more to be said. Isn't that right, America?"
(NOBODY POV)
It didn't take long for America to realize that fire did not bode well while being pounded by rain.
"God FUCKING DAMNIT!" he spat as he barely avoided the jointed, robotic tail that swept at his feet. His fiery attacks did nothing to the metallic hide of the mechanical chameleon puppet, leaving it just as pearly and white as before.
Russia found himself in a similar predicament as his frigid abilities didn't seem to hold as well as he wanted. It wasn't quite the rain that gave him problems, but the heat of the tropical rainforest environment. It turned his majestic glacial constructs and near impenetrable shields into sloppy disfigured messes. He realized this fact not long after being slammed into the ground as a toucan puppet plowed through his melting barriers with ease.
Of course, those hindrances had nothing against Sunfire and Core Polaris. Hell- the rain would sooner catch fire than extinguish it but Olympia's snickering voice played in his head.
"You will be immediately disqualified if you burn down the arena with your ungodly flames so let's keep it under wraps, okay? Same with your unbreakable ice. We don't need any more little accidents with your unearthly elements, especially while the Powers are taking a break."
"No using Sunfire, I got it, I got it," America sighed to silence his annoying yap.
He decided to resort to physical maneuvers instead, diving to the side and vaulting off a fallen log before driving his heel into the puppet's "head". It creaked and groaned, stumbling from having its head kicked in but it wasn't defeated yet.
It slowly disappeared, its white shell coloring to camouflage with the environment before slinking away.
Now that Ame couldn't see it, he had no idea how to determine where the attacks would be coming from. The best he could do was to dodge with all his might and hope that his reflexes were good enough. Finally, the puppet reappeared on one of the branches. Its jaw unhinged and a grappling claw thing shot out to grab him.
Fortunately for America, his partner suddenly leapt out of nowhere and sent a wicked suckerpunch piercing clean through its robotic skull before it could disappear again, effectively shutting it down. The flashing red number '0' on its hit points counter confirmed that as a blip sounded on his wristband.
A total of 10 points had been added, 5 for each of the small puppets.
"Hey! I was gonna take it down- YOU STOLE MY KILL!"
Russia glared down at the other country who was sitting ass-deep in the mud, as he peeled the deformed metal remains off his arm. That was the first thing he had said to him all day.
To be honest, neither of them were truly mad at the other and they both knew that. Their stubborn unwillingness to cooperate was simply a petty stand off of their pride and egos. If Germany hadn't threatened them within an inch of their lives to stick together, they would have bolted by now.
America scowled and hauled himself to his feet, "Honestly, why am I always stuck with you?"
...
Olympia clapped his hands gleefully as a hologram fizzled into view in front of them, along with the four hovering screens that surrounded the arena on all sides for the spectators to see. Each participant was given a wristband that blipped to life once it had locked onto their wrists. This wristband would act as a score keeper, timer, and a camera to bring the action to the big screens. It would also act as a tracking device and monitor for the Tournament officials and referees.
America rubbed his wrist as he and Russia were given additional semi-suppressant metal bands to keep them in check.
"As I said before, we will be competing in a modified game of Manhunt spanning a maximum of 5 hours." Olympia began. "One team of two from each of the three branches will be the hunted 'Targets'. Each team shall also receive one of these boxes."
Olympia reached into one of his rings and retrieved three redwood boxes, each carved with unique sets of symbols and locked with a thick, Awakening resistant lock.
"You are to do your very best to keep your box safe and they must stay with you at all times," he continued as he placed the boxes down. "When the game begins, you will be the first to enter the forest but do beware. You will be given 5 minutes to prepare before the 'hunters' are dispatched."
He gestured proudly to the side where a massive rift in space tore into existence. From that rift, 100 gleaming mechanical puppets of a variety of shapes and sizes marched out. They all had pearly white bodies that displayed a range of numbers from 10 to 100, clearly marking their point value. This robotic army was no doubt the handiwork of NASA.
"In total, there are about 1500 of these puppets prepared. The games will begin with 100 being introduced. 100 more will be added every hour, maxing at 500 puppets total.
"What about the other 1000, you may ask. Well, there are unique little challenges scattered all throughout the forest and if they aren't completed, you might find yourself surrounded by these puppets so watch your step."
...
A blazing red glow suddenly enveloped them before temporarily transporting them to a simple new space. A puzzle was presented before them.
It was quite simple and all they had to do was rearrange the tiles in the correct order to cross to the exit but America wasn't in the mood to solve jack shit. Instead, he shoved Russia aside, picked up the first tile and chucked it at the other side where a button lay. The tile shattered and the button was slammed in.
Seeing that the puzzle was unsolved, the space blared red before opening back into the forest where a horde of 20 or so new puppets waited.
...
The simulated hologram looked like a tutorial to a pixel art rpg video game and it had displayed exactly what Olympia had said so far. Sure enough, six little characters, three pairs were each equipped with one of the three mystery items. One pair stepped onto a tile outlined in red and after a moment, a little check mark signified that they had completed the challenge. The pair advanced with no problem.
The next little pixelated pair stepped onto the same tile but they did not complete the challenge. A bunch of puppets spawned around them as a consequence.
"If the Target is caught by the puppet, they are out. The game shall end when one branch is left standing, whether it be both or only one player."
The pixel puppet zapped the trapped duo and a flashy, "GAME OVER" sign blared on the screen.
"However, the Targets are allowed to retaliate, but only against Hunters. Each puppet is different in design, abilities, point value and hit points. Their hit points signify how much damage they can sustain before shutting down and their point value signifies how many points will be added to the person who shuts it down."
The little pixel person re-appeared back on the screen and with a comedic "KAPOW" the puppet was defeated and +10 was displayed over their head.
Olympia smiled at the childish little demonstration before turning back to the contestants, "In short, Target team objectives will be to survive by running from the puppets, keep their box safe, and complete any of the domain challenges that they might fall into. The more daring ones can also try and fight the puppets to earn points.
"Of course, the rules are quite simple. Do not go out of bounds, stay within the rainforest. Do not cause more damage than necessary please. Amazon here would really appreciate that.
"In general, do not kill or maim anyone, respect each other and the rules. If an opponent is clearly unable to continue, cease fighting and wait for one the staff to facilitate any procedures needed. Our lovely battlefield medics, Red Crescent and Red Cross, will be standing by just in case anything happens. Other than that, anything goes for Awakening use unless specified by one of us executives.
"With that being said," Olympia glanced at Ame who was shuffling towards Germany, hoping to switch partners without being noticed, "The hunted Targets will be your predetermined first pairs. Please step forward, America and Russia of the Central Branch, Mexico and Peru of the Southern Branch and China and South Korea of the Eastern Branch."
...
With one last satisfying crack, America ripped off the head of the last puppet which looked like a giant rhinoceros beetle, adding a nice 80 points to his counter. Russia dusted off a couple as well and though he hated to admit it, they made a pretty good pair, even while they silently fought with each other. Despite occasional, petty sabotages like deliberate kicks to the shins or "accidentally" ramming into each other, they fought in sync, after having memorized each other's movements. They instantaneously knew the other's intentions without any form of communication.
Now if only they weren't too busy being pissed at each other...
"I swear when I get out of here, I'm going to give Brazil a piece of my mind," America continued to fume as he waded out of the pile of scrap metal. The rain was still pouring relentlessly over them despite them running away from the rainclouds for nearly 30 minutes now. It almost seemed as if it were following them, something Brazil would be in control of and probably would do for all the times America set him on fire by accident during that one training session.
This 'enter a challenge, fuck it up on purpose, beat up robots and get points' cycle continued on for a little while until they stepped into a new challenge domain that was outlined in purple.
The challenge was created in the form of an odd structure that they stood on. Mechanical dials and switches appeared here and there that they needed to use to open up a door to the exit. On all sides, a bottomless void trapped them on the tiny pillar and if they fell, the challenge would no doubt end.
With that in mind, America took one look at the complex mechanisms and proceeded to take a swan dive off the side. Russia, on the other hand, remembered a significant detail and managed to grab the American's ankle at the very last second, allowing his downward momentum to swing him face first into the side of the pillar.
"OW WHAT THE FFFFFFFF," America instinctively yelled as he peeled his face off the concrete surface he had been so rudely slammed into, "What are you doing, let go!"
"Wait, dumbass. Don't you remember what Olympia said about purple challenges?"
"In addition to the regular challenge domains that will release more puppets as a consequence, there will be three special domains that will assign handicaps instead. Those domains will be marked with a purple barrier and the only way to remove handicaps will be one single restoration domain. It will be marked with a light green barrier."
America blinked a few times before realizing what Russia was talking about. They had been unlucky enough to step into one of the three handicap domains.
He had no problem dealing with armies of puppets but he wasn't so thrilled at the thought of a mystery hindrance, especially this early on. He already had enough experience with that, courtesy of FVEY and his wheel.
With a reluctant huff, he swung himself upright and begrudgingly grabbed Russia's hand to pull himself back up. It seemed that for this particular puzzle, they had no choice but to work together.
The first few sections weren't too hard but when they made it into the chamber that led to the exit, the walls suddenly slammed shut and the space crumbled until all that was left was their cube-shaped chamber that was suspended in midair.
At this point, they were pretty sure that this was not supposed to happen and neither wanted to stick around. They didn't care if they would be given a handicap. They just wanted to get out.
"What the hell is going on out there?" America growled as he tried to destroy the walls but to no avail. None of his attacks, both physical and elemental, made a single scratch on the surface. Ame retracted his hand as he glanced at his throbbing fingers.
"Damn, these walls are tougher than NATO's pectorals."
The room suddenly began to hum as strange, unseen mechanics whirred to life. The walls began to glow in an array of strange, foreign symbols arranged in a row.
From the center of the room, a small hatch opened and a strange stone table for two rose with a rotting wooden board. Faint scratches on the board showed a total of 30 tiles, 3 rows and 10 tiles per row. A couple of the tiles had more of those strange symbols that probably made up a form of language but they still had no idea what any of them meant which was odd.
As countryhumans, language barriers were no problem for them since all of them would be immediately translated into their own. But there was an exception to this natural ability.
"A forgotten language, huh." America mused to himself as he traced his fingers over the symbols on the wall. "But they look really familiar though so where have I seen them before?"
Russia shrugged and decided to leave Ame to it. Instead, he turned his attention to the table and board game that had popped out from the ground.
The board itself was simple to figure out.
They would start in the upper left corner and move to the right, then to the left in the middle row and right again on the bottom row. They had a clear arrow that pointed the directions and towards the last tile on the bottom right.
There were two pieces placed upon the board but Russia recognized them immediately. These were pieces from their chess set, a white king and a black king.
'How did these get here?' he wondered to himself.
A strange bunch of sticks lay on the side with a range of symbols, possibly an equivalent to dice. On the stone stools, one was blank but the other, a strange symbol was etched into the surface. It looked like a bird but with a human face.
Russia shuddered as he touched it and decided that he would rather sit on the blank stool and let Ame plant his butt onto the birdface thing. But to his horror, when he looked around the room to where Ame was standing, he was nowhere to be seen.
He was alone in the room. Or that's what he thought until he felt someone's stare on the back of his neck.
"Hey sit down will ya, let's start the game."
Russia nearly tripped over himself when someone suddenly appeared in front of him. The stranger flashed him a very familiarly coy, attractive smile and picked up the white king piece.
'How did they get there?!'
Though his face was hidden by a translucent, black veil, there was no mistaking the fact that he looked eerily identical to America but Russia instinctively knew that this man was not his partner. This man's presence was far more... sinister.
His hair was swept back neatly and an old but lavish uniform was worn under his coat. The veil on his face made it hard to see anything other than his grinning lips and pointed teeth but he could tell he also had three pitch black eyes. The only difference was his pupils were the color of copper and glowed dangerously beneath his shadowy lashes.
Handsome? Most definitely but there was something about him that repulsed Russia so much that it was hard for him to keep his gaze on him. The man seemed to notice but his smirk only grew as he dusted off the game board.
"I can see why Ame fancies you. You're quite an attractive guy, I will admit."
This statement caught Russia completely off guard and he felt his face begin to heat up but before he could defend himself, the other let out a fit of giggles. It was clear that he knew which of his buttons to push.
"Even so, it's disgusting," he sighed. "Of course he would desire a man– to him, nothing is too sinful, it's insane! Then again, he's able to toy with death itself so who am I to judge."
Russia wasn't sure where to start. Toy with death? Ame fancies him?!
The man had called America insane but in his eyes, he was the farthest from being sane out of all of them but that was a topic the man seemed to have lost interest in.
Instead, he twirled America's black king piece around before placing it on the end tile instead of the start. Russia glanced at the board, confused but fortunately, the man took the liberty to finally explain the situation he had gotten himself into.
"This game is an ancient one called Senet and in the right hands, it can be a conduit through which the dead can communicate with the living. Apparently, the game symbolizes a funny little concept that people call the afterlife. A soul, which is represented by that bird face symbol, will travel from the start of the board and end in the afterlife. Quite simple, isn't it?"
"So why are you starting in the afterlife tile?" Russia pointed out but part of him already seemed to have guessed as a lump of dread lodged into his throat. The man picked up on his unease and nodded.
"Well that's because I'm not trying to go to the afterlife. I'm trying to get back to the start and if I win... well, I think you can figure out what would happen. I know your sweetheart wouldn't like it," he snickered as he flaunted America's piece like a toy to tempt a dog.
Before Russia could react, the veiled player picked up the four sticks and tossed them. Three of them clattered with the flat side facing up. The king piece moved three tiles out of the afterlife.
Russia picked up the sticks and realized that his hand was trembling but it was not out of fear or anxiety. It was something more complex; a feeling he couldn't possibly describe with words.
If what he had gathered was correct, then this game was probably a gamble made with America's life. And though this guy seriously rubbed him the wrong way, he intrigued him too. Whoever he was, he seemed well acquainted with America and to the secrets he was hiding. This was an opportunity to learn what he wanted to know.
Russia tossed the sticks and all four of them landed with their round, painted sides up. The other whistled, impressed by the good roll.
"You know you still haven't introduced yourself yet but it seems that you and America are pretty close," Russia remarked as he walked his piece five tiles forward. "If you don't mind me asking-"
The man tossed his sticks and moved forward 2 tiles and his face twitched a bit. He seemed to think for a second before shrugging whatever he was thinking off.
"Oh where are my manners," he smiled as he tapped his lip thoughtfully. "For simplicity, you can just call me Confederate, though I'm sure Ame has made sure that you've never heard of me. And if I were to guess what you're about to ask, it's about Sunfire, isn't it?"
He suddenly began to chuckle as if he had just thought of the funniest thing in the world, threw back his head and let out another string of unbridled laughter before he suddenly burst into the unforgettable wicked golden flames that destroyed all it touched. The stone stool began to melt into a molten puddle and the floor began to ripple, attempting desperately to regenerate as quickly as it was being destroyed. The toxic vanilla scent choked the air as the room became increasingly unbearably hot.
The fire that shrouded his figure was undoubtedly the same Sunfire that America wielded yet oddly, the flames didn't hurt this guy at all. With a snap, the flames lowered until only a tiny flicker danced around Confederate's palm, illuminating his face. The mischievous smile he had worn the entire time finally slipped off his shrouded face.
"What else? Who am I to him... how do I know him? That's quite simple. Let's just say, it's not easy to forget the one person who completely screwed me over," he chuckled halfheartedly before sending a small flicker of Sunfire darting past Russia, making him flinch.
Flabbergasted after having all his words ripped from his mouth, Russia tried to respond but Confederate stood up and hushed him by pressing his finger against the other's lips.
"How did I know? I heard you asking about Sunfire's origin a while ago. You're an observant one, I'll give you that," he mused. "He didn't tell you anything, did he? I guess he's still resentful about what he did then.
Confederate's aura suddenly became crushingly bitter and the board began to smolder under his burning gaze. Reading the mood in the room, Russia instinctively tensed up in case he needed to react to any threats. He also instinctively leaned back a bit but suddenly, found a pair of hands cupped around his neck. Whirling around, he found Confederate's shrouded face mere inches away from his. His reflexes immediately drew his arm back to retaliate but the other was quicker, slamming him down, pinning him against the table.
"I pity you all, truly. All of you have been deluded by that monster's charming facade. His secrets are plentiful. Perhaps killing you would be the most merciful thing to do."
This was his breaking point. The temperature plummeted and a massive spear of ice shot out from the ground to impale his attacker and crush him against the ceiling. Russia rolled onto his side and collapsed against the floor to catch his breath but a delighted chuckle sounded from above him.
His blood turned to ice as he slowly turned to face the ceiling.
Confederate was smiling down at him, lounging comfortably and completely ignoring the fact that a pillar of ice just poked a giant hole in his stomach.
"That's cute. Really," he sighed as he dragged his finger across the frigid surface and the ice melted instantly, dropping him back onto the ground. "But c'mon I was obviously joking. I'd gladly spill America's dirty secrets to anyone who's willing to listen."
Russia was still hung up on the empty hole in Confederate's abdomen. With a wound like that, he would be pretty dead by now. But he was still lying in the ground with a seductive grin and not a drop of blood was present. He didn't even seem to be made of flesh at all and his gaping hole slowly faded like it was never there in the first place. Even his clothes had mended. Confederate brushed himself off and sat back down on the regenerated stone stool with the symbol of a bird with a human face– the symbol for soul.
"This game is an ancient one called Senet and in the right hands, it can be a conduit through which the dead can communicate with the living."
"Just... who exactly are you?" Russia asked, his voice barely a whisper. Confederate paused for a moment before he lifted his veil, revealing his red flag, crossed with blue stripes and stars. Three molten copper eyes stared into his ice gray ones, forcing his heart to skip a beat.
"My name is Confederate States of America and I was killed so that your 'America' could steal my Sunfire."
AUTHOR'S NOTES: damn that took a while to compile. Ngl a bit more research for folklore and Senet went into this one but I feel like it's worth it for me.
I hope you enjoyed it too ❤️
mmm time to air out some of Ame's dirty laundry U_U
next time of course... whenever that is...
But for now, I'll leave your brains to run wild <3
and ngl I frickin love reading ur theories so feel free to do so U_U
flaunt your smartness
I'm going to dread the start of the new school year