(RUSSIA POV)
"I must say, this is quite awkward for the both of us."
The hazy smell of incense and smoke slowly cleared out of my lungs as pins and needles stabbed at my body. I groaned as all the blood rushed from my head, prompting me to wonder how long I had been out for. According to my aching muscles, it was far too long.
I was back in the eternally frozen hellscape that was perpetually pummeled by snowstorms but this time, the air was still and soft against my skin. Even the sky looked a little bluer than usual as soft sunrays broke through the never moving clouds. It was... peaceful?
My vision eventually focused on the figure in front of me who was wearing a grim smirk under his dark veil. The rest of his body was surrounded by a layer of blurriness, smudging out his old uniform.
My eyes narrowed as I took a few wary steps back, remembering our previous encounter, "What are you doing here? Why are you in my dream? Weren't you eaten by that snake god thing?-"
"Hey now, let's not talk about that," he shushed, clearly still flustered about that. "I will admit, that didn't go how I wanted it to but it is what it is."
"It's also precisely why I'm here seeing you right now," he tilted his head, fixing his gaze on me, "This time, I depart for good so hear me out, will you?"
I was tempted to say no, to turn right back around and ignore everything he said and did. It was my dream after all. How dare he leave me to die and then intrude like this?
Then again, he was the only way I could get any answers about America right now. I knew I would regret it if I didn't listen so I lent him my ears. He smiled, a genuine, relieved smile.
"Thank you, Russia. I'll make it worth your while," he assured me but I couldn't help but bite back.
"Worth my while? Just like how you made it 'worth my while' back on the scale?"
He grimaced a little, "Back on the scale, I know I didn't answer your last question truthfully," he admitted with a shrug, " –but it's simply because I still don't fully understand what his power is. Honestly, I don't think he does either."
"But I can tell you have an idea of what it might be," I replied.
His expression softened a little and he nodded sheepishly.
He stepped back and his black veil loosened over his face as he lifted his face toward the sky, basking in the soft winter sun. His body was more of a hazy silhouette at this point but I sat down next to him and he began to recall.
I listened to his tale, his story and I felt my gaze slowly turning away. As much as I hated to admit it, I pitied him. Just a bit. Fate was cruel and he had learned to accept it. At least in these final moments of existence, he would be able to find some solace.
When I looked up again, he was gone without a trace. Devoured by chaos, erased from the world as if he had never existed in the first place and now, only two would keep his memory alive. The familiar sweet scent that once made me sick was now mellow and pleasant. A warm golden glow hovered over me.
The sun, his final gift. I watched the gold wash over diamond snow as I felt myself stir.
The next thing I knew, I found myself waking up in America's arms.
(NOBODY POV)
...
The signal fired into the skies above, announcing the arrival of the new hour and its corresponding wave of new enemies. Mechanical clicks and whirs made their way through the blotted forest with the occasional clamor that arose as contestants fought the creatures off.
A small group of said metallic creatures had gathered on the banks of a rushing river that snaked through the entire arena. They lounged around in the sunny clearing, minding their own business and recharging their energy before an abrupt gust of freezing wind rattled through like a trumpeting fanfare.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Poland howled, clinging to Germany for dear life as they throttled over the river, following it downstream. Russia had America slung over his shoulder with one arm while the other grazed the water's surface, sending shining sheets of ice rippling in front of them.
The puppets had no time to escape before huge slabs crushed them into the ground.
"Russia, could we please slow down a little?!" Germany hollered over the wind that was plowing into them. He was numbly white-knuckle gripping onto Russia's jacket just to avoid being flung away and not to mention Poland, still flying behind him like an unfurled banner.
"NO NO, GO FASTER! FASTERRRRRR!" America giggled, still disoriented from having his brain short-circuit. Clearly.
"Oh, good to see you're lucid enough to talk again," Germany hissed as Russia slowly guided their glacial path to a stop. Poland collapsed like a brick and began to thaw out in the sunniest spot.
"Mmh. Somebody roll down the window agaiiiiin," America complained as Russia placed him onto the ground. "That breeze was really nice."
"We weren't in a car you know..."
Germany glanced at the charm that Red Cross and Red Crescent had given them. It was glowing with a fierce crimson hue now, signaling that they were closing in on the challenge location.
"How are you holding up?" Germany asked the Russian who was doing his best to tune out Ame's nonsensical ramblings. He had been using his Awakening pretty moderately but because of his shackles, there was no telling when he would run out of energy. Germany was not looking to take a swim today.
"I'm feeling a little tired," Russia admitted as he flexed his fingers, making sure the numbness hadn't set in yet. "I slept pretty well though. We'll make it."
After a while of resting, they prepared to continue moving.
"OH COME ON NOT AGAIN," Poland huffed, his feathers ruffling in displeasure, "I just brought my body temperature back to normal! Can't I just fly above you guys?"
Germany gave him a pitying smile, "Sorry Pol, we talked about this. We aren't looking for any trouble until we can get their shackles off. If you fly, the others may spot you."
"And you can't hover around us with the winter winds blowing, "Russia finished, "Just take my coat. It may help a bit."
He tossed his ragged but warm coat to Poland, who wrapped it around himself begrudgingly. Compared to him, it looked more like a robe than a coat.
America folded his arms and whined, "Awwww how come don't I get a coat?"
"Didn't you say you felt too hot?"
"Oh yeaaaah."
After skidding over the water and burying a couple more enemies along the way, the river veered off into the thickets and led them no further. The charm was practically blinding now, pointing directly into a clearing that branched off to one side. Russia stepped off the frozen waters with America in tow.
"You two go ahead. We'll hold down the fort in the meantime," Germany assured them. "Go get those chains off."
"Now can I fly?" Poland huffed as he shook the coat off to stretch his wings. Germany chuckled and with a nod, the two pairs went their separate ways.
Ame stretched and shook his head as his senses slowly refocused. He flexed his fingers and felt his power slowly replenish itself. Though his temperature was still burning hotter than he would have liked, he would be fine in a fight. The buzzing confusion and fatigue that had been messing with his head were mostly gone.
This feels nice, America decided with a cheeky grin to himself. 'I should have him carry me around more often.'
The path led down a steep hill and under a fallen tree. The tall country frowned as he sized up the gap, wondering if he would be able to squeeze under it at all.
Oh to hell with it, he decided at last as he crouched down. "Ame, do you think you can crawl through first?"
He scoffed as he lowered himself onto the ground, "Of course. I'm not the giant beanpole here." He slipped through the gap with no problem and flashed him a smug grin. He tugged on the chain, prompting the other to hurry up and follow him through. Russia scowled and pressed his hands against the top, adamant about not hitting his head on the tree.
Once they had both stepped through, the area lit up in a soothing green light that morphed the surroundings into a plain, empty dimension that spun slowly around them. Russia stumbled as he felt himself lift off the ground. America tried his best to stay in place as well but his efforts were futile. Instead, he settled for simply grabbing onto the other.
The perfectly blank, cubic dimension held them captive. With a flick of his wrist, Ame sent a steady jet of fire behind them, attempting to move them forward but though they rocketed forward, they never left the center of the room. It was as if the room was moving with them, fixing them in the center no matter what. There were no clear instructions, signs and otherwise present. It was just them and the shackles.
Ame craned his neck as he studied the seemingly seamless walls, so spotless that only faint shadows defined any form whatsoever. He sent an orange spark slamming into the walls, only to immediately fizzle out.
"Ah, this room," he sighed with a slight whine in his voice. "NASA's handiwork is too good sometimes."
He pointed to the wall and Russia sent a small shard flying into it, only to see it dematerialize before their eyes. No way out, it seemed. With no more bright ideas, America pulled out the pendant that Red Cross had given him.
It pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat before a small, charming voice rang out from within it.
"Ah, you two finally made it," Red Cross hummed. "Yes, yes, what is it? Olympia told me that I'm limited to one question so do you need me to explain anything?"
"I... didn't know that was a feature," America admitted under his breath, kind of wishing that he knew about this help menu function earlier. "So what are we supposed to do here?"
Red Cross huffed, slightly amused, "Of all people, I would have expected you to have figured at least the first part out by now."
"There are more parts to this thing?" Russia perked up. "I thought this was going to be simple."
"Simple, yes. Easy, no. There is a difference," she continued, her voice crackling from time to time. "First of all, as you might have noticed, this space is indestructible to most known things. Such is the genius of your space agency. Secondly, all your limiters, excluding the shackles, as well as your devices have been deactivated. Signals like the overhead cameras and projections cannot penetrate into this place. They will immediately reactivate once you leave."
"And how do we leave?" America raised an eyebrow. He gestured to the empty room, despite not knowing if the Red Cross could even see them.
"You have to break the shackles that are holding you two back. That is all."
They could both hear the smile in her words and immediately grew suspicious. They had grown wary of hidden or double meanings and this time, they were sure there was something more to it. Too bad they didn't get the chance to question it.
"The trial ends once you manage to do so. Or if you run out of space. Good luck!"
"Wait, space? What space-"
Russia didn't get to finish his sentence before the pendant dimmed back to normal, returning to a useless rock on some string. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long before his question was answered by the room.
Muffled clunks and clicks, whirrs and hisses that came from somewhere beyond the walls could be heard and the pair tuned their ears towards it.
"I don't know if I like the sound of that," America admitted as he wracked his brain. Red Cross had said that there were two or more parts to this challenge, the first part being the removal of their shackles. Somehow.
"But she also said that the challenge ends once we do," Russia finished his thoughts. "So what are the other parts supposed to be?"
"I don't know. Damnit, those guys and their mind games," the other growled as he fervently ran his hands through his hair. Shackles, shackles. Remove the shackles. Remove the shackles and you will be done. The shackles that hold you back.
That hold you back.
"Is it possible that there is more than one shackle on us?"
They stared at each other for a moment, the gears in their heads turning in unison before they began to frantically look for other restrictions that may have been placed on them.
"Nope, it's exactly as Red Cross said," Russia confirmed as a gleaming sheet of Core Polaris formed in his palm. "All other restrictions are gone. I can freely use my power right now."
Gold sparks flickered for a moment so that he could see for himself as well. Though he never let them blaze fully to life, he could see the other flinch ever so slightly at the sight of something that intrigued him. Before Russia could say anything, America quashed the glimmers in his fist.
"Well, first thing's first then. Let's see if we can get rid of these cuffs," he suggested as he pointed at the chain. "Since this place is apparently indestructible, we won't have to worry about collateral damage, right?"
The Russian nodded in agreement, also quite desperate to get out of the chains. It was decided that the first order of business was to actually break the connecting chain. It was just too big of an obstacle in the heat of battle. Even more so than the energy cut.
"You first, then I go," America instructed as they pulled the chain taunt. Well, as taunt as possible to put the greatest distance between them. Once both were ready, Russia clutched onto the chains and his touch immediately sent crackling veins of frost clawing over the metal bands. His eyes began to glow from their resting silver to chilling blues as the temperature around them continued to fall. America couldn't help but shiver, his limbs growing numb from the cold despite his fiery nature. He didn't dare activate his Awakening to keep himself warm, however. The temperature had to be sudden, severe enough to break the Awakening-resistant material, if it were possible at all.
Finally, the Russian let go, leaving the metal frozen stiff like a piece of uncooked spaghetti. America rolled up his sleeve and his hand began to glow, courtesy of his partial Awakening. This time, however, he wasn't doing so to save energy, he was simply focusing it all in one place for assured success.
From sunny orange, to blinding white, the tips of his fingers even began to tip with the muddled violets of the hottest natural flame he could muster. Russia did notice, however, that the infamous gold was nowhere to be seen. He was still being ever so cautious after the argument they had last night.
As soon as his palm touched the frozen metal, an earsplitting whistle erupted from the surface like a kettle about to boil over. America's brows were knit tightly together, as he gripped the chain as hard as he could and yanked. With a deafening snap and pop, the links could hold no longer. A rumbling explosion ripped them apart, together with the chain and they slammed into opposite ends of the room, finally freed from one another.
Russia lay against the feelingless wall as he caught his breath, not wanting to move knowing that every jolt would only hurt more. He had enough experience with getting slammed into the ground to know it. America stared at him from the other side with the exact same thoughts, both laying in stillness as they gathered their bearings.
Bits and pieces of broken, blackened metal drifted between them, from where the chain had been severed. The remaining pieces that connected to their shackles were soon unhooked and discarded as well once they had regained their composure.
"You're bleeding," Russia noticed as he gestured to America's hand before taking it in his own. Sure enough, there were ugly gashes that ran across his scarred but delicate fingers where the metal had bit into his skin. "You didn't have to do that so violently, you know. It was going to break anyway."
"I... yeah I guess I was just acting off of adrenaline," he chuckled as he edged away slightly. A shudder ran up his arm from where their hands touched, bouncing around inside him like a rubber ball. America clenched his uninjured hand in an attempt to hide that stupid reaction. Honestly, what the hell was going on with him? Not again.
"I'll be fine, I promise," he quickly said as he pulled his hand away, a little forcibly. He had to keep himself together if they were to win this thing goddamnit. Russia peered at him, perplexed. America was acting weird again but he allowed it to slide on the account of more pressing matters. They had regained their autonomous mobility. Great. Now what?
A soft click came again and the muffled whirrings were back but this time, they could see what exactly was happening. The walls, though very gradually, were sneaking inwards. They couldn't tell before but on second thought, the room did seem smaller than before. The duo's eyes widened as they finally remembered what Red Cross had said.
Run out of space, this was what she had meant.
"The room is going to keep shrinking..." Russia trailed off, "...until we're ejected."
"Look, the walls stopped moving though," America pointed out as the rumbling ceased. "So that begs the question, are these intervals random? Or is there something that triggers it to shrink?"
Russia shook his head in dismissal, "I'm not sure but I don't care right now. Let's first get the rest of these shackles off."
...
Cer, Ber and Ros finished off the last puppet, its parts reduced to nothing more than mediocre chew toys for the hyperactive pups. Germany brushed a piece of metal off his shoulder as he watched Poland rustle through the accumulating pile of scrap.
"Ah there you are," Poland grinned as he pulled out a wriggling mechanical lizard by the tail before crushing it underfoot. "Aaaand that makes 145 points for me."
He thrust his chin into the air with a cocky smirk but Germany countered.
"160," he grinned, unable to keep a straight face as Poland's confidence morphed into phony dismay.
"Aw come on that's hardly fair though! It's four against one, basically," he exclaimed as he gestured at the dogs who were still tossing and wrestling with the mechanical hides. When Poland addressed them, they stopped momentarily to see what the fuss was about.
Germany laughed, "Well, I'm sure for someone as fast as you, that should pose no problem, right?" Poland slumped, his wings drooping in defeat as Ros trotted up to him and placed a wrangled bird puppet at his feet, like a consolidation prize. Poland sighed and patted his head, unable to stay mad at the doggies.
"Yeah, it doesn't. Just watch, I'll tie up the score real quick."
"You're on," Germany grinned, happy that he had his game face back on and the two dove back into the nearby thickets, rounding up the thinning number of enemies and accumulating points.
20 minutes later, there was nothing left to fight. Poland itched to move out further and expand their hunting grounds but Germany shook his head.
"We still need to guard those two while they free themselves, remember? Any further and we risk someone or something slipping past us."
Poland frowned, "Right, I know. But seriously, how long are they going to take in there? It's been nearly half an hour now.
"Do you think it was a good idea to let them go in together like that? Especially with what happened last night and that domain malfunction?"
Germany bit his lip in worry. He had been trying to keep it off his mind but those factors did worry him.
He still remembered how angry they looked as they stared down each other back at the hotel. Despite how calm Russia acted, despite allowing himself to be restrained, he could still feel the burning frustration emanating from him. And America... he looked like a wolf with its fangs bared, a cornered animal.
Russia had clearly touched on a forbidden topic, one that America wasn't ready to talk about. Even after an entire morning together, they still acted tense toward each other. It did improve later on but there was still some underlying unrest that had to be sorted out for them to truly move forward.
Germany shook the worries out of his head before he began to spiral.
"I trust that they'll do the right thing," Germany finally decided. "They've already come this far, this is just another step they have to take together."
Poland nodded along, "Yeah. Those two act like dumbasses all the time but I think they're scary good at what they do when they want to be. They'll be fine as long as they don't do anything reckless."
Germany glanced toward the path that America and Russia had disappeared down and with a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet, knowing that worrying wouldn't do them any good. Instead, they should fulfill their roles as Hunters to the best of their abilities.
"I see a puppet just a little downstream from here. Race you!"
...
America slammed his wrist against the walls, again and again in desperation but the searing cuffs would not break no matter what.
"Just give it a rest already! Brute strength clearly won't work," Russia barked, his cuff still very much intact as well. The walls began to grind, pushing closer and closer. The room was barely a quarter of the size it used to be. Russia's feet finally touched the ground for the first time as the ceiling was basically ramming against his head now.
America wrung his hands, determined not to bite at his nails but panic was really starting to set in. They couldn't do what they had done with the chain since the cuffs were too near the other for it to be safe. America didn't feel like having his hand frostbitten off and Russia didn't want to be barbecued.
"Well, what do we do then?!" America demanded, his eyes flaring angrily. "We haven't even figured out where the second shackle is!"
The room rumbled, pressing them ever closer. It seemed that the intervals in which the walls moved were getting shorter and the walls were moving even more than before. It was as if it had completely given up on being discrete.
Russia glowered at the other as he continued to draw blanks. A second shackle? They couldn't even completely remove the first!
"Use your unbreakable ice!" America suggested. "See if you can stop the room from shrinking more."
"You think I haven't already tried that?" Russia spat back. The room crept closer. The space grew tighter.
America was forced onto the ground as Russia knelt. He was too tall to stand anymore.
"Great! There goes any chance at trying anything else then," America huffed as he hugged his knees closer to his chest. "Now I can't even use my Awakening without burning your face off. Thanks, Russia. This was pointless!
"Oh, this is my fault now?!" Russia snapped. It was getting hard to even glare at him now, the space was crushing them together.
"Yeah! You were the one who suggested we try to get the cuffs off first! If we had figured out why the room moves, I might not have to be here with you breathing down my neck right now!"
"You're one to talk! You clearly could have freed yourself whenever you wanted! Why didn't you just use that power you stole?!" he yelled back but as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it. America's face flushed red and his lips pressed into a rigid line but he didn't yell anything back this time. He was frozen between anger and shock.
A lump rose in Russia's throat, a sickening feeling as he watched twinges of pain flash across the other's face. He didn't mean it, he knew he didn't and he wanted to swallow it. Shit, this is what happened when he didn't think twice about his words. Now America was probably going to hate him and their relationship would never be mended.
These were the kinds of thoughts that raced through his head and it sort of surprised him.
"... That was out of line," Russia mumbled after a while of silence. "I- I didn't mean that, I'm sorry."
America sighed as he brushed the hair out of his eyes. They were smoldering, with no more fight left in him to deny it anymore.
"I assume he told you everything then, seeing how long you slept?"
Yes, he no longer looked angry. Weariness poked through his flawless complexion and for the first time in a long while, he looked truly tired.
"Mostly. Well, that and I was tired. I didn't sleep well the night before." Russia replied as he stared at the walls. They weren't moving anymore as if the room was holding its breath.
The corners of his mouth tugged up slightly, an attempt at a smile, "So then, you probably have questions for me?"
Russia glanced away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. Unlike his usual demeanor, this felt heavy, hard to bear, a burden he carried on his own for so long and now, he was going to share it.
"Are you... are you sure? Only if you are ready to."
He found his fingers twined with the other's as America pushed himself upright. There was a look in his eyes as if he was saying, 'I have to, before I wimp out again.' Russia gave his hand a little squeeze, assuring that he would listen.
"I'm sure." America took in a breath as he wondered where to begin.
...
The first moments of my life are the ones I reminisce about the most.
I still remember the first time, opening my eyes to a dark sky, glistening with stars that blinked back. I remember my first thought, not of confusion or concern, but of wonder.
I lay silently in the grassy meadow, simply marveling at the sky until I thought of what other things were there for me to bear witness to. Only then did I sit up and begin my journey into the world. Only one thought would resonate with me.
"How blessed am I, to be able to admire the things I see."
Only later, after long days and nights of looking outwards did I turn my attention to other things.
Years? Decades? Centuries? A millennium? I had no understanding of time but I slowly learned to follow the course of the light in the sky. I also quickly discovered the seasons that changed the views I thought I knew into completely different landscapes.
Winter intrigued me the most. Despite its harshness and bitter cold that forced all life to a standstill, I could still appreciate the clear white plains and ice that glittered like diamonds under the sun. I could watch little footprints dart to and fro through the forests and valleys like imprints in time. It was due to these prints that I stumbled into a little settlement where I found the curious eyes of a new creature staring back at me.
I was a little taken aback at first at how similar we looked. I had walked with many forms of life, from fluffy beasts to scaly critters but this was the first time I had seen a human. They seemed surprised at my arrival as well, goggling as I stood naked and unbothered in knee-deep snow. Of course, they took me in and I quickly grew fond of them.
Humans were fascinating, far more complex than anything I had ever seen up until that point. Their mouths moved and articulate sounds pieced together things that others would react to, something I later learned to be language and communication, and with it, there would sometimes be pleasant ringing sounds that accompanied it. Songs, they called it. They also created things that I helped them make up for the natural prowess they seemed to lack. Other times, it was for decoration or story purposes.
I learned much and loved them from the depths of my being. It didn't take long for me to begin replicating everything that they did, as if it were my destiny. I was one of them, were I not? But the priest, a stooped, slow human adorned with many many things said otherwise. He was far stranger than all I knew but I loved him for that.
"Child of earth," he would address me with a warm, whispering voice, "You are not one of us, but you are us. "
He was right. I wasn't like them. I was never cold, nor hot. I was never hungry, yet never full. I never fatigued, never weakened and possessed senses and strength that surpassed the others.
Most astonishingly, I never aged in the years I spent with them. Even when the infant I had witnessed the birth of turned old and grey, I remained as I always had.
"Child of earth, what do you say? Who are you then?" A new human, less stooped and weak but just as decorated would ask me.
"Am I not your protector?" I tilted my head in confusion but I already knew that answer would no longer satisfy my questions. It wasn't who was I, it was what was I.
That night, I slipped out of the settlement and returned to where I came from to ponder that very thing.
As I moved through the land, I began to pay more attention to myself, surprising myself on many occasions. I tested the limits to my strength and found it almost unimaginable but that only confirmed my mistaken identity for all those years. At this point, I was more of a natural disaster than a creature, like some feelingless mountain decided to randomly come to life. It disheartened me a little but I pressed forward. This was how my life went for the next few centuries until I reached the coast where a huge surprise awaited me.
Throughout my time journeying northward, I had caught faint glimpses of more human presences that I had never seen before. How strange, I had thought but paid no further attention to. This place, however, was impossible to ignore.
The refreshing sea breeze that I was no stranger to also brought along the new clamor and bustle of the town that seemed to have appeared overnight. In the distance, I could also see the massive, majestic watercrafts that sat aloof in the waves. A piece of billowing cloth decorated with colorful shapes waved in the sky, as if announcing their presence loud and proud for all to see.
Of course, this curious sight sparked a fire of excitement in me that had been dormant for years now and with a skip in my step, I lowered myself down the hillside and headed into town to cure my unspeakable boredom.
Only when I arrived at the gate of this place did I realize just how big it was. The walls that looked like tiny matchsticks from afar loomed over my head , cutting off the sky beyond it and immediately, I wanted to turn back around and reconsider my choices but a rough voice stopped me in my tracks.
"WHO GOES THERE?!" Footsteps rounded the corner as a person holding a strange stick in their hand appeared.
My eyes lit up in delight. It was a human but for some reason, he didn't look happy to see me.
He began to move his mouth again as he slowly came closer, pointing the stick at me as he approached. I frowned, confused, as I found myself unable to understand the sounds he was making. It was new to me and I wasn't sure if I liked it. Upon further investigation, his clothes were completely different too, not to mention the stick thing he was waving around in my face. I took a few steps back, unsure how to react. He was human, was he not? Then why was he different from the other humans I had met?
"Joseph, stop shouting, you weary wretch," another voice said, this one far more relaxed as another human strolled up to the other. They were wearing the same thing and he too had a stick. When the newcomer spotted me, however, he did not point a stick at me.
"Well isn't this curious? Who's this young fry?" he regarded me with curiosity equaling my own as he knelt down, "Where did you come from?"
I could only stare back and did my best to show my confusion. It seemed like he understood though and the human nudged the other, urging him to put the stick down. I already knew who I liked better.
They escorted me into the town and I couldn't help but let my eyes wander, drinking in all the sights. Humans were bustling around, busy and lively like there was too much to be done. There was a huge stream of people parading through the other side from where the ocean was. There were some that were dressed just like the two humans behind me while others carried things in their hands. I was eager to go get a closer look.
"Hey, not on my watch, you little troublemaker," the first human growled as he grabbed me by the scruff. I jolted back in surprise at the sudden touch. No one had grabbed me before and I rather disliked it as scenes from my travels flashed into my head. A wolf, latching onto the neck of its prey, a bird with fish clutched in its talons, humans, with their hands, snapping a pheasant's neck and draining their blood. I shuddered and allowed my instincts to take over for a moment.
I bucked, ripping myself free from his grasp by squeezing his wrist. I didn't get to see the surprise on his face as he yelled out in pain because I was already running away.
That was probably not a smart move, I realized as more humans with their sticks, rushed over at the sound of his howls. It was an ugly noise but seriously –did I really do something so wrong?
I darted through the crowd, in a panicked frenzy, scattering the shocked humans to the sides as they made way for the men with sticks who were trying to grab me. I refused to be caught, I thought to myself as I glanced over my shoulder to see their furious expressions but that was the moment that I slammed into something in front of me, forcing me to fall back onto my back. It hurt! I glanced up to see a man looking down at me with an unfazed but intrigued expression. I stared back, awestruck. This must be their priest or something. He was decorated more than anyone there. There was another standing behind him as well, a little child like myself who stared in bewilderment. He was also decorated with funny wavy frills but was clearly not as important as the tall man.
"My lord!" the men screamed as they made their way over but they stopped when he held up his hand. Immediately, they backed away as he knelt down to my height, silently studying me. I suddenly felt myself shrink under his gaze, a new feeling that froze my body stiff. I didn't understand what was going on and this man... he put me on edge. I wanted to run away but that didn't get me anywhere before.
I was about to try anyway but he suddenly smiled, a warm, beautiful expression that brought new speckles of light into his eyes. He chuckled as he stuck out his hand.
"Well isn't this a wonderful surprise," he spoke, his voice as powerful as the beaming sun that carried the sky with it. "I thought I would have to go out and find you, not the other way around."
The little boy stepped out of his shadow, the surprise wearing off into critique, and tugged on the man's arm, "Father, is that him? Is that who I have to-"
The man waved him off with a glance and he retreated back behind him so he could focus his attention back on me, his smile returning to his face.
I blinked, stunned into silence as I realized that I understood every word they had said. It was exactly the same as the sounds the other two humans had been using but this time, I understood. The man smiled as if he could read my thoughts.
"I am the British Empire. Pray tell, child of this land, do you have a name?"
I opened my mouth but found no name to give. I shook my head. He seemed pleased with that response and nodded to his men.
"Then we shall give you a name."
...
Russia had already heard the next little part of his story. Confederate had told him most if not all of it already but hearing it from him was a whole other experience.
America was quick to learn and grow. It was clear that they both agreed that he quickly became the favorite child which was the first major wedge driven between them. Even after the Empire had left to oversee the conflict back in his homeland, Ame held most of the control and respect of the people and the Confederate was driven further into obscurity.
Russia watched as emotions flooded the other country's face as he recounted the distant past. It astonished him how expressive and vulnerable he suddenly seemed. He had forgotten about the mask of confidence, the golden smile that stuck so closely to his real lips that they were nearly indistinguishable. He had forgotten how well Ame could hide his real self beneath untold layers and curtains.
It seemed that every time Russia thought he knew him, he would notice new cracks in that facade that led to new depths. Just how deep would this journey take him?
America paused, sensing that Russia's mind had wandered off. He wasn't paying attention to his pathetic past anymore. He was paying attention to him. A bud of color rose into his skin and he quickly cleared his throat.
"Sorry, I'm starting to ramble now, aren't I?" America chuckled as Russia realized that he had been staring. How rude of him.
He shook his head and America laughed, skipping ahead a little to speed things up. This felt nice, he decided. He never really spoke about himself, which was odd because he always spoke about himself, joking about how hot or awesome he was. No, he had never really talked about his... real self.
"Did Confederate tell you about our... battle?"
He had.
"It was during the war for independence, back when I went by a different name," he had said. "It was the first time I raised my gun at him and he raised his but neither of us fired. Instead, we charged with our bayonets.
"It was something we should have done a long time ago."
"It was a... tricky situation," America winced as if opening an old wound. "At first, he was brought here by the Empire to become my replacement. I was the natural child of the land so he was to challenge me, kill me, and become the next in my place so that the Empire would have control, like a puppet and his puppet master."
"So why didn't he? Was he too weak?"
America shook his head, "No, it was because I willingly, and perhaps stupidly, obliged. You don't need a whole new puppet if the old doll can still move. All you have to do is thread your strings around them." He shuddered a little at his own analogy.
"Only after I revolted, did the Empire begin to reorchestrate his plan to replace me but by that time, it was already too late."
Russia nodded, following along a little more closely now. This did align perfectly with what Confederate had said.
"I was grievously wounded and in my final moments. I Awakened in a blaze of fire but even that didn't save me. At that point, the old Empire took matters into his own hands and fatally injured America. He also Awakened, mere seconds after I did, but by then, I was already too dead to witness what happened next.
"You beat him, and Awakened."
He nodded, "You see, it's impossible for two countryhumans to exist in the same plane, in the same territory. Many have tried, yes, but it never ends well. What I said about Awakening from being stabbed in the head is only half true at best. Pain is a very effective catalyst but I Awakened because I was able to kill him and regain control of what was rightfully mine."
"...What do you mean?" Confederate had already alluded to this but Russia needed to confirm it.
"He Awakened first. I don't know how, I don't know why," America sighed his eyebrows knit together in deliberation. He closed his eyes, slowly piecing together the scene as he ran his bayonet through the other. He hated it, truly, but it was killed or be killed.
"I remember the look in his eyes just as he began to glow, so brightly and hot that I felt like I was staring into the sun itself. He erupted in flames, swallowing us both so I can understand how people from afar mistook it as my power instead. It was still too late to save him though and he knew it. As I pulled the blade out of his heart, I felt something stirring in me. It was... disgusting, I have to admit. I hated it. The Empire had told me stories of Awakening, like some glorified event that liberated the soul."
He shook his head, his face curdled in disgust. "It did not feel liberating at all. But before I could register what was going on, a new feeling was added and suddenly I was blooming with power. It was incredible, the feeling that I didn't even care that I was basically on fire."
"You were distracted," Russia remarked, amused at how in character that was. America smiled cheekily back, "Yeah, I was. So distracted in fact that the Empire was able to walk up and stick a sword straight into my forehead."
Russia stared at the smiling country, unsure what to say. How exactly does one respond to someone nonchalantly saying that they got stabbed in the head?
"How are you not dead?" he finally settled on but instead of laughing it off, America's eyes lit up with a new mischievous light.
"Ahhh now you're asking the interesting questions. It's actually a pretty well-guarded secret though so I can't tell you. Sorry, UN's orders."
"When did you start listening to anyone's orders," Russia scoffed but put it aside for now.
"So yeah, after that whole fiasco, I basically took control of things as I should have long ago. It was a bit strange for the people though since I looked like a toddler at first but they grew used to it. We did run into CSA again down the line, which gave me a nasty shock and then we fought. Naturally, he was still salty that I killed him but what surprised me was his power."
The Russian nodded. Confederate had expressed the same sort of bewilderment.
"I didn't regain my memories until far later. When I did, I reveled in my power and faced him a second time. Can you imagine my surprise when he unleashed the same fire as me?"
He had laughed, insanity poking into his velvet voice.
America frowned as he stared into space, which was a little hard because Russia was basically taking up the entire space in that tiny room.
"After the revolution, I chose to ignore the first feeling. It was a very difficult thing because it was a very powerful feeling that wouldn't die. It frightened me, honestly, but I persisted. I replaced it with the second, the bubbling, burning Awakening that made me feel alive. Eventually, I even convinced myself that it was my own ability after all."
"He claimed that his Awakening was the same as mine and I believed him for a while. I pondered for so long if I was just an inferior copy of him but after he took Sunfire, I realized it may be the other way around. His true Awakening has been kept tucked away this entire time but that's about all I can say for sure."
"Sunfire was a wake-up call, one that I was not ready for and one that I couldn't accept," America shook his head, anger and frustration flashing across his face before returning to a bittersweet smirk. "I didn't think I had to but... here we are."
Russia's gaze drifted down to where their hands were interlocked, his mind settled to allowing his childlike curiosity to peek through. His fingers absentmindedly began to trace over the other's palm as he wondered what power truly flowed through his veins. But was now the right time to ask, seeing how much distress it brought him?
America smiled, a beautiful, soft smile as he seemed to read the Russian's mind.
"Once, I also grew curious about it too so I dared to call on it." Ame watched, amused as Russia's eyes lit up, intrigued and waiting for him to go on.
"I'm sorry to say that nothing happened," he chuckled, regaining a bit of his cheeky nature. "Yeah, I didn't even know my own trigger. Once I buried it, it never resurfaced again."
"So in other words, you have no idea." Russia scowled, his hopes deflating before his very eyes. The other smirked, "At first, but then something did happen. I made a huge mistake and it attracted the attention of the reigning Power, the League of Nations."
The name left a foul taste on his mouth and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Flashes of memories of the hooded man, alleged to be LON, ripped through Russia's mind and he grimaced as well.
"At first, Sunfire was all LON had been interested in. He took me, saying it was all to help me master this unquenchable fire of mine but he later became aware of my hidden ability. He was devastatingly inquisitive and... ugh it was torture."
America grasped his head in his hands, refusing to relive that part. It was painful to even think about it, the countless untold experiments that were conducted but either way, his hidden Awakening began to resurface against his control more often.
The first instance, he stood over the Japanese Empire, who wept over their sibling's graves, asking him to promise a new beginning for their people and to recognize the dreams they had lost sight of. What a cursed, lost soul, he had thought at the time as their body went still, slowly shattering before his eyes. Then the sensation slammed into him, forcing him to keel over in surprise but after a moment, nothing seemed to happen and it disappeared, returning to its slumber. This experience shook him so much that he locked himself behind restrictors for an entire month after that. It would have been longer if there weren't more conflict brewing.
The second was far worse. First, came the shock from the news of Soviet's collapse, his sudden disappearance into the night. Summoning NATO to his side, America rushed over though he doesn't remember if it was out of disbelief, concern, both or something else but just as he arrived in the other's land, it stirred again but so strongly that it nearly knocked him out cold. He could have sworn that his life flashed before his eyes and it did because he found himself bursting into divine flames, so blue that it made the clearest skies look dirty and grey. It nearly consumed him, burning him alive but somewhere deep within, that power reached out for another, clawing desperately to grab ahold of it.
That's when he realized its nature, a thieving, and dangerous ability. He would take and never give back but from somewhere far away, he could hear the rasping breaths of the other, refusing to let go. Once more, nothing happened and it slipped from his grasp as he felt himself fall.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Finally, there was the time the two of them had their first face-off against the hooded man and we all know how that went. The rest was history.
America snapped out of his thoughts as a chilling but gentle touch rested against his chin. His void black eyes raised to meet the sterling silver ones as he realized the tears rolling down his face. He hadn't even realized that he was crying.
Half expecting Russia to scoff and tease him, America turned away and tried to bury his face in his arms but the firm touch of the other did not waver. Russia did not do any of those things and instead, pulled him close in a gentle embrace.
"Thank you for sharing it all with me," he spoke softly, his voice a welcoming sound. This was a huge weight off both of their shoulders for different reasons but one thing was clear,
Though the chains had been long broken, they were closer than they had ever been before. The bond had been forged of secrets, of confiding in the other.
At last, he could hold it no longer and the last mask of his broke, shuddering down his body in silent cries. No one could fathom how desperately he needed this, not even himself. Once he let one tear fall, the rest followed. There was no stopping them from spilling out from the depths of his overflowing heart.
Russia gently pulled the delicate country into his arms, inviting him to take as long as he needed to. During this time, he couldn't help but admire his strength.
What a powerful person he was in the eyes of all. He had seen the rise and falls brought forth his new dawn by himself. A god, people would joke about him, his fame and name preceded him but Russia now knew the weight that he had carried with him for centuries. They had probably barely scratched the surface.
What amount of power did it take to finally let it all go– to throw down that crown of thorns for a moment and accept yourself? He was not weak to finally let himself cry. No, he was undoubtably strong but even the strongest needed a shoulder to lean on.
Russia closed his eyes and listened to his inner shackles shatter, one by one, and when he opened his eyes, they had returned to the outside world, no longer held back by any chains.
Author's Notes:
Hello. Did I scare you? I know, it's an update! What a rare sight these days.
Oof this chapter took more out of me than I thought. It's been a while since I wrote, I almost forgot what I was doing but nope, here we are with the first large chunk of Ame's origins. There is more to come but my bby is taking his first steps in seeking help :')
Anyway, hopefully next chapter will be the final chapter on this Manhunt game haha sorry for dragging it out so much... and I might try to shorten future chapters to make it easier for me to write. Maybe. No promises.
Either way, bye bye for now. See you next time :D