"God, why is it so fucking cold?" Mexico mumbled, and Zaltana giggled. She was walking ahead of the group, Utah on her shoulders. There weren't many of them coming- Finland, Russia, Mexico, Canada, Sweden, Lithuania, Prussia, England, Zaltana, Illinois, and Utah. Everyone else decided to stay.
Lithuania and Prussia were arguing in the back of the group, annoying everyone else.
Utah put his hands on the front-facing set of Zaltana's horns, adjusting where she was walking. Illinois seemed to find it funny, how he was controlling his aunt like a small dragon.
"Are you sure this is right?" Zaltana asked. Her ears were pricked- she was trying to tell ahead of time if there was a waterfall, but she couldn't hear anything. Just the snow and the hibernating animals beneath it.
"Yes," Utah said, and Zaltana paused as she stepped on something.
"There's a road right here," she said, looking back. The group nodded, waiting for Utah's direction. He'd placed them on a road next to a McDonald's and then told them that this was the direction, but now he seemed a bit unsure.
"This place looks different than it did in the fall," he mumbled, and Zaltana's ears went back. Only Illinois realized though, the nations were busy making sure they knew where the road started so they would trip.
"Left," he said, "follow the road."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, but there's a right turn soon. We were doing half of this off-roading."
"How much longer are we walking?" Prussia asked. He was near the front now, Russia having separated him and Lithuania. England seemed to agree with his question.
"Not far now." Utah said, hoping he was right. Illinois noticed this and scowled into his hand, pulling his mask up to hide it. He was the only one wearing his uniform- a military looking outfit that Alfred had specially made for all of his children.
His uniform was all black, with gloves, a hood, and a mask, making it evident he did more work in the spying department.
Zaltana sighed, continuing to walk, Utah keeping a close eye on the side of the road. All the trees were dead, instead of the deep amber and orange that he remembered, and he hoped he could get this right, because they had no flying animals to do it right now.
He spotted a tree with a heart carved into it, two letters from two lovers' names, and thought back.
"Turn here," he said, and Zaltana looked, noticing the carving as well, starting to walk. She still didn't hear anything, although she knew that snow ate up noise there still should have been something- it was a goddamn waterfall. Those are loud as fuck.
Then, she heard the beating of a large animal's heart, and she looked around. Utah didn't seem to understand what she was doing when she lashed her tail and spun around, her ears poised before she looked to the ground.
"There's something in there," she whispered, "something big."
Illinois started walking ahead a bit, before he saw a few military vehicles parked and back tracked.
"Good job, Utah," Illinois said, reaching up to take him off her shoulders. He would have to start walking, now. He pointed down the drive, "there's military vehicles that way. Three of 'em."
Zaltana nodded, "Utah, you have a gun, don't be afraid to use it. Illinois, you also have a gun. Watch him."
"Yes ma'am," Illinois saluted, before looking at his brother. Utah, while respectful around the nations, spun around and glared at him as they started walking to the left. Finland, Sweden, Canada, and Prussia behind them.
Illinois was good at keeping quiet in the snow, as were all the other nations, but Utah was a bit clunky- unlike Colorado, he didn't inherit the 'good with snow' quality, like Arizona and Sunshine.
Russia immediately noticed that the laboratory was built into the mountain. He didn't notice a waterfall, but oh well.
The trees provided them very little covering in the depth of winter, so Zaltana took the moment to turn into a white cat and run off somewhere. Russia himself didn't mind, but the others seemed uncomfortable with her absence. Mexico still seemed to be cold, even though he was wearing three or four coats, England was pissy about having to come on this mission, and Lithuania didn't want to be alone with Russia.
Russia grabbed a pair of binoculars out of his coat, looking over the side of the mountain, trying to find a door on the side.
He couldn't find anything. It all just looked like a mountain to him, even with the binoculars, and he wasn't willing to move forward without some form of cover.
"Found the door."
He didn't jump, but Mexico was practically six feet in the air. Lithuania looked a little shaken as well, looking at the little fluffy cat before him.
England just looked tired.
"Good," Russia said, putting his binoculars away, and Zaltana started walking. She seemed to want to stay as the cat, which was a little annoying to him, since he had to take shorter steps to not pass her.
She stopped suddenly, and he looked to where she was looking. There was a dull metal door in the wall, with a waterfall beside it. There were steps up to it, and two stations that looked like where guards would stand.
"Where are the guards?" Russia whispered, and Zaltana sat up on her haunches, trying to see if there was anything of interest.
There was a camera as well, but he took his computer out of the messenger bag under his coat and started to disable them. It was better than looking on them to see what he could find, because most of the time it was trackable.
Mexico started walking forward, beckoning the others forward with a wave of his hand, "This is a cell. They took whoever was in the cell out of the cell."
"Great observation," England mumbled under his breath, Russia glancing at him.
"Well, I didn't see you adding anything, England," Russia grumbled to him, and England looked over and glared.
Mexico, unlike Canada, didn't care much about the demonic family that he apparently had the blood of. He worried for America out of principle, just like he would worry for any of the North or South Americans- even if he was the one to hurt him as much as he had.
He didn't care if he was accepted into a family. He had one. Guatemala, Belize, Honduras, Costa Rica, El Salvador, Panama, and Nicaragua. Blood didn't matter, he learned that a long time ago, but now he felt like using his knowledge.
He didn't know why he was doing this for America. It was stupid on his part. He should have never stayed at the meeting, he should have never walked through the portal. He didn't know what was making him stay. He didn't exactly want to go back home.
Zaltana started walking forward after getting the okay from Russia. There were dents in the snow, almost leveled from when someone had walked through here- maybe, last night? Somewhere around them. The sun had melted them slightly.
Her paws dipped into an ident and she noticed someone had fallen, and then another, indicating that there had been a bit of a squabble. She didn't know if now was the time to turn back into her real form, she didn't want to have to turn into anything else.
To correct herself, she didn't want to get tired. Transforming into anything was draining, and she'd hardly recovered her energy from getting Koko, that dragon, and Utah.
There was dragging on the ground, and she followed it, Russia clicking away on his computer.
There was another door- this one bigger, more official like.
"We need to see inside," England whispered, and she nodded. She waited for Russia's okay before she transformed, until she heard alarms go off.
"They noticed the camera's were down-" Mexico said, but she didn't hear what he finished, immediately kicking down the door. It didn't have a lot of strength to it's hinges, definitely not as much as Connecticut's box, and she lashed her tail, killing the guards defending it as quickly as possible.
A bullet went through her stomach and she lost her breath, before spinning around and clawing the offending officer right in the eyes.
She pulled her fingers out of the sockets, watching the woman drop.
God, why did she have to be tired? If she had energy, a lot of energy, she could heal! Now she would have to wait for this stupid bullet wound to heal slowly. It was the worst thing to her.
Russia stalked in behind her, his laptop away and his pipe in his hands.
"Little late," she grumbled, and Mexico, Lithuania, and England slipped in.
Russia broke the second door off its hinges, the group starting to snoop around the hallways.
Finland ran forward as the alarm went off, killing the two guards outside the door with unmatched ease. Prussia and Illinois were close behind, Illinois bringing his lockpicking stuff out of his pocket and getting the lock in only a few seconds. Canada, Sweden, and Utah were a little slower behind.
The second door had one guard, but Finland had got him before he even had a chance to aim- damn that guy was good with a rifle.
Illinois got the second door, and they walked slowly into the facility.
The entire place was eerie, something that Russia noticed immediately. It was definitely a place that you'd expect human experimentation to be going on in.
The floor was still the stone of the mountain, and Zatlana seemed to think it was pretty warm. The walls were metal, which seemed like a waste. It smelled like a mix of a hospital and a concentration camp.
There were no windows, just a string of lights down the middle of the hallway. A door to the side he forced himself through, killing the two surprised humans without a care before looking around. He didn't see anything in this room, they were only going over DNA sequences.
The next room was like a traditional Wild West prison, bars on one side and a warden -now passed- on the other. He noticed some of the humans looked like people he knew long ago, and he released them. There were only six here.
They called him Mr. Russia, so at least they recognized him. They also recognized Zaltana, though, with a lot less grace.
Zaltana sent them home immediately. She didn't want to deal with stragglers, especially that many. At least they looked well fed.
Other rooms were storage-- one room had a big machine gun in it. They couldn't seem to find anyone, at least on their end.
Two humans hung onto Illinois, weeping. He didn't seem pleased with this- he really, really wanted to dump them on his brother. Prussia broke down another door, at least not having to do it twice this time, and alerting everyone in the room that someone was coming in. More armed guards came down the hall, and Finland and Sweden took care of them.
Canada was looking around a room, noticing there was a trapdoor in the corner. Slowly, he opened it, stepping down the ladder. There was a door, and he kicked it down.
He was taken aback by this room. It looked like a torture chamber.
In the corner, he noticed a little boy, his face in his knees.
"Hey," he called, and the boy looked up, his face full of fear before he looked confused. The boy's legs shook as he stood up.
"Mommy?" the boy called, and Canada was shocked. He just... never expected it. He knew that the child thought he was Alfred, but it had just settled in that Alfred had children- young children like this little one!
"No," he said, "I'm your Uncle Canada, I came here to rescue you."
"Please, don't take me away," the boy cried, "not without Guam."
"Where is... Guam," Canada asked, looking around, and the boy pointed to the other corner, where behind a strange table he noticed a boy sprawled out. He ran to the other boy's side, noting that his breathing was shallow, and he put an ear against his heart. It was still beating. He picked him up carefully.
"Can you walk?" he asked the boy, and he nodded, following behind him.
"I don't know where Via, Mariana, and Samoa are," the boy said, "is mom going to get mad at me?"
"I'm sure he's not," Canada's eyebrows furrowed. There were more little kids? How many little children were there?
He had no idea how he was going to get up the ladder with his child, before he heard Prussia calling him.
"Down here!" he yelled, before he saw Prussia's face in the opening, "I got two little boys, both personifications!"
Prussia came down a few steps, reaching for Guam, and Canada handed him to him, before picking up the other one and having Prussia put him up as well.
Prussia had Guam in his arms, when he came up, Canada looking at the other personification.
"What's your name?"
"Rico!" the little boy cried. He seemed excited just to be out of that hole, "Puerto Rico."
Canada and Prussia glanced at each other, before Canada scooped him up, "well then, come on."
England paused, looking at the wall. It was the same metal as everywhere else, yet it... felt different. He didn't know how to describe it. Warmth flooded through his body, his senses, a killing warmth that turned to burning heat, and he forced his eyes away, looking to where the others were walking ahead of him.
Why did it feel like America was right next to him?
He took a few steps towards the wall, placing his hands on it. He didn't know why America was right there.
God, he was going crazy.
"England, hurry up!" Lithuania said, calling him forward with a wave of his hand. England nodded, before shaking a head at his thoughts. America wasn't here. That would be too easy.
America pushed himself forward with his arms, his legs much too weak to do anything useful. The flashing red lights in his cell were giving him a headache, as well as the sirens, but he felt someone. He was walking towards him- at least past his cell.
Who was that someone? He felt like he knew- green eyes, blond hair. Pain, hurt siblings. Hurt them all, kill them all! No! Wait- this was England. This was the man who broke his family, broke his relationship with the world. He scowled, why did it have to be him.
He cried out when he felt the mustard gas get sprayed onto him once again, burning his lungs and making painful blisters cover his burned form.
England felt as if he came closer, before the air left.
No, what?
He looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks. Where was he going? Why was he leaving?
The air conditioner kicked in, and the excess gas in the air cleared.
"Did you see that?" the same voice that had taunted him before said, "Looked right at you and walked passed. What a good friend."
"Shut up," America said, gagging as more tears streamed down his chest. His hands moved up to hide his face from his own shame. Why did he ever trust England? He was always out for himself.
He didn't even think that the wall might not be glass. He couldn't exactly tell, he understood that he could only see vague shapes and colors.
The man knelt down beside him, petting his hair gently, "Come here, sweetheart."
"Go away," he choked on his words, trying to pull himself away from the man before he was moved to his lap, his head tucked between the other man's knees, his hands reaching up to grab at his shirt. The man draped his arms over him, and America gagged again, continuing to sob.
Why did the comfort feel good?
He didn't want it too- he wanted to be away from this horrible, horrible man, not going to him for comfort, yet it seemed to be the only thing he could do. Who else was there for him?
England was probably helping his oppressors. Their nations were close in recent years. God, he could imagine it. The Prime Minister and him walking side by side, looking at all the cool toys in the possession of these people, and he was just the cherry on top.
"There there," the man said, leaning over him. The weight on top of him felt good, even if it was also hindering his breathing and making the welts on his back ignite in pain, "it's okay. I'll never leave you."
He didn't have an answer.
Zaltana rose her nose in the air, before wincing. There was nothing to smell, everything was coated in a thick layer of medicine and gasses, which made her nauseous. She wavered on her feet- dammit, she was getting tired, and her brother wasn't in sight. Where was he?
He should be here. This seemed like one of the most well equipped places, this is where they would keep him, where was he!
Her head lowered, and Russia brushed past her. The two looked at each other for a second, before she got her second wind, bursting the door off its hinges of a lab room.
York was in an electric chair, his head hanging back. She walked towards him slowly, he was only unconscious. She broke the leather straps around his wrists, picking him up and throwing him over her shoulder.
Outside, she saw Russia escorting Jolon out of another room. Death Valley looked up at her, before a smile broke out on his face.
"Dear sister," he croaked in Navajo, his eyes tearing up, "it is so... so nice to see you."
"To you too," she replied, in the same language, looking over to the nations, "is there anywhere else?"
"This goes to another hallway," Lithuania said, pushing open a creaking door, "and I hear Finland screaming down it."
"So, no," she said, pained. She was specifically hoping to find America. He was the one who would be most useful- him and Conner were the ones they needed, although she loved all her other siblings.
"Auntie!" Rico screeched as the two groups met in the middle, wrapping his arms around her. She picked him up in the arm that wasn't carrying York, nuzzling his face.
"Hello, little one," she said, trying to take note of his overall health. He was definitely lighter, a little scarred on the cheeks- had a big bruise on his chin, and one eye was a slightly puffy, but otherwise, he looked okay.
"No love for me?" Ziracuny purred, and she looked at her sister. The Kiowa tribe no longer looked like the violent warrior she remembered- instead, she looked tired. She was thinned down, instead of the normal muscles that ran over her body.
"You look like a seven-year-old," Zatlana stated, a humorous scowl on her face, and Ziracuny imitated her growl, clawing her fingers and making a 'monster' motion in response. Of all of her siblings, she found none of the ones she wanted too, and only the one she fought with on a regular basis. Wonderful.
"You didn't find Alfred?" Canada asked, and she noticed he had Guam in his arms.
"No," she sighed, "anyone find any fun files? All we had on our side was laboratories and storage rooms."
"Yes," Sweden said, pulling multiple stacks out of his bag. She nodded, approving of the stack.
"We should get going, before reinforcements come," Zaltana said, not listening to Mexico as he looked at the only door painted the same color of the wall that was still unbroken, opening a portal.
"Home!" Rico yelled, running into the house. The nations all followed behind, somewhat proud of themselves.
Mexico stayed for a few seconds, looking at the one door, before looking at the portal. Nah, it probably wasn't anything important. Just another storage locker they forgot to paint.
He stepped through the portal.
Justin sighed. The blond had fallen asleep in his lap, and he pushed him off, standing up. He walked down the hallway- he didn't understand how they missed the door- it was literally right there! It amused him, even though he guessed they wouldn't get through the second door.
"Is he better?" Stacey asked, looking through the one-sided glass as he closed the door. He shrugged.
"He's fucking miserable," he started laughing, "he's so fucking easy."
Stacey rolled her eyes, "I've called in the reinforcements. They'll clean up the bodies."
"How many people do you think they got? The poor things seemed pretty desperate," he laughed, and she giggled as well, turning her computer towards him.
"Look at this one," she said, pointing to a huge albino woman with horns and wolf ears, "I wanna see what's in its stinger. That would be cool."
"Damn right," he replied, "what's the other ones?"
"No idea," Stacey said, rolling the screen back. A large man with cream-colored hair busted down the door without even seeming to try, and he whistled.
"Super strength," he said, "gotta be. No way that thing is human."
"I know, right? And I've been looking around these videos, there's no way any of these people are humans. And lookie here."
"728402," he said, "the test boy. The one who went missing."
"Yep," she giggled, "and this one? The one who escaped from containment."
"Don't see that other one though- where is he?"
"Who knows- sure as hell ain't here," she replied, "God, I wish these fucking cameras had audio. That kid looks hella happy to go wherever they're going."
"Think they're going to that city?"
"No," Stacey sighed, "they have another goddamn hideout. They already checked out that stupid city."
"Damn," Justin replied, rolling his eyes, "well, we need to see where they're going- did we get a chip?"
"Yep. One on that black-haired boy."
"The pretty one?"
"Only black-haired boy I can think of," she raised a brow at him, "the one who calls himself 'New York.'"