3A/N: Here's my new fic!
Full summary:
Every country had a dark side. During the World Wars, the evil side of every country grew more and more until it became a physical being. For once, the states united to fight a common enemy - the ones they called the Parallel Nations or 2p. After an exhausting battle, the Magic Trio managed to throw a powerful curse at them and lock them forever. However, they forgot one thing...all three of them had counterparts among the Parallels, 2p that hold the same skills as them.
Many years after, a few of the Parallels broke free. It was time for them to take over the world and destroy their originals. And what better way than locking them into a universe where they held no power and then crush them like worms? After all, everyone knew about America's love for comics, manga and heroes. When Alfred was given a manga as a gift, one made specifically for him, one where he was the hero, he was oblivious to the trap. Now, he found himself literally sunk into the manga, needing to become the hero in order to survive. And the fact that some other lives - more importantly, England's - were on the line too wasn't of any help. But perhaps it was better that he wasn't all alone.
Notes:
F-15C - American aircraft Fighter. As far as I've read, no one managed to take any F-15C down, although other aircrafts are known to be stronger than this fighter.
Copy - Hear, understand
Over - something along the lines of 'I finished my report and I'm waiting for a reply'.
Out - something along the lines of 'I finished my report and I'm not waiting for a reply'.
GBU-39 - Rockets that are best carried by a F-15C. They're small compared to others but dangerous nonetheless.
Target out - target down, target eliminated
Standby - wait for further orders, don't attack again until further orders
Roger - I understood, I heard you
I didn't add more military terms to avoid confusions. I suppose these ones are the most largely known.
The flashbacks have dates at the top (written in italics). You'll see what I'm talking about.
Enjoy!
Chapter I
Happy Birthday, America-san!
Said nation stared at the box lying in front of his door. April set out only a few days ago, yet he already received his present. Well… three months didn't mean so much, right? A cheerful smile emerged on America's face as he nodded to the convenient logic. With the excitement of a kid, he picked up the gift and brought it to his ear. A shake caused a dull noise. Eyebrows knitted together as if it would have helped guessing the content of the box. Another shake. By the sound of it, it must have been something thin and solid. With the same excitement, the American rushed inside, shutting the door with his foot in the progress. He didn't need any scissors to rip off the packing paper. His eyes widened at the sight: a comic. No, a manga – that was definitely Japan's style. But more importantly, he was on its cover, posing victoriously.
"Dude, this is way too awesome!"
Being the hero in a manga confirmed him that he was on the right path to become a real hero. People already considered him one! Well, apparently Japan did – the others would do so soon. Still, he made a mental note to tell the brunet how great that was. America flickered through the manga… and all the color drained from his face. He was positive he had spotted a ghost there. Turning the page back, ever so slowly, his fear was confirmed. He shut it closed. He needed – not that he would have put it that way – to read it with.
…I'm only getting started,
I won't blackout!
Let's go a little harder,
I wo-
"Hello?" A muffled voice, drowned into sleepiness, answered the phone. While he didn't really have a problem with waking up early, getting a call in the middle of the night didn't classified as one of England's favourite activities. If someone had felt like pulling a prank on him – again -, someone was going to have a very unpleasant surprise later.
"Guess what! Guess what!"
The Brit had to detach the phone from his ear to avoid getting his eardrums crushed by the shrill. Had it been anyone else, he would have hung up immediately. But America… well, America was an exception.
"Can't it wait until the morning?"
An exception didn't mean that he was willing to have a useless conversation at such an impossible hour. For God's sake, it ticked 2 a.m.!
"No!" Despite the riotous voice, he could almost see the American's pout. "I got a manga!"
"That's wonderful. I'm sure Japan would love to hear about it. Good n-"
"Artie, hear me out! I'm the hero!"
"I know." Having an argument about whether America was indeed a hero or not was always pointless and time consuming. Which was mainly the reason he didn't argue.
"No, no, you don't! I'm also in the manga! I'm its hero!"
"Excellent."
"So can you come over? Never mind, I'm almost there anyone. Uhm… do you have a spot to land on?"
"Land?" Now it started to sound worrisome. "America, what are you planning to-"
England didn't get to finish his question as he jumped in a sitting position. He gaped at the wall, the very wall that had the front of a plane stuck into. Moreover, a military plane. His worries proved rightful. He blinked once, then twice. Alfred hadn't really 'landed' in his wall, had he? He couldn't have been so reckless, could he? Let alone the damage of the room, it could have been a supporting wall, which could have leaded to the house to fall.
"Ya know, it's dark around here. You could use some more lights." The younger nation jumped off the pilot seat and pulled out the manga with a gleeful smile. "Ready?"
"You bloody git!" The confused expression he received as a response suggested well enough that the intruder didn't see the issue. "You don't just fly through peoples' walls!" England moved his hands to emphasize his point. He took a sharp breath, attempting to calm down. It was useless. "Of course it's dark, it's 2 in the morning."
"But the lights are out…"
Without waiting for an invitation – or even permission -, America hopped onto the bed. He slipped behind the other, his legs on each of Arthur's sides and arms stretched out forwards, holding the manga. "Here we go!" And so he turned the first page. Then the second and so on. He had to admit it had an interesting plot and an amazing hero, but the antagonist still made him feel uncomfortable. He shifted a little, hesitating to turn another page.
"It's a ghost story, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but that's not why I came!" A moment of silence and a bored expression told him that England didn't believe a word. With a childish pout, the American rested his chin on the other's shoulder. "I'm no longer afraid of ghosts…" An obvious lie.
Eventually, he gathered his courage and turned the page. Despite knowing it was there, he still startled at the sight of the ghoul. Then the unexpected occurred. None of them knew exactly what, how or why it happened, but they found themselves up in the air and falling down rapidly.
June 24, 2018
"F-15C-2 to Hawk. Do you copy? I repeat, do you copy? Over."
"Loud and clear. Over."
"Clear vision on the target." The pilot chuckled. "Two GBU-39 packed and ready for that bastard. I require permission. Over."
"Burn his ass. Over."
"Roger that. Out." A deafening noise confirmed that the bomb hit something solid. "F-15C-2. Target out. Over."
"Copy that. Retreat and standby. Out and over." The American checked his weapon. "Ground R, move forward. I repeat, move forward now. Hawk over and out."
As instructed, the Ground R squad advanced towards the tanks. Dust shot up, making it hard to see anything. Hey, at least, the enemy couldn't see much either. Muffled shouts filled their ears as they approached. Anticipating possible survivors, some of the troops kept their distance from the tanks, riffles ready to kill on sight. The stifling smoke disappeared bit by bit, the image of a burning vehicle coming into view. Alfred smirked, catching it for a split second. Nice. The balance would surely tip for them, he assumed. More noises mixed as more type of weapons were used. Aircrafts overflew in organized circles, looking out for any missing adversary – ground or sky – to destroy. Despite the fact that there didn't seem to be any left, it would have been too reckless to not have your back covered. That was a risk that the air chief marshal couldn't afford, moreover after the marshal crashed.
Then another one of their aircrafts was shot down. It collapsed within seconds; poor pilot didn't even have the time try to get out. It alarmed the others. Where did that come from? They looked around for any airforce, being convinced that it was that kind of projectile. No. Nothing. So they looked down. There, hidden by a thick layer of dust and buried between destroyed vehicles, some tanks continued to attack, taking down the Bombers and Fighters one by one. Twenty out of two hundred tanks were only scratched, but in the full-battle mode. Soldiers climbed out of the armoured tanks. Smaller planes joined them soon, chasing their NATO correspondents, as well as the ground troops.
The balance didn't tip as Alfred predicted. The image he was facing now was nothing like he planned. He frowned – the real fight just started.
June 25, 2018
With his hands locked behind and a stern face, Ivan inspected the remained ground and airforces from the last battle. The casualties had been rather high – higher than he would have liked, yet not high enough to surprise him. Ever since the Cold War, he had been paying attention to the other nations' armies, to their power and number. Strategy was hard to spy at without having an actual war going on. Iraq, Iran and Syria had given him the opportunity to study USA a little, but he wasn't the one to lie on that alone. It could have been very well just a show off to remember people that they were still up and about, ready to defeat anyone in their way. Well, it kind of worked. Ivan simply didn't buy the peace, equality, freedom and any other shitty lie they had told. Economy and spectacle. That was all it had been about. A caution part of his mind had been constantly whispering him that the silent warning was mostly directed to Russia. He chose to ignore that only partly.
Either way, yesterday's events proved him that he had been right to keep an eye on the Americans. Them and any other NATO country.
Half wrecked, half functional, the tanks he was so proud of stood lined up in front of him. Aircrafts were right behind them, more or less affected. Most of them needed to be fixed. No problem. He had more resources than those.
"Brother?"
The straight line of his lips curled into a sweet smile. A honest one. It was nice to know that someone was truly concerned about his well-being out of love and not politics. Belarus had taken her love overboard for years, to a terrifying level in fact, but still. And who else could he trust if not his sisters?
Present day
"Get off!"
Classifying falling down from the sky, literally, as an unpleasant experience was an understatement. Having another person, larger than himself, was only making it worse. Arthur could confirm it. If he hadn't broken any bone due to the falling, Alfred must have crushed something by landing on him. After the additional weight was lifted from his body, the Brit got on his feet and dusted himself.
"Where are we?"
"Dude, can't you tell?" Alfred spun around, holding out his arms. He had a large grin on his face, his eyes sparkling with excitement. What was so great about being there was beyond Arthur. "We're in the forest!"
England sighed. Of course they were in a forest, he didn't mean the question like that. Exotic trees rose up around them like some kind of threatening giants, allowing lianas to hang randomly like some limbs reaching down to catch the intruders. Thick moss lay on most trunks, a dirty green mixed with a hint of yellow. It seemed to stretch on the ground too, for it covered some spots beneath their feet, as well. Apart from that, there were only dust, some mud from place to place and different herbs. Sharp leaves and branches reached up from within the bushes filling the space between the trees. All in all, it looked like some kind of an exotic forest… no, like a jungle.
"I can see that. But where exactly are we?"
"I just told you, dude. In the forest."
Arthur rubbed a spot between his eyebrows. This was getting them no where.
"Which means… I'm officially the hero here! I wonder if I can fly!"
"I highly doubt it. It only happens in comics."
"Exactly! This is a comic. You know, the page we turned?"
"That's impossible." Arthur contradicted after a moment of thinking. He might have napped a little during the comic, true, but it still didn't make sense. Then again, America didn't always make sense. For a second, he thought it was a dream, but his sore ass reminded him that the falling felt real. Unpleasantly real. Even so, his reasoning remained. "By turning a page, you don-"
…Well, Alfred didn't seem to listen to him. He appeared to be too caught in his own happy moment, commenting about this mess more enthusiastically than about anything else lately. This gave the elder the opportunity to check their surroundings and find a way out of this jungle. However, the trees were so tall that they blocked any sight of the sky, while the plants were so thick that they denied access to any other area. At a closer look, there was a narrowed path leading... somewhere. And next to it, a bush shivering. Bushes don't move. Bushes don't have eyes, either. Crimson red concentrated into an oval shape stared at them from between the small branches. One could have overlooked it, but not Arthur. He was too experienced in the art of war to overlook any details that might be convenient or dangerous. England tagged it as a potential danger. The eyes flickered to the side, then back at the Brit. That was enough to make him avert his gaze towards Alfred – the idiot who didn't notice the moving bush, nor the stare and was so cleverly heading towards it.
"C'mon, dude, this is the right path!" It was the only way, but it also leaded to the unknown spy.
"Wait a minute, there's someone in the bush."
As if to confirm his words, the bush startled. Something that Alfred caught on too. Instead of being suspicious, the American just grinned wider and thumbed up. "Don't worry, Artie, the hero's gonna protect you!"
It didn't reassure Arthur, really. As America kept getting closer, the leaves shivered again as the hidden creature shifted again. This time, however, the crimson eyes had a warning glare, the one of a wild animal ready to grab its prey. A low growl vibrated from its lungs as it pushed a limb out the bush. It was barely visible, the bloodied claws digging into the ground, drawing lines in preparation for an assault. Alfred either didn't see or didn't care to take into account, for he didn't stop. England was just about to warn him when a shallow noise echoed through the jungle. If anything, it sounded like a ghost from a horror movie. Mixed with the reminder the comic's antagonist and a more evident move of the bush, it made America jumped behind the older nation. He didn't get scared easily, but ghosts had always been freaking him out.
"Dude, is that a ghost?!"
He peeked from behind Arthur. He had his hands on the blond's shoulder as if to make sure he wasn't gonna be left alone with the ghoul – not that England ever let him down – and his eye lower just above said shoulders. In other circumstances, the Brit would have found it amusing how that fear was still so persisting.
"My hero…" It was Arthur's sarcastic reply, instead. Nevertheless, he was grateful that the American didn't get to close to whatever being waited patiently in the bush.
"Not funny, dude!" The younger whined, although the worry remained. "The bad guy's a ghost!"
The bush moved violently as the creature jumped out of it. With the agility of a predator, it landed a few meters from them, taking a pose which screamed danger at close range.
A/N: That's it for now. I hope you enjoyed it! Don't hesitate to review (that actually cheers me up a lot) Last but not least, this fic is inspired by the current political situation mixed with Hetalia facts. I dearly hope it won't get to certain points of this fic in real life! Regardless, I like this idea for a fic.