【D4y 3, 1#S4f3 R00m T01l3t #3, Curr3n7 T1m3100p - (F/n)】

"I'm so stupid." You release a shaky breath. Your throat feels so constricted. From being held captive, telling the truth, or speaking up, you didn't know. But they didn't believe you. You felt betrayed. They didn't believe you were a fan. But you're telling the truth! You can feel a sting in your eyes, but you hold it back. Pathetic. Getting upset over them not believing you. Did you expect them to? Because... Why? What have you proved to them? Nothing. Just because you are in this mansion doesn't mean jack to them. You just hope that after they examine Viktor and see he isn't healing, they see what you were saying. That there's no need for a fight. That they needed to be united to get out. 
You scrunch up your face, hoping it would rid this feeling. God, you hated people thinking you were lying and not thinking you capable. You weren't a liar. You weren't something to be overlooked. You turn on the hot tap, leaving it to run as you grab a wad of toilet roll. You look up at the mirror, tilting your head back and dabbing away the blood. It wasn't even a deep cut, just a nick to the skin, on the left side of your jugular; and it stings. Stings like you just smothered a lemon on it. You throw the bloodied tissue in the toilet once done and grab some more, wetting the bundle with lukewarm water and trying to remove the stains from your neck. You keep sucking in a breath, squirming. You grit your jaw, stealing your eyes over.

It's doesn't hurt. My body is just telling me that somethings not right, but I'm aware. You can stop now. I'm good. I'm fine. I can't feel it. Can't feel the pain. 

You sigh, staggered, before turning off the tap. You look down at the stained tissue and furrow your brow, brooding. Then you look back in the mirror, turning to get a side profile of the bruise on your temple from the second day where you hit your head with Canada. It isn't that bad, kind of yellow still, but almost gone. Your mind wanders, thinking of the second day. When you met all of the Allies, and Kumajirou heeled them. And then Russia pointed out your wrist. You look at it, the marks a mix of yellow and brown. It's like someone had grabbed your wrist tightly. You lift up your bruised wrist, wrapping your left hand around it. The mark is bigger than your fingers, thicker.

"Poppet?" You jolt, your entire body jumping at the voice. You look at the mirror, stunned.

"Oliver?" You question, but your voice cracks. You clear it awkwardly, looking at him. Once again he's looking at you through the mirror. He looks worried. You lift a brow. "You good?"

"I was about to ask you the very same thing." His eyes are soft, concerned, and his brow furrowed at you. He even tilts his head as he looks you over.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Your question is ignored as Oliver leans closer, staring. But not at your face. He's looking down. You look at your shirt, pulling it away from yourself before thinning your lips. There's blood on it. It's hard to act fine when there is blood staining your clothes.

"You're bleeding." You try to be upbeat.

"I'm a--" You sigh, giving up. There's no way to lie your way out. You were literally upset about being called a liar earlier and here you are trying to get away with it. "Yeah, I am." You smile forcefully, shrugging it in a what-can-you-do? way.

"What happened?" He asks, lifting his hand. He places it over his heart, his bottom lip jutting out and eyes drooping. You falter at that. It's like he cares.

"Just what was coming to me." You awkwardly laugh. Then you snap your finger, making finger guns at him. "What's up with you? Hope you're not too hungry."

"Yes, I wanted to thank you formally for the food last night. You really didn't have to do that."

"Except I did." You add quickly, almost scolding. "You expect me to let you starve? Don't think I didn't see that door falling off on you. You're living in a germ-infested area. Don't think I also didn't realise there was no toilet there. Your saferoom is tiny and underwhelming." You cross your arms. He turns red, fidgeting. "I want to help where I can with you guys, and if that means feeding you, I'll try to hunt down every extra piece there is to offer even if it means I go without." Oliver's expression softens, his shoulders sagging as he takes a moment to absorb your sincereity.

"I'd like to... return the favour." You tilt your head. He seems awfully anxious about it.

"Ah, no worries. I mean, I'll appreciate anything, but I did it like a Christmas present." You purse your lips, twisting them as you stare at him. He does seem funny right now. You look into the background, trying to spot anyone. You can't see anything so you turn your gaze back to him. He blinks owlishly. It takes a moment for you to realise he's confused. "Like, not expecting anything in return."

"Oh, of course. But I still feel obliged."

"I mean, if you want to, you can." You cock a brow, unsure. You didn't exactly expect anything. Surely he isn't that appreciative about being given basic human necessities?

What sort of people does he hang with? Who hurt you, my sweet, summer child?

"Okay, hold your hands out." You furrow your brow in confusion. He smiles softly. "Don't worry, you don't have to close your eyes for this trick." He giggles. Your lip curls at the edge in amusement. You hold out your hands, squaring your shoulders. You didn't know what will happen, but if his magic has any force behind it at least you won't be falling over.

"Am I meant to do something or...?" You ask, feeling rather stupid. Oliver laughs before holding his hands out.

"Your England specialises in castings and potions, whereas I specialise in space manipulation." He says, holding his hands out in front of him. He concentrates, holding his hands as if there's a box between them. You watch. A faint pink glow emanates from his hands, and he closes his eyes.

"Old man, what ya doin'?" You see Allen's arm come onto the mirror, and your gaze flickers to him for a second before you notice some sort of neon pink square floating between Oliver's palms. Then in the next second, you feel something drop in your palm. It's cold and doesn't weigh much. You blink.

"My phone!" You widen your eyes as you practically beam at it. "Oh my god, I was just talking about this!"

"Wig." Allen says tonelessly, nodding. He then sits next to Oliver. "Ya gonna tell them 'bout what Luciano said?"

"You've been communicating, and yet you've failed to mention me?" Luciano steps forward. You scowl. The screen widens, and you get a full-body shot of all three men.

"Ever teh narcissist." Allen crosses his arms. Luciano shoots him a look, before side-eyeing Oliver.

"I'd get your lapdog under control before giving out presents."

"Fuckin' lapdawg?!" Allen spits with venom. "I'm gonn--"

"(F/n), your neck!" The Brit gasps. Allen stops to look at you, squinting deeply. Luciano looks at you pensively, his expression just looking disappointed.

"Huh?" You lift your hand, touching it. "Oh, I'm spewing." You look at your hand and laugh. "Guess I got so excited 'bout my phone." You try to grin, but Luciano scowls at you.

"I didn't think those bastards would hurt you." Luciano's scowl deepens before he locks his eyes with yours. "Hurry up with the damn key."

"Okay, okay." You frown, rubbing at your neck. This guy exhausts you.

Do I need cream for this? Bandaged? Nah, that seems like too much. Screams desperate. It's only a scratch... If it starts bleeding heavily then I'll just wipe it down again.

You fumble about, grabbing more toilet roll. You dab away at it as you look back to the mirror. Luciano is looking at you in disgust. You frown, but continue.

"Use an antiseptic wipe." Luciano spits, crinkling his nose further. You frown further.

"Not like I'll infect it."

"It would be better if you cleaned it." Oliver pipes up.

"Yeah, tha' nick could get worse in this shithole." Allen gives his two cents as he leans even further forward, bracing his elbow on his knee.

"Not really." You shrug dismissively. "My mirror is currently out of order for me to do anything about it though." You give a small laugh, jutting a brow. You run your hand across the cut again, trying to see if there's anywhere it's really bleeding. Maybe just that area you'll put a plaster across. "It feels like a paper cut. And it's not like I'm gonna rub my neck against a rusty nail or roll in dirt." You shrug, dropping your arm. "It'll be fine." Luciano rubs the bridge of his nose. "You mentioned something earlier?"

"Continue the earlier mission." You expect him to continue, so you stare at him. But he doesn't.

I feel like there's more to it than this.

"So?" You raise a brow.

"You can go now, dear." Oliver smiles. You nod at him, then look at Allen.

"Oh, can you tell Lutz to tell Gillen that I've found some polish? I don't know if there's one specifically for his metal, but it says for metal surfaces but with kitchen appliance photos on it?" You blabber. "I know you can use hot water for polishing cutlery. Is it the same for his... Armour? Prosthetic?" Allen cocks a brow, giving you an unreadable look. You flush red, embarrassed that you yammered away and he doesn't get it. You're not repeating yourself. "... Just tell Gillen I've got some cloth." You flap your hand, looking away.

"Aren't ya just teh cutest?" He chuckles. Your ears begin to burn. You huff, dabbing your neck once more. You turn to face the door, biting your lip.

"I can go?" You look back, looking at them expectantly.

"Yes, go." Luciano nods at you sternly. You give him a reluctant smile before stepping back, then rush to the door. You continue into the main room and see all the countries are quiet, looking at Spain. More specifically his hand, which holds a phone.

"I was worried sick, you fool!" You hear that and it clicks. You ignore the voices for a second and look around, noticing Viktor has been moved from his refines to a bed, passed out cold. Kumaajirou is curled up at the end of the bed, so you can only hope that a bit of magic-infused help would keep Viktor infection and death free. Poor guy. You tip toe towards Canada, settling beside him as you watch everyone. Canada looks down at you, surprised by your presence. 

"Austria?" You mutter to him, but it carries throughout the room. Everyone turns to you. You freeze under the attention.

"Who is that?" The voice echoes through the line. "Don't tell me one of the girls got in there. You are--"

"It's not! They've been here since the beginning!" Spain panics, sweat appearing on his forehead. "It's (F/n)." Spain stretches his phone out towards you, panicked. You scrunch up your face, looking at Spain warrily.

"Hi?" You speak unsurely into the phone, glancing back and forth between Spain and the phone.

"Remind me never to give a phone to you." Romano sighs. You pout at him before tentatively taking the phone from Spain. The brunet tilts his head at you, just as confused as everyone else.

"I'm (F/n), I've, uh, been here since day one." You pause to think of what else to say. "The boys have been looking after me, so you shouldn't worry too much... and its good to finally put a voice to the name." You add awkwardly. 

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Austria." You laugh at that, grinning stupidly.

"It's nice to meet you too." You thin your lips, speaking softly into the phone. He hums in response. You raise your brows, radiating awkwardness. Three seconds pass before you find the silence unbearable and you pipe up again. "Is, um, is Hungary with you?" The line is silent for a moment again.

"Yes, would you like to speak with her?" He sounds cautious and confused. You have a brain fart, opening and closing your mouth as you feel the heat rise through your body.

Curse me and for saying the first thing that comes to mind!

"No, no! I'm sure she has better things to be doing!" You fumble, moving the phone around. You look at Spain, raising a brow at him. "I'll, uh, I'll let you talk with Spain. Rip him a new one about Romano..." Spain tilts his head, smiling in confusion as Romano crosses his arms. "Unless you've done that already?" You squint at the phone. Why does your mouth always run itself into walls?

"Yes, I would very much enjoy giving that boy an earful, but more importantly I would like to speak with Italy."

"Oh, yeah. No problem. I'll give him to you." You click your tongue. "... You to him." You bitterly correct under your breath. You hold the phone out to Italy, wishing he'd take it. Your personality doesn't seem to clash well with Austria's. Italy blinks at you but picks the phone up from your palm.

"C-ciao?"

"Italy, you can hear me, can't you?" Italy nods erratically before speaking up.

"Yes, I can hear you!" He squeaks out. You smile at him, crinkling up your eyes.

"Come down for a bit. Look outside the window."

"What?" His eyes dart around as you nod quickly, encouragingly. Italy's eyes land on you so he nods along. "Oh, o-okay."

"Wait, don't go by yourself!" Canada speaks up, looking around to everyone. "Let's all go together." Italy clutches the phone tighter as he begins to leads to way.

"Hold on." Britain raises a hand, placing it on both yours and Italy's shoulder. "Don't walk in the front. You're being targeted, aren't you? Come behind me." Italy nods slowly and shudders back. "And you." England purses his lips, eying you over as he contemplates. "Are you well enough to be walking about?" He glances down at your leg. You nod along dumbly.

"Yeah, it doesn't hurt. Can't feel it." You give him a reassuring smile, but it quickly falls. He looks panicked.

"You can't feel your legs?" His hands that's on your shoulder turns your body so you face him directly.

"No, I mean, like, I can't feel pain in my legs. Not my actual legs. Then I'd be worried about it too." You laugh anxiously as you babble along. You look around to see Germany and France leading Italy out. "Oh, we better get going. Don't want to make Austria wait."

"Yeah." Prussia slides in next to you, throwing his arm over your shoulder and subtly pushing Britains off. "Let's go quickly, or he won't stop bitching." He nods towards Spain's phone. They file into the halls, making their way down to the front of the house. France is the closest to the window, partly leading the way. You watch as he raises his brow as he looks out the window. Then you see when he notices. You feel a smile twitch onto your lips. France's eyes widen, eyebrows jumping up his forehead. You pop up beside him, feeling the giddyness overwhelm you. It seems you've at least made the First Players concerned about Viktor which is leaps and bounds better than them wanting to torture him, and now one of your favourite scenes is going to happen! And you get to see more Hetalia characters from a distance!

"My, my. Would you look at that..." France smiles gently over to Italy, eyes crinkling up. Italy scrunches up his brow in confusion.

"Huh?" Italy hops over, trying to look around France. "What are you looking at, France?"

"Italy." Austria speaks up, his voice cutting through the air. Everyone turns backs to the phone. "I have heard what you've done to some extent. Not very laudable, was it?"

"I-I'm sorry..." Italy looks at the floor, shifting around on his feet before taking in a deep breath. "But I-just-"

"You're far from just a fool!" Austria cuts him off, the sudden increase in volume causing most to recoil. "You're an outright idiot! Do you have any idea how much you made your brother worry?!" Italy's expression drops. Germany frowns at Italy's state.

"H-hey, you don't have to go that far--"

"No!" Prussia shouts, holding his hand up. "Keep talking, rich boy!" Prussia grins as he waves Italy over. "Hey, Italy! Take a look outside!" Italy furrows his brow, lips parting. He looks around before slowly approaching the window. His eyes widen, squeaking. The front yard is covered with nations, each huddled into groups.

"Everyone..." Italy's eyes widen, hand gripping the window frame. His nose is practically pressed against the window.

"Italy!" Austria's voice calls him out of his daze.

"Y-yes, sir?!"

"I don't approve of your actions." Italy's face drops. "However, you've done an excellent job. I commend you for your courage." Italy straightens up. That's unexpected. No one has said that to him. "The whole world has come out to help you. But unfortunately, we couldn't find a way to get in. We'll have to support you from outside, however frustrating this may be."

"Whoa! Those over there are the Nordics... and over there are..." You stand beside France, Russia perching over your shoulder.

"Even Ukraine and Belarus are here!" Russia smiles.

"Everyone..." Italy repeats.

"Amazing. We really have to get out, all together." England looks to America beside him, an uncharacteristic grin on his face. America smiles back. Italy opens his mouth, muttering under his breath as he looks around. He then stares at the phone from a moment, blinking. Japan and Germany step up behind him, smiling encouragingly.

"Yes?" Japan asks, inclining his head.

"I'm all un-alone." Italy holds his breath, eyes becoming red-rimmed. you give a soft exhale at that, feeling it hit you deeply. Honestly, this boy had been through so much and now he's faced with the reality of this all. Of how his friends always have hi back no matter the situation. This isn't like when he was worried Germany wasn't his friend. It is so much more than that! Its a real turning point for him.

"Un-alone..." You echo his words, smiling to yourself. Italy with his memories was your friend, and even though you had butted heads with the first players ever so often you knew that by the time this was all over they too would call you a friend too. You just needed to power through this all and encourage everyone along the way. 

Italy drifts off for a moment before he stares at you, and he feels that special feeling well up inside of him as he squeals and runs towards you, grabbing you in a hug. He almost drops the phone, forgetting he's surrounded by everyone. He looks so happy. No longer restricted by his dark thought.

"It's just like you said." He grabs your shoulders. "This place is very very weird, si, but everyone is here for me. For everyone! For us!"

"Of course we are! You should broaden your horizons!" Austria shouts. "This world is far too big for you to think you are the only one here. You should come home soon. The cakes I baked you are getting cold." He stops a moment. "I have to admit, this is uncanny. It is not every day we can get this many countries to work together out of their free will."

"It's like everyone made an alliance." Romano shuffles beside Italy and throws his arm around his shoulder, tilting his chin up.

"It's a unity warming." China nods. America laughs.

"It's true. We can never get anything done together when we have a meeting, and yet we all start working together when it gets down to it." America announces, planting his hands on his hips. 

"You're right." Canada agrees.

"It's a given." Spain nods along, knocking his elbow into Romano. "Aside from our duties and relationships as countries, we only have each other as fellow nations."

"You're right. Oh!" Italy then lights up, turning back to you, smiling. "(F/n)'s family is out there! They got lost in here, but their family's out there! Can you look for them?" Italy asks. You smile thankfully, bowing your head in thanks as you begin to fiddle with your hands.

"Quick thinking." Germany nods before he reaches for the phone. He hands it to you. "Who should they be looking out for?" He stares intently down at you.

"Huh?" You rub at your wrist, scrunching up your face. A crease forms on Germany's brow. Prussia grins down at you.

"A promise is a promise. We said we'd help you, didn't we? The awesome Prussia never goes back on his word!" He laughs sharply, prideful. He then grins at you, messing up your hair. "So, who should this tight-ass be looking for? How big is this mysterious family of yours?" You flush in embarrassment.

"Oh, I'm just..." You wander off before shaking your head. You look up at Germany, voice soft. "My little s̷̬̭͚͖͓̈́i̴̼̰̳͔̽͆̽̂ͅs̸̢͍̜̊ť̶̗̠̲̕ẽ̸̖̔͐̇r̵̞̰̭͓̠̔̓̐͑'̴̬͚̬̦͕̂͌͝ŝ̶̨̳͎̦̱ out there,(̶̜̥͌͐͠S̶̘͕̪͑́̾į̶̡̮̍̒͂s̸̖̣̹̝͉͑̄̈́̒̂t̴̠̎ȩ̶̧̗͖̅͝r̵̼̬̊ͅ'̶̜͓̜̉͌̑s̵̢̪̞̠̈̌ ̷͚̺̞̳̔̈͐N̶̦̑ȃ̶̹m̶̭̱͈̭͉̍ȅ̴̞̩̦̎)̵̡͙̯̀͋͐̀. She's 9̴̖͍͒̏̓,̶̠̫̣̘͓̆̋͐͠͝ ̶̨̛̠̠̺̈́̔͑̈b̴͔͔̋r̵̼͍̺̔̋͠o̷̹̍̿̿͘w̵̨͙̞̩̳̋͛̍̋̓ṋ̵̡̲̙͂́̇͘ ̴͇̺̙͆̌̕h̵͍̍̕a̴̻͚̝͂̌̓̄͜͝ȉ̸̩͎̘̄̾͑̋r̴̡̪͍͈͇͑̽̏̽,̵̢̻͙̆̏͂͗͘ ̷̔͜b̸̥̟̯̯̳͛͑̃̅͛r̵̤̲͋̄͛̆͑o̵̧͖̺̻̥̒̅̈́͌̽w̵̡̾̒̄̐̏n̴͕̫̘͇̖̅̃̈́ ̶̖̲̺̯̓͗̍e̶̬̠̱͚͈̅̕y̷̛̞̘͂͋͐̓e̶̢̙͉͑s̶̡̠̞̙̣̓̌̿̒̄." You give a short laugh. "Loud, but shy." You then look down at the floor, mulling over your thoughts. God, this feels so surreal. You didn't think you'd find your family til after all this is done. "And so is my--" You don't get to finish, jumping back out of reflex as the phone is knocked from Germany's hand. A gunshot. Germany pulls back in shock, shaking his hand as he grunts. Someone shot it straight out of his hand. France looks back at you, ushering you back. The group is all hushed whispers as they form some sort of shield, you and Italy congregated at the back. Then England yelps, the floor opening up below him and swallowing him.

"England!" America yells, reaching out, but Britain is already gone. Kumajirou gives a deep growl, his white fur fizzing up as he bears his teeth. He's not the only one on guard. America glares down the hall. "Where is he?!"

"You talk a lot." Luciano stands front and centre, a cocky smile on his face. He holds a gun, just like every other second player. "But I didn't expect you guys to call reinforcements so earlier. It's like you're admitting you can't win against us mano a mano."

"We'll fight you! Anytime! Anywhere!" America yells, drawing his gun and raising it at Luciano. Your breath catches. If they start a fight, they'll die. They can't survive a bullet to the head. They won't heal. America's face is scrunched up in frustration, the aim of his weapon darting between each Second Player as he begins to take deep steady breaths. You notice the lack in players. Flavio and Andres are nowhere to be seen.

"(F/n)!" Canada whispers under his breath. You look at him, frantic. They're gonna start a fight. But they're acting like it's nothing! Canada nods his head toward the stairs. You look towards it, the staircase empty, before returning your gaze to him. You furrow your brow, raising your hands slightly.

"Kinder, retreat." Prussia is right beside you, a hand placed on your shoulder and shoving you towards the stairs. You stumble before getting the message, hiding behind the wall. You stop, knees half bent as you perch there. Prussia gets out the line of fire as Luciano begins. "I want you to go find a place to hide. I will find you."

"But I--"

"Even when the gunshots stop, don't come out until I come and get you, okay?" He nods his head at you, red eyes staring intently. It feels like moments ago when you sat on your bed chatting, but now he's trying to get you away. Away from the inevitable battle. He places his hands on your shoulder, giving a cheeky grin. How he can pull a face like that is beyond you?

"I can't just--"

"Ciao!?" Luciano's shouting makes you flinch back. "Paste-y fucker, I'm talking to you!" Your body freezes up as Prussia releases a haggard sigh. He pats your head, smiling softly before stepping upfront.

"Today the awesome me will be showing you how to deal with lippy Italians." Prussia proclaims, unsheathing his sword with a shit-eating grin on his face. He marches forward, making his way past Germany and Spain.

"I don't have time for your narcissism. Where is the Hetalian?" Your eyes fill with dread. Both Italy and Japan look at you. They know he means you. They know to give you over. 

"Me and you pronounce 'butt-kicking' very differently." Prussia steps forward, his steps heavy.

"You have three seconds." Luciano raises his voice, but still sounding bored. You perk up, eyes widening as you look over in his direction, but you can't see him. Would the First Players let you go?

"We don't have what you want." Germany is stiff, his back ramrod straight. He doesn't even glance back. 

"There's no point in hiding, I know you're nearby." Luciano ignores him, speaking to you. He then gives a sardonic chuckle. "You wouldn't let them come out here without you." You shrink down. He's so smug about it, and you feel yourself curling up. Some of the First Players glance at you. You can't tell if its for you to stay put or panic. "Three seconds or I start shooting." 

"We don't have 'Hetalian'." Japan speaks up, frowning. Then his brows relaxes, like the reality of it is hitting him, something finally clicking, before he looks at you.

"Tre." Luciano starts. Japan is staring at you intensely, and Italy is muttering under his breath. "Du--" Italy starts to hyperventilate.

"You aren't getting anything," Germany yells. "Not from us."

"I guess we--" You lunge towards Germany, grabbing his arm before he raises his weapon. Your breathing picks up.

"Don't." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries down the hallway. Luciano is staring at you, eyes pensively gazing you over. 

"Hetalia." Japan finally speaks up. His eyes light up in recognition, staring at you.

"What?" America looks at Japan, then back at you. "What are you talking about?" Japan thinks back to that first night. You said Hetalia.

"You're a Hetalian. That show--" He cuts himself off, before looking off at the Second Players. It all clicks. "The show we're in..." You chuckle nervously. 

"I did tell you." 

I told you and you didn't believe me. I told you you were from an anime, and then I said I had a favourite anime. Didn't you realise they are one in the same? Didn't you realise that the worst possible thing you could have said to me was that you didn't believe me when I said I know what's gonna happen? To call me a liar?!

"So everything you said was true?" Romano looks at you in astonishment. You nod, looking away meekly.

"What about England?!" America raises his voice, throwing his hands in the air.

"Come here." Luciano orders you, pointing to his side. You scowl, eyeing him in disbelief. His brow twitches.

"No way!" America yells. His face scrunches up in anger. "Give us England."

"In return for them?" You stop, breath hitching. "I mean if that's the best you can offer I don't think I'll take it. As much as I hate the guy, he's worth more than a human." 

"No! We want both!" America clenches his fists in frustration.

"Bit greedy," Luciano smirks. "But that's to be expected from you."

"What's that meant--" Canada elbows America, scowling in reprimand. They need to keep calm, but America doesn't do that He's never done that. "What?!" He also doesn't understand all the hostile glances in his direction.

"Come here now." Luciano's voice is a warning, his face wiped away from the earlier snarkiness.

"Me for England." You whisper, nodding to yourself.  You can feel the First Players shift. You look back at them. "It's a fair enough trade for him. in my books." You give a tiny grin, but France stops any advance with a  hand to your shoulder. 

"We just said no." France scowls, and Prussia reaches forward to grab your other wrist. You dart your attention between the two. 

"You need England for this." You tell them, before falling your gaze onto France. You know their fights between one another are only skin deep, he cares for the guy! You need to convince him and everyone else will follow.

"I will not put someone's life on the line for these people." He emplores.

"You didn't get a decision with Englands life, but I do." You frown, stating how it is.

"You can't do this." Prussia loosens his grip on you, and you snatch your hand back as you frown. Why does he look so heartbroken? Luciano clicks his tongue, lifting his gun at you.

"Put your gun away." France warns, reaching for his own weapon. Germany follows suit, and soon all hands are on weapons. You scowl, sucking in a big gulp of air before sighing. 

These idiots.

"It's the human for England." Luciano brings back his cool. You watch him through a scowl. You're angry with him. This wasn't what he said was planned. This wasn't how it was supposed to play out! He's so nonchalant about this, so uncaring that he'd put everything at risk. For a moment, he looks back over his shoulder to Oliver. You thin your lips at their interaction. Oliver just glances at him, grip tightening on his weapon of choice: a butchers knife. 

How comical.

"I'd say that's a good enough deal." Lutz grins, stepping to the forefront. He crosses his arms across his chest, muscles bulging as he nods towards you and Prussia, grinning. "The kid seems to agree."

"I--" you begin, but stop yourself. You're directly in the middle. You can make a choice. 

Go to the 2p!'s in exchange for England, or go back without him? What's the likelihood of getting away without a fight? What's the likeliness of people dying? You don't have a choice, but you can't trust Luciano! What if he's tricking you? What if there's something more to this? It can't be that simple! I want to be swapped for England, I want him to return to the First Players, but what if somethings up?!

"See! They don't want to go! So give us England back!" America begins to yell. You look back at him, your stare sharp. He needs to pack it in. You're too busy brainstorming to notice him shrink under it.

"This can't be real." Romano splitters. You feel something snap.

"I told you." You begin, voice thick. "Hetalia. Hetalian. What's so hard to understand?! Britain for me! You need him and they're giving you an easy swap. There's nothing else to it."

"There's more to it than this." You catch Canada mutters under his breath. "There has to be something we're missing...."

"You can't go over there!" Prussia shouts at you, making you jump.

"Let them make their own decision, Prussia." Spain chides, unsure.

"You don't think they can make that decision for themselves? You know what's better for them than they do?" Luciano raises a brow.

It's your decision.

Who do you choose?
- First Players: +1AP for all
- Second Players: +1AP for all

A/N: Okay guys! As this is based on a game, you get to pick! First Players or Second Player. The choice that reaches 10 first is the path to follow, and that'll be the case for any options. I wanted to have an interaction with fans. Make this feel more real and depending on your choice. You can affect future choices and character relationships. But I will be on hiatus for a while. Until then comment the choice you want.