The roaring of the two monsters were the sounds that made the earth shake with fear as they ripped through enemy lines like they were nothing but paper.
Exactly what their allies had needed in a battle against such a merciless foe.

Tails whipped the air as they slammed their jaws down on unsuspecting soldiers and mutilated their bodies with their claws with little to no shame; after all, it was what the enemy deserved. A life for a life, right?
Crimson splattered across their faces- golden eyes shining with a newfound rage and a hatred that had been growing inside them. Building up and clawing at their minds until they were finally able to gain their release; through murder and bloodshed.

Around them, swords and knives clashed together and soldiers leapt upon each other like savage dogs trained to fight and kill. Colours and flags merging with blood as they tore each other apart with their weapons and their own hands- yanking at hair and punching at ribs. Digging their boots down into the stomachs and wounds of their opponents with gritted teeth of white and dirt; twisting their blades and screaming out their lungs to each other.

Kazakhstan's wings beat against the ash-filled skies. Shooting through clouds of smoke and fumes that flowed from the earth and the massacred forests that laid strewn out beneath him like a ripped-up sheet. He squinted his eyes behind his goggles as he looked around before signalling to his soldiers who followed behind- leading them down towards the growing battle that was still raging beneath them like newly embers.
The wind was already crying around them and the screaming of soldiers beneath deafened the avians of the sky- but Kazakhstan continued to press his fingers against his palms while looking towards his allies. Speaking and talking to them in an unspoken language that all had them nodding their heads and pulling out small sets of daggers from their gloves. Silver gleamed beneath their fingers as they aimed towards the targets they shot down towards.

And like a rain of arrows, they hit the soldiers beneath them. Driving their palms and daggers deep into the heads and necks of those they hit. Claws and talons stabbing into the shoulders of the screaming enemies as they took them down to the ground one by one. Like crows amongst carrion.

Picking off their prey and ripping away their lives.
Feathers of gold, white, brown and black fluttering through the air and smoke- resting amongst the bodies of the soldiers they hit.

The Admiral panted heavily as he continued to drive his dagger deeper and deeper into the chest of his target. Listening to the gurgling screams of the man who stood under him with buckling knees- choking on his own blood and tears as he clawed desperately at Kazakhstan's legs and arms. And soon, collapsing under the weight of the hybrid who did nothing but push himself off and launch himself back up into the skies.
Blood dripping from his fingers and his goggles- a splatter of beautiful crimson laying across his golden feathers. Emotionless eyes of glass staring down towards the still struggling and crying debris of humans and mortals alike.

He watched as his soldiers rose back up into the skies around him- all covered in blood and sweat and tears. Wings beating tiredly against the elements that they belonged to. Tails shifting against the wind- something Kazakhstan envyed.
Oh to have a tail. A beautiful tail of feathers and patterns alike. A stupid dream and an impossible wish. A dream he would pray for at Christmas and his birthday when he was younger. Desperately sitting on a rooftop and crying out towards the stars for that delicate part.
A selfish selfish memory.

A selfish dr-

An arrow shot past Kazakhstan and he barely had enough time to dodge- the tip of stone lightly slicing across his cheek as he drove himself out of the way. Hissing as his blood began to run down his cheek.
It wasn't long until rows upon rows of arrows began to drive themselves through the clouds towards the waiting soldiers who began to scatter- dodging and manoeuvring with cries of hysteria and pain. Kazakhstan grunted as his wings slammed against the air and shot himself up higher and higher, glancing around to make sure his allies were safe and well. Roughly dragging a gloved hand across his cheek- smearing the blood across his skin like war paint before he began to look for the soldiers that aimed crossbows up towards the sky. Eyes narrowing.

✞———————❖———————✞

Canada frowned upon the sight of his uncle returning from battle- the fleet he had brought with him now nothing more than a handful of men and women who were covered in injuries and slathered in crimson. But his eyes lit up very slightly as Ireland stumbled over to him and clapped a hand over his shoulder once he pulled off his gloves, smiling grimly before it fell.

"I need to talk to you..."He spoke in a hushed voice, glancing back towards the next group of soldiers who nearly fell through the door. Several having arrows sticking out of their arms and backs- blood splattering in clumps across the hard, cold stone.

It wasn't long until Ireland was leading Canada to his quarters- completely ignoring the fact that he was meant to report to his brother and other Generals that had stayed stagnant behind the castle walls. Away from death and the dangers that their enemies could throw onto them; hypocrites and selfish kin.
The Prince watched Ireland lead the way, glancing down to take note of the droplets of blood and mud that trailed behind the General- dark and dirty with sin. It wasn't a nice sight and it wasn't an uncommon one either to Canada.

The sight of limping soldiers stumbling and collapsing through the gates alongside his uncles was something that he could never let go of. The cold dinners he had as a child at the long dark wood table in the hall with Ireland and his second uncle Scotland. Staring and glancing over to their bandages and slings for their arms; beaten skin and broken dreams scattered across their facial expressions. The sound of the clicking grandfather clock that echoed ever so slightly around them that one dinner time.
And the sounds of a soldier running in to declare some piece of news of a battle that had his two uncles scattering to their feet and leaving him there. All alone with his meal. All alone with himself and that clock that loomed over him at the end of the hall. So ominous and so evil.

Canada opened the door to Ireland's quarters, stepping aside to let his uncle stumble in with a low and shaky groan. Watching the taller drag himself over to his desk before letting himself drop heavily into his chair- wood creaking at the sudden weight.
The Prince closed the door and sat down at the foot of Ireland's bedpost, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his arms on his knees as he leaned back.

"So..."He hesitated and sighed quietly, "what happened...?"

Ireland rubbed at his face with a yawn and cocked his head to the side. "Your father attacked the territory of the Prince of the Mountains and the North. Finland, his name." A wince as Ireland wiped some blood from his chin with a frown.
"Britain made sure to annihilate the enemy fleet and made sure to wreak as much havoc and chaos across that Prince's forests as possible. Uprooting his beautiful trees and creating routes through his forest so that Britain's army would tread upon all those beautiful bluebells..."
A saddened look spread across Ireland's face as he looked down at the floor with glassy eyes.

"I remember... wanting to visit that country when I was younger...
I remember the books and words I had read and heard of the beautiful blue flowers that grew there... The titanium white snow that would fall gently almost eternally across the land and turn it into a wonderland of winter and autumn..."
The General looked towards his nephew, "it saddens me... to have to lead a squadron of soldiers through a forest I would have once wanted to explore..."

This wasn't something Canada would have ever expected to hear. The General admitting to loving the land of the enemy, loving the flowers and the beautiful nature that the enemy Prince had learned to look after and tend to and respect.
Admitting to loving things that his own brother hated and wanted to have destroyed and wiped away from the earth and history itself.

Canada knew that his uncle didn't have the heart of a monster. And though he held a high position of power and destruction in Britain's kingdom, he still held and stuck tightly to his dreams and morals.
Something that other soldiers had completely forgotten about.

"I... I killed someone..." Ireland's whisper broke the silence as he gazed down at his trembling hands.
And Canada rose a brow in confusion. He knew Ireland would have to kill in order to keep his place like the rest of the soldiers and people who had earned their place in this Kingdom but...-

"They were a soldier of Finland's... A stag. A beautiful stag with mesmerizing antlers and eyes that showed me nothing but the harsh realities and beauty of winter and ice... Freckles of snow and hair like heather..." The General gritted his teeth.

"I didn't want to fight him... I didn't want to hurt him but your father- He stared me down and pressured me to..."

Ireland flexed his hands a little and reached out as if reaching for the pommel of a sword and gripping it tightly. Holding nothing but air.
The weapon that he had used in battle countless times.
"I stabbed him. But I stabbed him in the heart and I yanked him close to my chest and I kept him there. Even when I felt the warmth of his innocent blood on my hands, I held him there and I talked to him quietly..."

The echoes of screams and cries filled the room and Ireland's head. The explosions of dirt and the collapsing of soldiers on either side of the battlefield. The gasping of the soldier he had held to his chest and the breathlessness he had heard close to his ear.
"I told him it'd be okay..."

And Canada started to his feet and headed over to his uncle who gritted his teeth and tried to hold back his tears. Shaking hands of crusted and dried blood still reaching out towards nothingness.
"I told him... We'll fix it..."
A mumble.

✞———————❖———————✞

America gripped tightly onto the reins of Prince; the white and silver speckled stallion galloping strongly and contently under him. Muscles twitching and eyes wide and flared with freedom and so many other things that drove him to run. His mane blew wildly in the wind and America squinted his eyes, watching Ukraine who rode ahead of him on the back of Ches. The two being a strong duo who lead the way towards the battlefield that awaited them on the horizon.

He couldn't deny the fact that he was terrified. He had never truly seen the destruction that his father could spread and create across a piece of land- across a beautiful area of territory that once had been wonderous and almost dreamlike. But the clouds and fumes of smoke and ash that rose into the sky ahead told him enough as they drew closer and closer to the inevitable and expected bloodbath.

Ukraine glanced back towards his friend. The stranger boy. But he didn't glance back in anger or vengeance. Only a worried and sympathetic look spread across his face before he turned again and stared ahead- gripping his reins tighter and squeezing his thighs against Ches's back. The horse only replying with a subtle grunt and a strong gallop that sent them running faster through the forest.
The smell of smoke and death stung his nose, and the Prince of Werewolves winced and teared up at the burning sensation that punched the back of his throat. Swallowing hard and sighing shakily against the warming breeze that brushed his cheek.

Ches grunted and yanked against his reigns slightly as they began to make their way up a hill. Heading higher and higher. America soon caught up to his friend with Prince. The silver horse also beginning to show signs of agitation and nervousness, huffing roughly and yanking its head to the side.
"Is this even safe, Ukie...?" America mumbled as he reached up and batted away a lock of hair from his face, squinting and sighing as he looked over to the werewolf. Watching him perk up and tilt his head back with a look of concern.
"I don't know... I don't think anything is really safe anymore," he smiled a little to himself half-heartedly. As if knowing that even America could be someone of a bad cause. A bad home.

"But we'll be there together."

And with that, the two continued on their way up the hill. Having to duck whenever a low-hanging tree came across their path, waving around hands to shove away dark and lichen-covered branches. Brittle and heavy with age. Hooves digging against the rock and mud and dirt that lay under them as Ches and Prince huffed against the freezing air- breath visible and wafting into nothingness.
The trees began to clear ahead of them as they broke through the shrub, horses staggering over the peak of the hill, huffing and shaking their heads to the side.

Ukraine swallowed and winced as the burning sensation only grew in his throat and nose, watching the smoke rise from the battlefield that now lay before them. A perfect view of something so opposite of perfection.
America bit back a small gasp of shock, gripping Prince's reigns tightly as he stared out towards the lines of soldiers that fought each other. The fire that crept onto the branches of the surrounding forest, the sludge and the mud that covered the whole scene. A wrecked piece of nature and land that had been engulfed with the hatred and justice of two Kingdoms.

And amidst the carnage and chaos, America could make out the two large figures of inky-black monsters that ripped through soldiers. With jaws and claws snapping down on the enemy and tails lashing through the air like whips, slamming their way into the guts of unsuspecting armed officers who held nothing but looks of rage.

America knew exactly who the monster he was looking at was. Eyes locked on the light glint of gold that held on tightly onto the horns of the creature that roared and groaned relentlessly. Tilting his head as he caught sight of those fiery eyes that held nothing but so many strong emotions.
The Prince of werewolves sighed shakily. "Russia is getting tired... He's exhausted. All these lives and blood," Ukraine shook his head. "Is it really worth it...?"He mumbled more to himself as he glanced over to America who was still sitting there in a state of shock.

"I..." America swallowed down his words, looking to his friend and staring into those golden eyes. The eyes of a boy who had seen so much and yet knew so little- of the truth behind the stranger who sat in front of him and shared his food.

The thought of Ukraine's reaction to America's past scared him, and America could only shake his head and look back towards the battlefield. Blue eyes trailing across the mass of soldiers and creatures that fought against each other. Sword against sword. Fist against claw. Skin against teeth.
It was something America had never seen before.

"Who is that?" He asked, pointing in the direction of the opposite side of the battlefield. Towards the second beast who roared and split soldiers in two like they were nothing but paper. With thorns and spikes sticking out of its spine and the tail of a lizard-like creature snapping the air as it lunged across bodies.
"That is Germany. A close childhood friend of Russia's. And also the King of Demons," Ukraine smiled halfheartedly, but it was short-lived.

"They work strongly together. Trained each other in the past and have always looked out for each other whenever one was in need or in trouble."

America nodded and he turned to watch the havoc unfold before him. Noting down the scent of burning smoke and wood that had engulfed the air, poisoning the last of the once beautiful cold and pine-scented air of Finland and Russia's border.
The sight of the enemy soldiers sent a shiver up his spine, and he could only wonder what would have happened if things hadn't been all bad.
Or all good?

Would he have been fighting there if he hadn't been thrown out by his father?
Would he be the one ripping through creatures and stabbing a sword through their hearts?

Would he be the one with blood on his hands?

Fidgeting, America bit his lip and tried to shove the thoughts towards the back of his mind. Letting his eyes run freely across the battlefield before a glint caught his eye. Staring towards the furthest end of the now wrecked forest where enemy soldiers had gushed out of like an open wound.
Towards the group of soldiers who heaved in a large piece of dark-purple stone, waving their hands towards each other as they began to hurry around the stone like ants.

He watched cautiously, making sure as to keep his eyes locked on the small scene at the back of the battle. Staring as two soldiers trudged out the forest and up towards the end of the black stone, carrying an object concealed by nothing but what America thought could be a ragged cloth.

But his eyes widened as they pulled back the old material, revealing some sort of golden orb that glowed brightly from where it was held.
And America was immediately hit with so many thoughts.
So many words.
Sentences.

No.

Stop it.
Please.

Not again.

I beg of you.

Please

PLEASE-

America gripped his head and staggered off of Prince, landing on his knees at the side of the stallion who grunted and neighed violently, mud splattering across his uniform. Yanking himself back while Ukraine rushed over to his friend. Yelling and throwing concerned questions at the boy who now kneeled there at the edge of the hill.

Gripping his head and his ears. Arching his back downwards with his head towards the earth.
The screaming getting louder before he gasped and snapped his head up.
Watching the second the soldiers shoved the orb into the stone. The second a pitiful and painful screech split the battlefield air.

The horrendous glow that America stared at as he shoved himself to his feet and looked down towards the field.

Towards the soldiers and the creatures who turned ever so slightly to see what the commotion was at the end of the field.

And as the glow grew brighter and the screeching fell silent.

Only then did America scream until his lungs gave out and his eyes spilled tears.

"RUSSIA-"

And even that tall monster of a King cocked his head and looked up towards the boy who stood on that hill, fiery eyes gleaming and pupils almost appearing out of shock.

Before a ray of gold and purple light shot across the battlefield.

And the screaming truly began.

--------------------------------------------------

Time to start throwing action into this thing.

I'm sorry I've taken my time to write and update this story.
So many things have happened in my life and so many bad things have affected me during the past three months or so-

but I've finally been able to finish this chapter and finally get some ideas of what I'm going to write c:

I really hope you'll enjoy it!!!

Tomorrow will be a long day, I'll be opening commissions and I'm beyond terrified but I'm going to do my best. So this might mean writing the next chapter won't start immediately, but I'll make sure to update the story sooner than I did for this chapter!

Please give me some feedback

I'm so tired ohgod

Enjoy this mess of a chapter <33333
Word count: 3318

07/12 Edit:

I would love to share some absolutely phenomenal fanart by the amazing Amaura1406
I know she's spent so many hours on this piece for this chapter and I absolutely love it <33

Your art will always surprise me and will never stop to amaze me :)