Poland got up from the floor that she had randomly fallen in. It was gross and mouldy and piss yellow. The place seemed both claustrophobic and huge at the same time. There were random pillars and the wall was covered in wallpaper the same nauseating yellow as the floor. There were light sources, but it didn't seem like the environnement matched it. The ceiling was tiled, like in a classroom, or an office. Poland was pretty sure she'd seen some images and theories of this place while scrolling, but she wasn't quite sure what the place was called. The name definitely had something to do with rooms, and the theories had often brought up-
Poland pointed her magic spear at the source of the noise. She now wished it was one of the weird black things she saw in pictures of the place. Because at the other end of her weapon was a man she was glad she would never have to see again.
Third Reich looked at her in disbelief.
"What are you doing here," he asked. His voice was raspy, as if he hadn't drank or spoken in years, and it was much less confident than when she'd known him.
He was dishevelled and nervous, and feathers and blood stuck on to the remains of his old uniform. His left wing had been broken and set wrong, hanging pitifully behind him. He obviously hadn't eaten in ages either.
Poland shrugged. She didn't know either. She was walking to the bus stop and randomly fell through the ground like in a laggy video game.
"Is this where you've been for the past 80 years," she asked back.
"Unfortunately," he answered.
"Unfortunately," Poland questioned.
Roach's eyes widened and he pointed at something behind Poland, which she immediately speared. It was one of the spindly things.
"Dude. Uncool," it said in response.
"Huh," Poland said, slightly shocked.
"It wasn't cool that you randomly speared me," it answered back "Didn't your parents ever tell you it's rude to attempt to kill people?"
Poland was gonna give it a snarky retort, but was interrupted by le Roach.
"YOU CAN TALK?"
"Yeah, what do you think I'm doing right now? Feeding the ducks?"
As Britain would usually say, "Be ffwc", or "What the fuck".Poland found this phrase quite applicable in this moment. Especially since she was witnessing Emmerich von Adler, physical representation of the Third Reich, one of the most terrifying and powerful country the world has seen, freak out over a thing being able to talk and understand latin. That man has defeated the Frances, at the time renowned as a military genius and a prodigy, intimidated a lot of Europe into surrendering or joining him, killed her, and managed to beat up Soviet and Britain pretty badly, both notoriously hard to invade and with incredibly powerful Favours, yet he was loosing his mind at something being able to speak in latin.
"Why weee you stalking me," Reich asked.
"You looked lost, so I was trying to help you," it answered.
"Why didn't you say anything," Reich yelled back, sounding exasperated.
"...You looked lost, so I was trying to help you," it repeated, quieter this time.
"Can you get us out of here," Poland interjected.
"Yeah, I can noclip you both back into your world," it answered back enthusiastically.
"Great, I'd like to go home," she said.
"Goodbye guys," it said, before Poland and Reich fell out the floor.
———
Poland fell onto Reich. It was not fun, especially since she was much larger than him.
They were in the middle of a meeting. A man dressed in white, which Reich vaguely remembered being UN, sat at the forefront with other people he guessed were other Organizations. Five country faced the Organizations, and the rest were arranged in a semi-circle around the room, like in a lecture hall.
"Ah, Poland, good timing. It was just about going to be your turn to present," UN said flatly, seemingly ignoring the fact she'd just fallen out of nowhere, and there was a genocidal maniac in the room.
Four of the five countries who sat up front pointed weapons they had for some reason at Reich.
"What do we do with him," a woman asked UN.
She was tall and broad, with pale braided hair, steel gray eyes, dressed in an office dress and fur shawl. Her flag was, from top to bottom, red, white and blue. She pointed a rifle at him. It was probably Soviet's daughter, RSFSR, though she seemed much older.
"I think most of Europe agrees that we should kill him and be done with him," a familiar man said.
He was athletic and graceful, with long silver hair tied behind his head, half mask covering the part of his face Reich had burned. He wore a white blouse and held a rapier, giving him a musketeer look. He had a tricolour, red, then white, and the half mask being blue. France. Reich felt a twisted sense of satisfaction seeing one of the people he despised the most still having obvious scars he inflicted.
"Come on, now, why so harsh? Shouldn't you-" Reich started.
"Dos i chwarae efo dy nain, (fuck off)" the woman at France's right hissed.
She was slender, curly blue hair resting on her shoulders, a pronged horn poking out, and a single wing extended as an act of intimidation. She wore her usual green jacket over a dress shirt and slacks, and was threatening Reich with a pair of daggers and the tip of her tail. Her flag was a series of white and red crosses overlapping over a blue background. Reich, again, felt prideful seeing the gray streak of hair and missing wing Britain had sustained from the war.
"I'm just saying."
The fourth one that was armed looked at UN.
"We await your instructions, sir. We wont kill him unless ordered," he said, and France mumbled something.
His hair was messier than when Reich last saw him, and his eyes were covered by shades. His wings were extended as well, though higher up than Britains. He had a gun targeting Reich's forehead. America had grown even colder and more terrifying in the decades Reich hadn't seen him.
"You are to keep him alive and keep him under your constant supervision. In the mean time, I'll figure out a more permanent arrangement," UN responded, "As tempting as it may be, you do not, in any circumstance, unless ordered to do so by me, kill him. I'm looking at you two especially," he glared at the two fallen empires.
"Well, there goes my weekend plan," France said, in a tone Reich hoped was sarcastic.
"Does that include me," the fifth country asked.
She had straight black hair and golden horns. Half her face was covered by a fan, and she wore a traditional dress and fur coat. Her flag was red, with a star surrounded by four smaller ones. She was probably China's younger sister, whom Reich had seen in passing.
"Yes, you too," UN said. "Since you five have already presented, why dont you bring Reich on a little tour of the town?"
The first four lowered their weapons and the fifth got up. States grabbed his arm and practically dragged me out the room. Reich looked over to Britain and France. With Britain, it was hard to tell, but France clearly looked like he was willing to test how far he could go without technically killing him.
Reich felt like his second chance at life was going to be difficult.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
Last minute April fools(ish) post because I was busy the whole day.
I really like the backrooms entity. I have christened them Bob.
Th Representations all know basic latin to communicate between each other, since science uses it, why not them too.
Also, if there are any welsh speakers here, I'm sorry if I butchered your language, I tried my best.
