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CHAPTER 13: The United Nations

CHINA
Ever since America's discovery of the letter's writers, there was a sudden burst of motivation from all ten of them, but that energy was short-lived and so was the collaboration.

For the next few days he had tried to answer the seemingly unlimited list of questions, connecting together truth, lie and mystery as the morning rose and the nights fell. Hunched over the same table for hours at once, days became a blur of small talk, battles of resilience with his own wit, and trying to stop America and his friends from burning down the house.

It was a tedious job. The initial excitement only lasted so long, for they all found themselves annoyingly at a lack of more information, no matter how much they attempted to connect more clues. Every discovery led to a dead end. Every lead was false. And every attempt to find out the whereabouts of the Axis Representatives — were futile. The closest they had got to anything was Canada's discovery of a missing persons file for the three, stolen from a data folder he accessed pretending to be France and Britain.

Meals continued with the divide, and the rooming situation seemed to be working for now, because they were often never in their bedrooms except for when they slept. Sometimes, while China and his friends planned, America and the others were too busy trying to decode the clues behind the letters they had been sent, searching up every possible meaning behind Veritas Point on their phones. Eventually, when all hope seemed lost, they joined the collective effort of the others, free of any suspicion that would be aroused if they remained, or were seen together, near Global High. Quill scratching, ballpoint pen scribbling, and occasional yells of realization were all they knew for some time.

But if they had done anything, they had did what they initially came for: forming the break-in plan to where the Portal Path was.

They were to break into the Central Tower again, the third floor, to be precise, at an hour past midnight with the same card they had used to get into UN's office. From there, they would get Germany to bypass the face ID scan with a printout of AU's face (because that woman had put her photos all over RepX) — and off to the Real World they would go, if no obstacles hindered their course.

The only significantly mentionable thing that happened during the few dull, monochrome days of unceasing research and preparation was Russia — who seemed to finally gain a thought behind his normally hazy grey eyes — smashing his phone with a sledgehammer he had somehow found in the backyard. The shatter threw shards of glass everywhere, finally undoing the solemn quietude of the room.

Japan muttered a string of cuss words that we unfortunately cannot recap in this book, and South's jaw fell as he collapsed to the grounds and cradled the remains of Russia's poor phone like it was a person.

"Soviet will kill you, Russia!" Ukraine shrieked. "Do you know how much we paid—"

"We're all morons!" Russia yelled. America looked perplexingly from side to side before mouthing is this staged? to Canada, who shrugged, looking equally confused.

"Have you ever considered the fact that UN can track us by the signal of our phones? He's probably already discovered that all of us are gone and is trying to find out where we are?" Russia said, looking rather psychotic. "Hand over your phone," he said, pointing to South.

"This isn't North Korea," South retaliated, and his brother looked sternly at him. "UN is not tracking us like some... ruthless dictator."

"Actually, it's possible," Germany chirped.

"You're not helping!"

"There is a resemblance," sighed China, shaking his head, and handed his phone to Russia. Another shatter shot across the room. "Hiding information, propaganda, endorsing a perfect world, I wouldn't be surprised if he was tracking us. You know, I barely do anything on my phones anyway. I only used it to chat with people."