Saudade | CountryHumans RusAme

61 ‎ ‎ ‎The Truth At Last

ROMANIA
Vietnam's worry was palpable even through a video call. "I've done all of this for you," he said, voice released with an unmistakable tremor. "Don't mess it up." 

"Class just ended," Switzerland's brassy input from the other side of the line came. "Do it now." 

"What if something happens?" she asked quietly, the sentiment so feeble that she was sure that neither of her two peers had heard it. But alas, the response came so fervently: silence. 

"I don't know," Vietnam whispered, honestly, weakly. "We haven't had much time to set this entire thing up. The information that was given to us from the 10 Representatives and the Axis might not have been true. We did nothing but leave them hanging with no guarantee from neither side."

"We're on a tightrope ourselves," Switzerland insisted sharply. "We only have now to speak out. The voice of the people. We've been channelled to be unwavering in the face of war, peaceful on the edge of conflict, but who's ever said we need to fulfill all those prongs? If UN isn't going to offer us transparency it's only right that we give it to the student body ourselves. Say it, Romania. I believe in you."

And whether that was true, she would never know, as she clicked live and opened her mouth. It was time. 

★

RUSSIA
How humbled they had all been, forced back to their roots and their enmity at the peak of their knowledge, reduced back to empty fantasies and short-burning lamps of desire. 

UN had sent up a tentative Portal Path, flickering and releasing streaks of light that sliced through the room with a fervor, insisting that it was for the best and offering no comfort as they returned. The blue was cold and distant; at the other side there was no chance of hope nor possibility, but a dimming gloom that quickly shattered the prospect of retention.

Now, listen, he heard himself say as he stepped through the metal and into the swirl: in drastic circumstances take drastic measures. A timeworn motto, and so fitting. He could feel the heat of America's glare burning through his back and riddling holes like bullet wounds. Maybe the chill of the Portal would alleviate the torture. 

They tumbled back into Neo, one after another, sitting in the silence─ and China laid a hand on his shoulder. "Don't take it too harshly," he mouthed. But China wouldn't know, North wouldn't know, no one except America himself would understand the burden of fate. 

A loud scream echoed outside. A large, metal material ricocheted off the glass walls of the Central Tower. 

Reich raised his head, the group flinching as at last (and Russia was grasping onto strands here) a collective.

"What was that." South had jumped naturally into a defensive stance; he phrased the question so much like a statement, and UN swore under his breath. "Knew I should've stayed," he muttered, and then pointed outside. "NATO, go. Quick. Before it ends like last time." 

NATO stood, stricken to his feet, only registering the harrowing situation when UN gave him a harsh, unrelenting slap across his face. "Sorry," he shrilled, and made a beeline for the door. 

He was stopped by a video broadcast. 

Every screen in Neo Orbis had been replaced with one too, Representatives and teachers alike paused in their conflict to huddle around their phone screens and billboard walls to see fiery-haired Romania pursing her lips in a medical room. 

"Representative, historical or modern alike, listen up," she began, the doubt in her voice quickly making way for a brave strength, an intention that swore to declare reality beyond measure.