"NO ALFRED!" England shouted as he watched that German defeat the finest English plane. Again.
Running up he wrenthed open the cockpit and pulled America out of the rising flames. He was just a few feet away when the petrol pit caught fire and it all exploded.
"I was defeated."
"We have to take away his ability to fly. Like I said before Germany owns the sky." Russia reasoned when they got back
"We need to have a land battle, if he gets to the plane we might as well surrender."
"I'm the best pilot in the world, so if he can defeat me we stand no chance in the air."
"America are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, I wasn't hurt badly I should still be able to join the battle."
"His plane was badly injured so we need to strike now before he can get it repaired."
"Tomorrow we meet him and kill Italy."
-00-
"Oh Mio Dio! Luddy are you okay?!" Italy came running up and threw himself at Germany as he emerged from the plane
"I'm fine. Just a bit sore." He smiled down at the Italian at least he was safe
"That was some pretty awesome piloting bruder." Germany looked up to see his older brother Prussia coming up looking a bit worried
"It was like the famouse air battle between the Dracken and St.George. You were almost as good as that pilot."
Germany sighed he really wanted people to know that the pilot had been him. And now there was no reason to lie about it.
"Bruder I was the pilot of the Dracken. That's the Dracken right there."
"Wait, WHAT!? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING GOING INTO SUCH A DANGEROUSE BATTLE!" Prussia screamed at him
"That was why I didn't tell you." Germany sighed
"Luddy your arm..." Italy whispered pulling away
Once again because of the dire situation Germany had forgotten about his earlier wound suddenly he felt lightheaded. He had been losing blood the whole time and it was just getting to him now.
And then everything was black.
