Chrome Shelled Hetalia

Chapter 7: Sangue

Chapter 7: Sangue

The next morning dawned on the sleeping nations with a melancholy Italy still watching over them. He looked tired and stressed, as he'd not only gotten no sleep the night before, but had spent most of that time agonizing over which memories were coming up. He knew that particular memory wouldn't be far off. Perhaps they'd even see it today. We probably will... he thought to himself, letting his shoulders sag in depression.

His head suddenly whipped up as his instinct screamed at him that something was amiss. What could it be? He stilled, straining his eyes against the grey expanse of nothing that made up the Aurora. He thanked his gut silently for telling him to keep watch from the roof of the house.

There! He heard it this time. The unmistakable cry of a Contaminoid. "Shit!" He cursed, jumping to his feet. "Everybody up!" He barked through the open windows, startling the nations out of their slumber.

"Italy?" France asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He'd appreciate a few more hours of sleep. "What's wrong? It's still early."

"Up!" He demanded again, scaring the nations with his no-nonsense tone.

"Dude? What's wrong?" America shook himself awake and stood up, alert and surveying his surroundings, as the other nations joined them outside. He squinted at a steadily growing black dot in the sky heading towards them.

Italy stepped forward. "Stay behind me. And for the love of whatever you hold dear. Please don't try to help." He ordered, pulling out his Dite. "Restoration. 0-2!" His dormant Dite suddenly transformed into the twin short swords they'd seen in the memory yesterday.

"O-oi! Veneziano? What's the matter?" Romano asked, anxious. If his brother was activating his Dite...

"We're about to have company. Like I said earlier—stay back. I can't guarantee your safety or survival unless you stay out of my way." He sent a glare in the direction of the Nations. Maybe this will make everything more... tangible for them?

Then, with very little warning, Italy sped off to meet the enormous Contaminoid. Now, seeing it in person and up close—somehow very different from the memories they'd been watching thus far—everything started to feel so much more real to the nations. They watched, too scared by the sudden appearance of the grotesque monster for even Romano to try to keep his brother from running towards it. Though every one of them was equally terrified for themselves and Italy.

Italy, however, had no such reservations. "Oh, it's you." He smirked, feeling the familiar trill of excitement run through him. Oh, how I missed this. He recognized this particular Contaminoid as one who'd escaped him in Glendan once. "Let's finish this, shall we, Edgar?" He let out a low chuckle as he nimbly and elegantly dodged a very quick strike, lashing out with his own blades to cut off a limb. He flared his Kei as he did so, causing ice to spread across the injury, preventing the creature from regenerating as quickly.

He then jumped high, slicing off wings on both sides, jumping off just as the beast hit the ground, causing a massive shockwave that made the observing nations stumble badly. He then cut it down the middle, trying to find its heart before it could regenerate.

The nations, on the other hand, watched on in awe. Italy was moving with such speed that even those more attuned to following quick movements could make out no more than a blur.

"When did Itary-kun get so fast?" Japan wondered aloud.

"Maybe he was this fast in the memories, but because they were his memories, we never noticed?" America suggested, still trying to digest that the freaky overgrown cockroach in front of him was real.