War's Edge

On the Hunt

Oliver was overjoyed to see that more countries than he had expected decided to show up. Sweden sat on Finland's lap despite him being much bigger—Finland was threatening to shoot him if he didn't move in three seconds. Canada scratched behind his bear's ear while Prussia sipped his coffee. Luciano glared at Flavio while the latter judged him heavily for the old, worn-out clothes he was still wearing. Belarus hummed happily as she continued sewing, and her brother, Russia, begrudgingly helped her out. After all, he had been the one to teach her how to sew.

China was impatient, so he spent his time fantasizing about different world-conquering plots. France was either drunk or high, but he was present nonetheless and 'helping' China by pointing out flaws in his plan ("What if—i-if Japan distracted all zhe soldiers by—m-mass-producing 'entai?"). Speaking of Japan, he sat as far as possible from China, by Italy. He was giggling and rapidly flipping through the pages of his manga. Austria was blasting rock music, and Oliver could hear snippets of it from Austria's headphones. His arm was protectively wrapped around Hungary, who was flattening out the wrinkles in her dress.

Seeing all of this at once, Arthur stuttered behind Oliver trying to take it all in. It was all so unusual, but he reminded himself that his current situation was also strange.

"Thank you for arriving, poppets!" Oliver gushed, practically glowing.

"Who the eyebrow freak?" China bluntly asked.

"I'm so glad you asked! This, my dears, is Arthur Kirkland! I found a magic mirror in my basement, and it's a portal to a dimension opposite of ours! My, isn't that lovely?"

...

France burped in the silence, bedraggled hair flopping on the table.

"I-I... I think I 'ave 'ad," he hiccuped, "too much wine..."

Japan's vile grin instantly dropped. Arthur felt his soulless eyes boring into him with harsh judgement. Russia was doing the same, making Arthur feel quite uneasy.

Canada stood up and approached the doppelgänger. Arthur felt himself shrink under the shadow of the Canadian. Canada's bear growled.

"I don't like him."

Oliver wrapped an arm around Arthur, almost protectively.

"Well, too bad! Besides, I think that's where Allen and Lutz went!"

This immediately caught everyone's attention, except for Austria. Hungary tapped his shoulder until he removed his headphones. North Italy's face went dark red as he stalked towards Arthur and threateningly pointed a knife at him.

"You bastard! Where is-a Lutz?" he demanded.

Oliver snatched the knife with an eery grin. A thin trail of blood trickled from his palm where he tightly gripped the knife.

"The dead can't talk, Luciano~" Oliver murmured in a sing-song voice.

"Look, I haven't seen your America or Germany," Arthur explained, then he paused, "but my America was acting a little strange..."

"How so?" Russia asked. Arthur sensed that it wasn't an option to not tell.

"Well, he phoned me and asked how I felt about him, and he was quiet for once..." Arthur mumbled.

"Well, what did you say, poppet? Perhaps he's already met Allen?" Oliver pushed, licking up some of the blood from his palm.

"No, that can't be. I know that wanker, and he'd be bragging. The boy can't keep a secret," Arthur instantly denied, then vaguely added, "and I-I just told him we were on good terms."