The England Experiment

Guilty

Arthur breathed hard as Oliver dragged him through the halls. They ran, with Oliver's tight grip around his wrist and their shoes clacking loudly on the tiled floors. He had little choice but to follow Oliver, as he didn't know which way he was supposed to go anyway. 

After what seemed like forever Oliver slowed to a halt, panting and pulling a surgical mask from one of his pockets. 

"This is the place," he said grimly, pulling the mask over his mouth and nose as he twisted the door handle. "I would hold my breath if I were you."

He opened the door and shoved Arthur outside, stepping out and quickly closing the door behind him. Arthur couldn't help but gasp as the hot air hit his skin, but coughed as the horrid, burning smoke that seemed to fill the sky raced into his lungs. Oliver rolled his eyes as he coughed, trying to clap a hand over his mouth and nose. "Told you not to breathe..." he muttered, but Arthur wasn't listening. 

His eyes were watering because of the deadly air and suffocating heat as he squinted out onto the barren earth. The sun looked dull and swollen in the sky, clouded over by heavy, black clouds. The dry dirt crumbled under his feat as he slowly walked forwards, and he couldn't make out a single living thing, there were only a few dead husks of what used to be trees clustered around a large dip in the ground. Arthur swallowed painfully as he realised it used to be a lake. 

He stared out onto the wasteland in horrified silence  as Oliver walked up behind him, the shirt already clinging to his chest with sweat in the heat. 

"Like what you see?" he asked solemnly, and when Arthur didn't reply he just continued. "Hot, right? Well as you know, it's already December by now. This is nearly the coldest it gets each year." He spread his arms out wide, and Arthur could practically see the wide grin behind that mask as Oliver closed his eyes and let the ripping, warm winds tousle his pink hair, and pull at the edges of his clothes. "Quite lovely actually!"  

Arthur wasn't looking at him.

"It's shit." he said bluntly. Oliver chuckled, rolling his eyes. 

"Well duh," he opened his eyes again and let his arms fall to his sides. "But it isn't as if I can do anything about it." Oliver sighed, suddenly looking sad. "We've fallen, you know." Arthur looked at him.

"What?"

"England. It crumbled a while back. Along with the rest of the countries." Arthur could feel his lungs burning but he wasn't able to breathe. Oliver avoided his gaze. "Almost all of us are like your Prussia now." 

Arthur felt like he had been crushed. How? How had this world crumbled so much since he had last left it? He wasn't linked to Oliver specially, but at that moment he could feel his solemn grin harsher than a slap to the face. He looked tortured. 

This was horrible; Arthur wanted to be sick. And it was probably his fault. How dare they live in their own world comfortably whilst this one crumbled at it's roots. And Arthur, well he had no excuse at all. He was the only one who had even known about this place. 

How dare he sit and do nothing. 

Arthur stood up straight, turning towards Oliver with a look of determination. 

"Stand back." Oliver raised a brow, pulling his mask off to grin. 

"What, want me to bugger off already? How rude."

"Suit yourself."

Arthur took a deep breath and raised his hands, golden tendrils curling around his fingers. Oliver's eyes widened, and his heart dropped. 

"Wait-"

Arthur erupted in a blinding light. 

___________________