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If I were to die, what would it be like?
What they’d told Prussia was one thing, but he hadn’t personally seen the ‘consciousness’ that was the Holy Roman Empire die. It was said that after his demise, the fallen Holy Rome had become incredibly weak, to the point that he could barely get out of bed. But what had really extinguished his spirit? Had he always been that fragile, or had his dissolution driven him to sickness—?
I don’t understand…!
During wartime, Prussia had always thought he’d never live to see another day. Somehow, he’d existed thus far, an unthinkably long time for someone like him.
He ruminated over the matter of his own life. The first time had been on a war-torn battlefield, and the second time was when the Wall fell. Both times he’d suspected he had not long to live yet, and both times he was proven plainly wrong.
It had to be because he was so stubborn! Yes, that was right! He had too much pride in himself, and the heavens didn't exactly welcome such arrogance. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to rely on this self-confidence to keep himself alive forever.
He wondered if he would still be able to see others even after his death. If he could, he wouldn’t want to watch Italy and the rest cry (they would definitely cry for him, definitely.)
Who else would grieve his death? What about Hungary, Austria, France, Spain, that lot? They’d mourn him, he was sure; those relationships were all built from nights of drinking til late. His thoughts wandered to England, if he would cry. But it’d be fine if that happened, because America would be there to comfort him. That guy could actually be reliable every now and then.
He drew a blank when it came to Japan; what a shame, he had utterly no idea what kind of face Japan would have! There was no difference between Japan and Russia’s expressions, as neither ever betrayed any emotion, though Russia’s was typically scarier.
As for West… he’d cry, wouldn’t he? Though that’d mean he isn’t mature enough, which means it isn’t time for me to disappear yet. Then I’d better become a little more confident, so the heavens will stay far away from me. Right, I’ll do that.
When he entered paradise, who would he meet? His old man Frederick, Holy Roman Empire and Minister Von Bismarck, maybe. He hadn’t seen them in a while.
Are those the only people I know? Aren’t there a few more? Like the young master’s lady boss— what was her name again— Maria Theresa? But she probably wouldn’t treat me kindly; I was her former enemy, after all.
Who else?
The Hochmeister! It’d been so long, Prussia suspected he’d begun to forget how the Grand Master looked. He was a little sorry for that.
And there was the Knights Templar. That guy had clearly said before that he’d come back to visit if he died, but Prussia hadn’t seen him even once.
No, that isn’t right; Knights Templar was burned to death for heresy and obviously isn’t going to heaven. What a pity, he was so suited for heaven too. Don’t you think so, Gilbird? Wait, where have you gone?
Oh, that’s an awesome-looking branch. Take me with you next time!
…
When the sun comes up, I’ll head to Italy’s place. I haven’t seen Knights Hospitaller for a while, so I should go check up on him.