Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You stared at the void.

The void that was once your home, your shelter, your life, neither stared back, nor did it allow a single tear or soul to answer to your wordless gaze, either.

After all, nothing had come out of it once it got consumed.

What was once continents became mere islets, floating within this empty expanse. You barely recognized what were fake buildings and cities built upon these landmasses, and you swore you saw the Statue of Liberty drifted right past you—even if its only recognizable feature was only her head.

What were significant pieces of culture (especially your own), cultures of old and new, cultures people value and care for were forevermore lost, no matter its worth, and it was scattered, snatched, HARMED to no return.

And what was once a world of life, to your demise...no longer held any breath. 

You anticipated this inevitability, and had warned your fellow nations. And now...

You immediately realized you had gone through a world-ending catastrophe, and you were witnessing the aftermath of its merciless...destruction.

You clung onto your hat as a cosmic sandstorm approached your location—slowly, by slowly, mile by mile. You, however, decided to ignore it, looking towards Poland instead. Within this catastrophe, he and other nations assisted with evacuation, with no nation left behind. He had just finished shoving South Sudan into the portal of reds, blues, and yellows (that part was formerly white...), throwing them directly into it. Despite his magic being long gone due to the breakdown of reality, he was efficient and proved he was no useless Polish clay.

Even with a part of him gone for the time being.

And yet, despite his oddly optimistic outlook in life, and the future that is yet to come, you cannot help but remember and wince at the screams that he had to go through to remove...it...

But you would rather not address that issue until you can handle it healthily—preferrably once you are safe.

As you contemplate these things about the choices that brought you up to this point (so are your own mishaps), you noticed Poland bounce onto a direction—towards your own, specifically. His milky white eyes are weary and drooping, but his dash of confidence you helped him regain stood firm within it. His eyes mellowed as he raised down his cap, noticing you looking at him instead of the void similar to what you were doing a while ago, and he was the first one to break this tension between you two.

"...co teraz, Phil?" (What now, Phil?)

Your sun hat blocking the dust of the faraway sandstorm from yourself, you focused on the real matters and sighed as you addressed him—and his question. "Ito na", you murmured. "This is it, in finality: our world be gone and a new uncharted world to see. I worry about what will happen next, but we must go on for everyone."

"...I hope." You avoided saying that out loud.

Poland tried to clear his non-existent throat and spoke up. "I mean, everyone else had gone to the portal, the one you made with, well, the organizations, and we're the only ones left to enter." Your eyes relaxed as you looked out at the vortex—nothing else to be heard or seen from the other side, yet anything can possibly await you all there.

You decided to spit out the truth about your feelings to him, and started talking. "I still fear what will come for us, Poland. All of us. What if after all these challenges, after all these victories...my plan was null all along? What if after all of this, it was all futile? What if I failed my bargains and accidently set us for fates worse than death? What if these are all lies, all of us are lies, and our deaths and lives wouldn't matter anymore because there are already counterparts to us within Earth—human counterparts, not balls like us, and our existence is as void as this world?

"What if—"

Poland's gaze hardened, and you felt him grab you before you defaulted to instinctual overthinking; and if you were both humans from this new world, said grabbing would be by the shoulder. "You've done so much for us, Phil!" He exclaimed with tact and tense words. "Without you beating reason back into our messy brains, more nations will still be in conflict, and more will be forever lost down there in this hellhole that was formerly our home! Hell, Russia and America, if you didn't manage to convince both of them to stop, would have tried brute force tactics and worse cases than that. And there's the aspect of them killing us faster."

He continued ranting. "And who cares about whether or not are we worthless, just because there are already human versions of what we are—human Representations?! Mam gdzieś to egzystencjalne pytanie, dopóki nie osiądziemy pokojowo gdziekolwiek. Wtedy zaczniemy się martwić o nasz los w przyszłości! (I couldn't give a shit about that existential question until we get to settle peacefully within anywhere. Then we worry about our fates for the future!)

"We're between the present and the unclear future, Philippines," he supplied. "We can't afford to lose our own lands and important histories, but we still have our lives. And even then, we lost a lot, and we don't know what we will do to preserve what we have left..."

Poland glanced at you and released you from contact, taking a deep breath. "Yet, all of this are good enough, despite the loss. You've managed to do the impossible, Phil. And I don't think any existential question or truth will make that void like our world now.

"Most of all..." He squinted his eyes at you with some sense of pride. "jesteś wystarczający (you are enough).

"...you really are."

He deflated after his speech, his face relaxing at the same time yours did, and he chuckled when he finally saw that happen. "Now," he declared boldly. "We will either go into that goddamn portal and I'll try—and surely fail—to cook you some of those...puto you had been craving for so long, or we stare into the end of the world until it engulfs us." 

You rolled your eyes and spoke sarcastically, "Oh no, I had to choose between second-hand embarrassment or death. What should I do." You chuckled after your short bit, and made contact with him in a form of assurance. "Put fish within those puto you will steam...and you are on THIN ICE, alright?" You said with a very enthusiastic expression.

"..."

"..."

"Alright, I'll humor you," Poland replied hesitantly, and you swore you heard him whisper "what the fuck does she have against fish" when your surroundings suddenly shook with vibrating soundwaves. The sandstorm somehow got closer than what either of you two expected, and—

...

OH DEAREST LIGHT THAT WAS DEATHLY CLOSE

"We have to go, now," you ordered as you two ran into the portal, its colors slowly flickering and its size shrinking down. 'Come on!' The remaining land of grass and stone on this last large remains of a landmass are slowly being stripped away by the winds, crumbling from the intensity of the sandstorm as it got sucked in. Your hat almost flew away from you, but Poland grabbed it in time as he grabbed his own cap.

And as you placed it back on...for the last time, you look behind. 

...

There were no more feasts and celebrations. 

There were no more conflicts to solve or worse. 

There was no more chattering and laughter, and sadness and slaughters. 

There are only memories to keep.

"Handa ka na ba?" (Are you ready?) You asked Poland beside you—someone you did not expect to be a close ally to your goals, someone you did not expect to be with at the end of this world, and someone you did not expect alone because you intended all of these as a secret, solo mission.

But, of course, things went south wonderfully.

"Of course, Phil." You would have smacked Poland for his poor attempt at flirting, but...you'd rather not. You'd rather cherish it at this time.

For the last time.

"We have this dance?" You requested, ignoring the close dust particles flicking your hat and tuffs of hair.

"For the last time?" Poland asked rhetorically.

"Then let's make it worthwhile." 

And you fell into the portal together, no longer looking back at the void, no longer looking back at your past—for there are simply colors and static to see.

You two keep on falling, and falling, and falling.

...

...

...

Your eyes no longer see the messy spiral of colors that felt muddled and dulled. Instead, all

you

see

is 

LIGHT.

You felt like you were falling forever. 

You glanced at Phil as you two fell into this endless miasma of colors, and you can't help but rather focus on her than everything else. Not just because you were looking out for her (I mean, you were simply friends!), but because these colors are nauseous as hell! 

You questioned yourself why the hell are you complaining about the mechanics of portals and interdimensional travel, especially as you are neither a physicist or adept with these types of topics. And even then, you decided that metaphysics is a stupid thing to debate about! Or maybe the colors are literally disgusting to look at, like a kindergartener's attempts at mixing Play-Doh. 

But as you complained to yourself, you didn't noticed that you were falling directly into cold, hard ground. And you paid the price by landing painfully, even with your own biological advantages. No transitions or anything, no given cues at all...

Just straight up figurally eating concrete.

You could have said "literally" if you got a mouth...but you literally landed upon concrete.

You groaned to yourself as your eyes and senses were disoriented by the abrupt change of colors, and you shook yourself to get rid of a coming headache. As your eyes adjusted to the changed surroundings, you saw your cap falling from the sky. You then successfully caught it by leaping, putting it back on your head and tucking in your tuffs of hair. Giving a breath of relief, you noticed your sight wasn't blurry anymore, and your surroundings coming into shapes, and...oh.

When the Organizations explained that the human world is miles larger than the universe they had known of, you thought they—and Philippines, no offense to her (since you feigned ignorance, anyways)—were exaggerating. Apparently, that was a big, fucking lie you gave to yourself. Actually, fuck that, you should had assumed instead that they had underestimated the sheer size change of everyday objects in comparison to yourself.

Garbage chutes became the size of what would be a small house for your...world, and even the trash littered around the place towered over your form—even a literal soda can. Not to mention, the actual walls and windows of these buildings scaled entirely taller than what could anyclay possibly be, let alone be any skyscraper you knew of. And by your own guesses, these must be mere apartments instead. The afternoon light—possibly four or five in the afternoon, your mind supplied—casting shadows on everything doesn't help with the atmosphere, either.

You tried observing more by looking at the roads and sidewalks, only to be hit by a collection of feathers upon your vision.

...a familiar set of white, fluffy feathers.

"...what the..." You murmured, eyes wide at the plummage behind your back. But...how? How did these even get here?

Most of all, how did it grew back?

(...Even after what you did to yourself?

You decided to stretch your wings for the first time in what felt like forever, and ending up being shocked to find them functioning like how they were meant to do...so. For the brief moment of losing a part of yourself during those times and not knowing if you will regain it, you have completely lost that connection to these wings. And now...

They're back! And you cannot believe it!

You still feared it would be torn off again.

"Eurgh..." You turned around quickly to see Philippines behind you, stuck within a small box and her sunhat over her eyes. Your internal thoughts interrupted, you head over to her and took the hat off her face. Her yellow-and-white eyes were squinted tightly, and her eyes narrowed further as she tried to grab her hat back. You decided to humor her by pulling back, not even letting the ribbon on it be reached. She retaliated by pulling herself out of the box, only to end up slumping into the ground—and her halo flickered before disappearing.

"Goodness, Poland, give it back..." She murmured groggily, and this time, you gave her hat back for real. She sighed as her eyes blinked a few times and she placed her hat on. She glanced at her surroundings again and then at you.

"...Maraming salamat (thank you)." Her words are still hesitant, due to the small stunt you pulled. But, thankfully, she saw it being for good faith.

"Proszę bardzo (You're welcome)!" You exclaimed cheerfully, and then that begged you to ask her something.

"So...we're finally out," you started.

Phil's eyes got a...look on it, before it softened as she addressed you. "...yes, Poland."

"And we're no longer in our world."

"Unfortunately, but also fortunately for everyone involved, Poland." Her eyes brightened for a moment, as if she had forgotten what was bothering her.

"So..." You whistled, somehow, as you paced slowly. "Do you know where we are? This place felt like something that would belong to a modern city, but I still haven't checked to see which one of our fellow nation's this place belonged to...or at least some version of them..."

You stopped your rambling when you saw Phil's eyes morph from relaxation to intense dread, as if she had just recalled something terrible. 'Oh no', you thought—she's shaking, and that's not good. Neither was her expression, either. Her eyes quickly darted around the place with frantic anxiety, and she quickly approached you.

"Let me tell you something, Poland," she spoke in hushed whispers and breaths. "You are aware of my...abilities' origin, correct?"

You immediately nodded, ignoring how she was still shaking. "Well, my mind was briefly taken to its realm," she continued, "and it explained with the same panic as I have now that, apparently, the coordinates I had in mind...are entirely wrong."

"...coordinates?"

"Or just an approximation of where should we land—" 

Philippines' eyes glared at a random alleyway, and you couldn't help but follow her gaze. Amongst the shadows the afternoon light was casting, there were figures slowly approaching your location—figures with strange things on their heads and what appeared to be dangerous weapons.

"I...I will explain later, Poland." She immediately said, her shaking becoming less intense but nervousness was still in her form. She lowered her sunhat and declared, "For now, the best option for us is to run."

Unfortunately, as soon as she said the word "run", an explosion rang and hit right above where the two of you are. You immediately grabbed Philippines and dragged her away before rubble from the broken wall and exploded garbage crushed her underneath. Philippines tried to keep her cool as you pulled her behind a garbage bin, but her eyes are still staring at the possibly hostile humanoids coming at your way.

Oh god...you two might be doomed, and somehow this early on. You still had no idea what was she talking about, but you are sure that something was wrong—even if this is indeed Earth and somehow...horned beings exist at the same time as humans.

But once these showed themselves...you immediately jumped boat into the conclusion that you are fucked.

"So, where the hell was that fucker who stole our Bux?!" One of them...surely not humans...yelled out. He (?) then barked at his group of individuals with...similarly-colored horns, sets of what looked like explosives or flammable objects on their hands. Oh God, one of them has a knife. "Find that guy before we head off to Playground for the night, or Swords have mercy on our earnings for the day!"

"Aye, aye, Grenade!" The rest of the group scattered, some taking completely different routes than the other. You and Phil shivered as you two hid, hearing the footsteps getting louder and softer at the same time. You thought you are safe when you heard someone kick the garbage bin behind you, and you made the mistake to turn around. 

'Grenade' (who calls themselves a name after a weapon?!) scoffed and then stopped in confusion, the cap-wearing being glancing at your vulnerable form. He slouched down, sharp teeth baring like a frown and his trident-like horns not helping with his menacing silhouette.

"...what the fuck are you?!"

And then you felt yourself lose all rationality as you LUNGED at him, trying not to make him attack any of you two.

Chapter Text

Within the depths of this typically busy city, everyone was starting to settle down and close their shops for the night. One of such beings was closing shop at the same time, the sunset illuminating the rooftops of his store. Currently, he was hiding the equipment for the food preparation within the kitchen, completely alone and metal colliding with each other in an unheard beat. 

Sure, he would had asked his very employees to assist him, but he was aware of their independence, and thus he let them retire for every night, and him cleaning up after their mess instead. Hence why he was so isolated and alone within this place—not that he cares about such things, though. 

He'd rather do this alone...and he has other reasons for doing so. 

She sat down on an empty seat within her Oriental-themed restaurant, her painted claws tapping to her hums of a traditional folk song. Her claws were craving to grab onto any equipment, and she was feeling impatient and was desiring to train instead of this waiting.

But, alas, it shall be postponed indefinitely for the time being. 

Instead, her musings went deep inside the depths of her own being, her history...

...and eventually settling into this place once it was safe.

It was enough years already for her restaurant to gain traction from tourists and locals alike—either to satiate their sense nostalgia, or merely their curiosity. And yet, she felt like this happened all in an instant. Blame her own time dilation ingrained within her very being and soul, but she couldn't help but point out for old times' sake.

His thoughts wandered into some...people he knew of. A lot of them—her so-called friends—got jobs and other actions that might become obsolete like his own business in the future. Either it was due to dead companions, said activities becoming irrelevant, or them getting bored and moving onto other jobs and hobbies instead.  And, Swords forbid (even if he never worshipped any of the Deities), how can Darkheart of all people stick to fishing?! 

But...back to the "friends" he knew of. He was aware, technologically behind he was, that that robotic-looking guy's job will still stick around for a few decades, depending on how much his nation will further innovate itself. On the other hand, his own ally's gang...would bring them grief once the inevitable happened. 

Ah, such is life. Better to enjoy things while he still can-

"THIEVES' DEN, YOU BITCH!" The aformentioned being (?) barely flinched as he saw the aformentioned ally grumble at the front door. Their cap was dishevelled—which should be impossible given their own horn shape—and there are a few quickly-healing scratches on their exposed body parts. Their eyes, most of all, was blazing with anger, and Thieves' Den had no choice but to calm his fellow...faction down.

"Mediate upon your rage, Playground," she murmured towards them. "Cease your profane language, and let your thoughts collect. What made you this way, oh dear friend?"

Playground spat out at the word "friend", but didn't commented otherwise. Their fists slowly loosened, no longer shaking as well, and their eyes slowly relaxed. 

Cue them dropping the ordinary-looking box stuck between their right arm, tossing it towards Thieves' Den, and the faction summoning her "main" gear to catch it. Despite not knowing of the package's center of gravity, and her currently wielded gear (a staff from a certain Phighter) being incompatible for balancing...she had still done so easily.

"Your balancing skills always scared the fuck outta me, Den," Playground admitted, arms crossed together. "But, seriously, why the hell would you make me of all fac-Inphernals fetch this thing at our borders? Now my ass was almost bitten by wild newspawns and a random rival gang!"

"You are aware of my more constricted schedule," Thieves' Den explained, "...aren't you?"

Playground scoffed. "Seriously, I had no fucking clue why do you run a business in the first place. Sure, sure, this is hypocritical for me as someone who has a gang of my own, but your dedication to your own craft is concerningly intense. How the hell do you even handle all of these?"

"To be honest with you–" Thieves' Den stopped balancing the package—despite its ordinary box cover, it looked like it was large enough to keep one of Playground's horns within it. "–I simply pretend to be one amongst my people. Maybe you should to instead of pretending to be a Sword's estranged child."

"Windforce would literally be my, eugh, mother!" Playground complained. "Seriously, she was even at fault for why I struggle in the first place, and why my place's stuck in the FUCKING sky—"

Suddenly, a large explosion occured outside the closed restaurant. Some Inphernals are screaming while running to the right, and some was waving around their gears frantically.

"What the fuck was that—"

"How can that thing summon a pillar of light like Illumina—"

"Icedagger dammit, why can it talk—"

"MY EYES!"

Thieves' Den stood up, Vinestaff still summoned on his hands and eyes barely flinching, and Playground narrowed their eyes. "Oh hell no, Den, you're not gonna get mauled by some random guy with an overpowered gear—"

"Trust me." Thieves' Den's usually half-shut eyes opened fully at Playground's direction. "I can handle this conflict by myself. Guard my place, and don't let anyone in."

Thieves' Den then vanished like a ninja, leaving no trace other than the faint sounds of footsteps. Playground groaned, fixing their hat, and narrowed their gaze at where their companion used to be.

"Bitch, why the fuck of all people had Lost Temple fell for you, if you're this fucking clueless!?"

Chapter Text

'Poland...!'

You felt your self internally panicked as you saw the European in question immediately jump into the air, wings illuminated by the sunset spread wide and eyes filled with instinctual anger. You, however, was unable to prevent his irrational decision, as your own mind was muddled with chaos, trying to find a way to save him from being smashed into pulp by these beings—Inphernals. And at the same time, you were trying yo rationalize what you were just told by...it. 

Trying to focus on pressing matters,you observed Grenade (that's his name by how the other gangs called him as, isn't it?) slightly flinch as Poland fell onto his chest. The latter's wings flicked into the face of the former, making him back off enough for you to see his entire face frowning but also shocked. Poland continued gripping onto the other's shirt collar, while the few gang members who stayed with Grenade stared in pure confusion on their faces.

Unfortunately, you saw him (despite his grip) being immediately taken off, a pair of grey hands grabbing onto his top area and easily pulling him out of Grenade's chest. Your heart skipped a beat, and you attempted to resist running away. But with milky white eyes meeting another pair with dark green irises (and an expression of anger)—meaning Poland still had that figural fire withon him wanting to move around and maul at Grenade—you cannot leave him here.

Not anymore.

And you need to act fast. 

Grenade was investigating Poland's form, turning the latter around like he was some poor child's toy. You hopped on an untoppled garbage bin, and tried calling out towards the two. "Do not hurt him, please!" You pleaded towards the Inphernal in question, sun hat pulled down and your eyes staring right at him. Fortunately for you (or not), he immediately turned around, surprised by your presence but not by your appearance, and you flinched as he changed his grabbing position on Poland to include his own wings as well.

Speaking of Poland, he barely managed to rotate himself, despite his wings being squished and possibly being painful beneath there, and his eyes widened in horror at your presence. "Phil...I can handle this!" He exclaimed, despite his voice shaking with what is exactly the emotion of "I am so fucked". 

The world suddenly came to a standstill, and no more dialogue was exchanged between everyone of you. Grenade stared at you, and you got his full attention now. Unfortunately, some of said gang members of his are also focused on you—even if one of them got a shotgun of all thongs pointed at Poland. Other two with similar ranged weapons on their backs (by the looks of it, though, it didn't looked like it belonged to them, since the shotgun guy matches with his gear...) took it off and pointed it at you in turn. Someone summoned an unlit dynamite, arm ready to throw it at you. 

You were still considering your thoughts, as you think of what your next course of action would be. Inphernals...factions...gears...a lot of factors to analyze, and too little time before you indirectly cause collateral damage (do Inphernals even have hazard pay???). By the looks of it, though, you can no longer reason with them to leave you alone—and even if they didn't looked like they were those scientists from that one Russia-like (or rather the USSR?) faction, you still think they were inherently hostile. 

Whether it was by their own fears or something else you cannot analyze, you cannot talk it out anymore. Well, one of them is literally ready to throw an explosive to yur direction, so it was a rational thought on your side.

The air started running cold as the wind swept your hair strands. Some of them are getting impatient, and Poland was being squeezed harder. Despite the actual ime you were taking, it felt like forever. But...for a moment the bow on your hat caught the last rays of sunlight, and a moment your eyes glazed upon it, you realized something. You still feel...connected. 

Maybe you can still do this.

'Are you sure, though?' You asked yourself.

'Yes,' replied you. 

'Showing your cards this early?' 

You stared at Poland, and at the other hostiles. '...as long as I can save Poland from being pronounced dead.' You took a deep breath. "I cannot risk testing our revival mechanics within this place.'

'...well then.'

'They're all yours, me.'

You snapped your eyes at Grenade before you placed your sun hat back on. You 'felt' the singular ray of sunshine near your position, almost blocked out by the buildings. "What the fuck are you gonna d—"

And you immediately pulled out a small dagger from the ray, pointing it at him. It was weak, but it will suffice until you can use...that.

Grenade incidentally dropped Poland, and you immediately sprinted to catch his fall, and his cap at the same time. You gestured at Poland to sprint towards the other Inphernals, and before he could retaliate, you grabbed him and bolted.

Some of them started shooting you, but unfortunately guns are not advisable against a ball, let alone you and him. The dynamite Inphernal threw their stick at you, only for you to manage to parry the stick back with the dagger. And at the same time it broke unceremoniously, the dynamite exploded—leaving you and Poland to be able to get away from them. 

"RUN." You ordered, and Poland complied. You two started getting away when you heard shouts of 'get them!', and you had to shift corners when some of the gang members arrived and tried tackling you. Poland glanced at them toppling over each other for a brief moment, before flying again and grabbing you into the air. 

You two managed to do this airial dance of dodges and parries, with you pulling weak daggers from sunshine and artificial light just turning on alike—it seems that they are solar-powered...noted. However, you two reached a dead end: specifically, an area barricaded and filled with trash. 

Grenade and his lackies managed to catch onto you, and Poland was about to fly off when he summoned his gear—as expected, a blue grenade—and threw it above you two. The grenade didn't exploded that much into the air, but you were sure that it could still explode Poland if he didn't hesitated.

"...what now?!" He whisper-shouted with panic as the gang slowly got closer, and you looked at him with determined eyes.

You took a deep breath and turned towards his direction. "Trust me when I say this Poland," you spoke towards him. "When I yell a certain word, do not look at me...at all costs."

Poland was confused until his eyes widened in shock...and was also reflecting something yellow. A yellowish halo resembling your iconic, eight-rayed sun symbol appeared on your head, looking broken but still not torn apart. You threw your hat at him, and you stared at Grenade with blazing, yellow eyes.

"I do not know if you will be our ally or enemy," you explained calmly. "But let me be clear: hamakin mo ang aking mga kaibigan, ang aking sariking lahi, at ikaw ay mamamatay—kalaban man o hindi. Kung hindi tayo natapos sa sitwasyong ito, baka hindi kayo mamamalasin." 

Grenade and some lackeys decided yo ignore your monologue and charge at you, and you saw Poland already huddled in a corner, covering his eyes, before you closed your own. You felt yourself float before you declared, "At nang makita ng Diyos ang mundo...sinabi niya, BIYAYAAN KA NG LIWANAG!" 

And you felt everything...become...BRIGHT.

When you oppened your eyes after your possible light show, you noticed some blood splatters on the ground, at least a few teeth, bullets, and chipped bits of horns down, and several, fleeing Inphernals. Poland quickly tossed you back your sun hat, but you quickly felt weakness within your body as you dropped beside him. Your eyes started dropping, your surroundings becoming muddier, and you barely managed to stay up for a minute or two before Poland had to stay by your side. 

And the last thing you saw was a pair of reddish slippers, what appeared to be someone kneeling, and the sounds of assurance while an Oriental scent lingered in the air.

A certain Deity tossed and turned within his sleep, barely able to lose consciousness—even the barest form of sleep due to his body. Instead, he opened his eyes and got out of his bed, walking across his ornate room. Observing how it was almost fully nighttime, he decided to observe the outside world that he can see.

...only for a large pillar of light—a light that looked similar to one of his own attacks, but was off in every shape, color, form, and even power—to appear from one of the several areas of Crossroads, and it flickering before disappearing as soon as it had appeared.

...

For a Sword with reign over mind, Illumina swore to non-existent higher beings that he was surely awake when he witnessed it.

Chapter Text

Philippines is a being who is used to both the dark and the light, attracted both by mystery and information. It was the very information she know of which leads to the salvation of her fellow nations, and it is (and will be) also the very thing that burdens her for as long as she lives. 

Knowledge gives power, and power—as a certain person from worlds so many had declared—demands responsibility upon its owner. Philippines' greatest power does not lie upon her hospitality and her literal sun-based abilities, but within the information she carries. Her ability to keep herself calm and get herself acting "normal" despite the burden on her metaphorical shoulders was one to be envious of, and her endurance amidst these epistemological dilemma was one you cannot imagine a nation like her could carry.

This is why you chose her, after all. Not for some prophecy, but because you...can.

Unfortunately, as much as you do not desire harming her in a way that both harms your motives and her safety in turn...you have to burden her more in order to make up.

With what?

This unexpected mistake. 

Philippines floated within the bright void you considered your own home, or whatsoever humanity considers as such. Her eyes stared at you with, as wide as it was when she first glanced at your presence. You nervously twindled with your otherworldly tendrils, seeing her headwear and hairstrands (you will never question why does her specific version of her kind have hair. After all, scrutiny prevents genuine and wholehearted answers) float away from her, revealing the rest of herself to you—not that you had to let her be unobstructed.

Your closed eyes were indecipherable to her—she was still a mere mortal, after all. And yet, she could notice the distress within your barely shown form when she asked...

"Dearest Light? Do you bring grave news for me?"

You simply looked back, and let one of your eyes open. Yellow looked at yellow, and you let the truth be spoken of.

After all, you are the Patron of Information. It would be a disgrace for you to keep secrets arbitrarily, let alone truths such as this...

...

(The portal...lead to the wrong world.) You may had been an eldritch horror for mortals beyond human emotion, but you still winced at Philippines' shocked expression. (Something went wrong, mortal,) you explained, trying to keep your calm. (Your next destination is a world like the human realm I promised you. However, there was a spatial disruption.)

Philippines' eyes morphed into worry. "...disruption? Something tampered with the route?!"

(I had not caught any culprit—being or phenomenon, to my dismay.) Your shining light briefly faded. (I apologize for this mistake. For this voided promise.)

(I should had anticipated when the portal could go wrong.)

...

Philippines remained silent for a long time—too long for her, but still a mere instant for you. And then, your mortal charge spoke.

"It's...alright!" Her cheer was as faux as the world she used to be in, and yet you can feel her wanting to express other emotions; perhaps your status being higher than hers made her hesitate. "As long as you can help me with my mission for safety...you will guide me, right?"

You nodded, and then you got an idea. One of your hands was playing with something for some time now, and it held an orb worth libraries of information. You teleported it in front of Philippines, and you can't help but be amused by her reaction. (This is how I store all information I am aware of,) you explained briefly. (Within this specific orb is the knowledge which will let you have full awareness of the full history and culture of this unknown world—well, unknown for you. However, you may only take minimal...)

(...so make it count.)

And Philippines started asking in lightning rounds, once she realized you were serious. She asked about the new world [(The Inpherno), you replied. (A place full of beings called Inphernals—similar to humans but not in physiology and culture.)]. And then she asked about these Inphernals [(They are prone to and ingrained with violence, and they own 'gears' that act as an extension of themself...and their own self at the same time.)] She asked about its nations, its present day, about whether or not are her fellow nations alright (you immediately opened up how the disruption scattered them across the Inpherno. Her expression was haunting, even for you)...and everything broad and brief.

But not about one thing.

...

...good. That was something she should find enjoyable to explore. 

(Is that all?) You asked. Philippines merely nodded, sunhat now back into her head. (Very well, then, I shall wake you up for the time being...)

(...Farewell, Philippines, the Pearl of the Orient Seas. Knowledge is power, but so are consequences. Do be careful, and be careful indeed.)

Philippines greeted back by tipping her hat, before her body faded into yellow light. 

...

...

The void turned inky black, stars dotting it. You murmured to yourself as you went on your endless days.

And...you.

Get back in there.

You were supposed to be following her.

Go...and keep watch.

You ended up snapping out of your reminiscing as Poland's feathers tapped into your eyes. You groaned as you were about to tackle him, only to realize a few things about your situation.

1: You remembered what...just happened. Dear Light, that was the last time you will ever recklessly abuse that power.

2: Poland is here, he's safe...and where is his hat?

3: ...where are you both?

You found yourself within a restaurant—it looked East Asian, mostly leaning into Japanese decorations, although it had some modernistic elements such as its countertops and menu. The place was illuminated with lantern-shaped lights on the ceiling, and if it was not for this place being way bigger than you are, then you would had swore Japan took you out for a tour again. At the same time, some chairs are placed upwards on the tabletops, besides the ones where you are (aka, you and Poland are on top of another table). 

Poland sheepishly glanced at you, hair looking ruffled. "Don't worry, Phil!" He exclaimed. "We're safe...I think. And I managed to use our diplomacy skills to use! Talk about those boring meetings to be worthwhile!"

You squinted, eyes still observing your surroundings. "How did you even broke into this place?"

Poland looked at you in confusion. "'Broke'? You might still be asleep, Philippines. I didn't broke in...we were taken in."

"By who?"

Cue an Inphernal with striking, reddish horns and a Japanese-like chef's outfit walking from the kitchen area. His (or her?) face was illuminated under the light, and he seemed to be light grey-skinned, with two slash-like, white marks going through his narrow, red eyes. His horns are curved forwards and its other half leading to the tip was raised to the heavens, looking like slight razor blades, although his right horn was seemingly cut off halfway through—and by the looks of it, it looked unnatural, almost as if it was a permanent injury.

Despite his calm face and aura, though, you were still on standby. Poland saw your expression and briefly panicked before getting right beside your position. "She's nice!" He spoke out loud (and, wait, that's a woman? Oh, right...you don't think Inphernals have hair). "And she had assisted us from being killed by bystanders."

You blinked at the stranger, and the stranger simply smiled with his (her?) mouth. "Do not worry...Philippines, was it?" He spoke, and...oh, the voice wasn't helping with the slight confusion you have. "I will not harm you two for what you are—in fact, why would I require myself to inflict injury?"

He held out a hand (err...clawed hand?) to you, and you hesitantly glanced at it before jumping into it. The stranger suddenly took you and started...ruffling your hair? "How intriguing...we are supposed to be the same, and yet you and Poland have this..."

You got confused by the words he/she said. "...'we?.'"

The stranger's smile grew wider, although never in a threatening way. He set you back beside Poland, and stepped back before bowing—and, yes, you were sure he was like Japan when she's engaging with her historical culture. "Let me introduce myself to you. My name is Thieves' Den, and I am one of the four factions of the Inpherno. In this Inphernoid form, I go by 'Nurturing Blade': head chef and owner of this restaurant I run. But in private..."

You almost got caught off-guard by the flashing light Thieves' Den's body took form in. And when it stopped, you were expecting that he's also a countryball (or factionball?) like you...

...not a factionball with a gradiented horn: the upper half now having bud-like formations, the base's curves having a more sideways position, and his marks replaced by longer ones reaching his bottom and some under his eyes.

Oh, he also have bat-like wings, and floating as well.

Despite his now-closed eyes, he seemed to be aware of your bewildered expression. "And, Philippines, we can simply meet each other like this."

Chapter Text

Philippines—you think you managed to remember her very name correctly—was an interesting individual.

After you managed to see her calm down and make her realize that, no, you will not harm her or Poland for any reason, she looked like she was craving to ramble about you and your own nature.  

Before you two could talk about each other though, you (in your base form) realized none of you three can fit within one table, so you led the two to the ground, which...was an awkward statement to create. It was fortunate that you are sanitary, and the two otherworlder factions—no, nations—paid no mind. Poland appeared to be stimming in a way a Representation will act on, even without typical appendages. As a result, he was preening on his wings instead, and his eyes wander around every irregular interval.

You paid no mind to his mutterings that felt too sensitive for this light-hearted topic.

"Your horns are beautiful." Philippines spoke first, breaking the silence. You turned towards her and hummed in approval, and...she suddenly seemed panicked? Her form seemed to be warmer than usual, even at a further glance, and her eyes are wide and darting around the room.

You looked at her, bewildered—your wings lowering for a moment. "Was my humming any offensive to you?"

Philippines further panicked and attempted to straighten her words. "N-no, actually! I was genuinely complimenting your horns, and you just, I dunno, turned around like that and I couldn't compose myself for some reason! Bakit antanga ko (why am I stupid)? And I-I swear I don't lean onto any specific preference—I wasn't just expecting you being like that!"

Poland chuckled, hopping in an area near you two. "She's just tends to be like this, don't worry! Well, she used to act this way usually, before her whole thing."

('Great, Poland...' Philippines thought to herself, internally screaming. Despite what her fellow nations' claim, she never lost her typical personality of being a flustered mess—a combination of facing The Horrors™ multitude of times enough and being able to create an emotional mask for herself let her appear calm and confident.)

(That, and also she never got over her social awkwardness with strangers, especially those she hasn't observed and...uhh...studied.)

You let your eyes show an expression of amusement, and replied to Poland. "You two are an interesting duo. Perhaps it had to do with the customs and norms within your world influencing how Philippines responded to me?"

Philippines, a little bit calmer now, abruptly nodded; for a moment, you were able to notice her eyes shift into nostalgia...and regret. "Oo, oo...yea," she answered, the emotion in her eyes hardening into dwelling over something within her mind. "Well, even with having a brief rundown on how Inphernals work—that's the name of the dominant species, right?—I was sure the running theme of this world was violence. And I would not be offensive, either, if I assumed everyone here has a drive for conflict?"

You hummed, and replied, "Affirmative. Even I, surprisingly, have that innate desire—and so are the rest of my fellow factions. The main difference with my faction, and myself, was how we have a calmer atmosphere compared to the rest of the Inpherno...and I am called 'Thieves' Den' for Swords' sake."

Despite the two's clear unfamiliarity with the Swords (not now, Den. Do not worry over Ghostwalker for now.), they appeared to anticipate your own questions about their world.

"You mentioned feelings and preferences," you started. "Would it be a sensible assumption to mention that the dominant species of your own nations focus on romance?"

"We...uhh...don't have humans in our world," Philippines admitted—and no humans? Strange. "My fellow countryballs are isolated from living with humanity...for reasons. But, of course, we somewhat focus on romance. Or more accurately, love. We do have an affinity for conflict, but we are more drawn to love and connections than a good fight. So the average human might not stand against an average Inphernal due to the desire of the former to reason with the latter."

"However...mmm..." Philippines murmured. "Humans are resilient, and so are we. No matter what happens, no matter how many setbacks and challenges face our way, and no matter how many times we are beaten up, we would...well...be able to keep on going. Lost an arm? Kept on going? Lost most senses? Kept on going. Some factors can dull out that desire, but it still remained there. The average Inphernal could win at face value, but...an average human might be able to keep on trying even while tired until they won the fight, or find weaknesses."

Philippines would had smiled if she had a mouth. "And we nations were not able to experience it that much, unfortunately, because we always go in our own wars and such—"

You widened your eyes and interrupted her. "Apologies for interfering with your tale of humanity, but can you elaborate about these...'wars'?"

Poland looked like his blood ran cold, and Philippines...you swore she stared at your soul. And then you regret asking that question once they started talking...

...

"What do mean you have more than ONE world war?"

After Thieves' Den apologized for his outburst and his (justifiable) reaction to the wars which plagued Earth's history, you three started to move into more...trivial and calmer topics. Unfortunately, you are Poland—a European, and pretty much conceptually unfamiliar with Asian cultures.

Which means you were barely able to understand the rambles the two of these got into. 

"You got carnivorous plants?" Philippines wondered with horror and intrigue within her eyes. 

"Unfortunately, that is true," Thieves' Den replied. "They grow everywhere within my region, and they had been both a sight and great danger to Inphernals. The death rate taken from plantlife murders—and solely murders nature is at fault to—was miniscule compared to the death rates taken within the Faction War, street brawls, or even falling off Playground's floating island cliffs."

You cringed at the implications of the last one. 

"But," Thieves' Den continued, "it was no means never a concern for my faction. However, despite its danger to the average Inphernal, we do not desire to destroy this part of our environment. Even if multiple members of my faction do not believe upon the Swords or any other god, they held sacredness towards nature and its delicate beauty. Our nature is part of our identity, in the same way our clans are such."

"That was something nice to hear," Philippines admitted. "I like your actions to protect the environment...I wished that was how everyone thinks."

She then asked another question, and you can't help but suppress a chuckle. "Say, I am curious about the Swords you had mentioned a few times already. I feel like they were sort of your gods....are they?"

"Deities, yes, but they are significant within our history even this way," you replied. "They had existed long before we factions did, although we as Representations already exist before they started having a political involvement."

Philippines blinked. "...political? Are they not legends?"

You decided not to hold back your chuckle this time. "Dear Philippines, when did I ever mentioned they were not real?"

...

...

"THERE ARE DEITIES IN THIS REALM?!"