Kalda didn't like what she was seeing; in fact, Kalda hated what she was seeing.

People of all ages were either in a chamber screaming and then silenced after a minute, or they were being pulled apart at the limbs by getting stretched in ways that they never should be stretched.

No one should have to through all of this, Kalda thought to herself. What have they done wrong?

Kalda stopped walking when Prussia stopped walking, seeing three men come up to them; Kalda hid behind her caretaker, not wanting to be seen by the other men.

"General," one said. "It's been a vhile."

"I see zhat nozhing has changed," Prussia answered sternly, not even bothering to greet them. "Did you not receive your orders?"

"Ve did, but zhese two vanted to ignore zhem," another soldier answered, ratting his friends out.

"Ve did not!" a third stated.

"I don't vant to hear it!" Prussia interrupted their soon-to-be-qurrel, clearly becoming angry. "Vhat's zhe point of running a Death Camp when no one obeys zhe orders of zheir superior?"

"Please don't yell at zhem, vati," Kalda said in a low and timid voice, doing her best male voice and German accent that she could. "Zhey didn't know."

"Who's zhis?" the first soldier asked.

"He is a boy my brozher und I took in from zhe street," Prussia explained, calming down. "Apparently some people aren't as kind to zheir family members as zhey should be."

Kalda knew that his answer was slightly true, and it hurt her heart to think about it.

My Italian brothers didn't drive me away, Kalda thought sadly. I drew myself away from them.

"Vhat's his name?" the second soldier asked.

"Max," Prussia answered. "Not very German, but ve figured zhat he must be from somevhere else."

"Not very blonde and blue-eyed like zhe rest of us, eh?" the third soldier wondered.

"Like I said, he must have grown up somevhere else," Prussia answered defensively.

There was silence, except for the screams, smells, and sights from inside the building, and Kalda nudged Prussia in his back with her elbow to make him face her.

"Mister Beilschmidt," Kalda started, "I don't feel so good."

(A/N: Five digital cookie emojis for whoever gets this reference. 🤣)

Prussia didn't have any time to react as Kalda ran out of the open door, vomiting by the side of the building.

Everything in there is horrible! Kalda cried. I can't stand watching that!

"Max?" Prussia asked, walking outside with the other three soldiers.

They gasped once they saw what had happened.

"I-I zhrew up," Kalda stated, sniffling.

"Maybe zhis isn't zhe right job for him," the third soldier stated.

"He vill be fine," Prussia replied with a glare. "Ve vere all like zhis on zhe first day, remember?"

"I can't go back in zhere!" Kalda told him through her tears. "I just can't!"

"And you don't have to," Prussia smiled. "Vhy don't you go und talk to zhat lonely boy over zhere?"

Kalda nodded, running over to the boy.

"You're letting him talk to a prisoner?" one soldier asked. "Isn't zhat against zhe rules?"

"Who runs zhis Camp?" Prussia snapped, glaring at the other man.

"Vhatever you say, General," the soldier nodded nervously, scared for his life.

While Prussia and the soldiers were talking, Kalda walked up to the fence, sitting in front of it to face the boy on the other side.

"Um," Kalda stuttered, "h-hi."

The boy looked to be fourteen, so it was awkward for Kalda to talk to someone who wasn't around her own age.

"Hi!" the boy said cheerfully, despite Kalda being dressed as a German soldier. "You must be new, right?"

Kalda knew that the boy must have seen her throw up, and that made her feel insecure.

"You didn't see me zhrow up, did you?" Kalda asked, still playing the part of "Max."

The boy laughed.

"It happens to all of the new ones," he replied. "I'm Abraham, by the way."

"M-Max," Kalda stuttered out with a red face, not really sure if she could trust Abraham or not.

"You're blushing like a girl," Abraham smirked. "Are you a girl?"

"Are you a boy?" Kalda shot back.

"I like your spirit," Abraham grinned, "Miss Whoever You Are."

"Jane, and please don't tell anyone," Kalda whispered, becoming her normal self. "If any of these soldiers, except for Mister Beilschmidt, found out, I might end up on the other side of the fence, too."

"I take it that you've been threatened to come here before?" Abraham asked, turning serious.

Kalda nodded.

"Once," she replied. "By a friend, if you can believe it."

"I can't imagine," Abraham said sadly. "Anyway, onto a different subject, what's a pretty girl like you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home?"

"That, my friend, is a complicated story," Kalda smirked. "One that I don't have time for. I guess all that I need to say is that I'm just another game piece trying to end the War."

"And free my people, I hope," Abraham told her seriously.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Kalda said. "I promise that I'm going to make this right."

"Max, come on! Ve have somevhere to go!" Prussia's faint voice called.

"I have to go," Kalda whispered again, "but I'll see you later, okay?"

"Bye, Jane," Abraham smiled.

"Bye, Abraham," Kalda grinned, standing up and running over to Prussia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You two seem "buddy buddy" now," America said seriously, gesturing to the caged-up Oliver in the distance.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Britain replied, looking at his brother.

"You made him scream...like...a lot," America answered.

"He wasn't screaming," Britain stated. "He was happy, something that he hasn't been in a long time."

"You're treating him like a pet," America added on.

"I'm treating him like a person," Britain shot back. "Maybe you should take some notes."

"What's with zhe instant fighting?" France wondered, walking into the tent.

"Fighting?" Britain asked innocently. "I didn't hear any fighting. Did you, America?"

"He's hiding something!" America accused, looking at France.

"Oh, please," Britain scoffed. "Since when would I keep secrets from you?"

"You really wanna' go there?" America asked flatly.

"Fight me, mate," Britain retorted, taking a sip of his tea.

(A/N: I had to! It was too perfect! 🤣)

America just stood down, not wanting a fight; he didn't want to push Britain's buttons, and he knew firsthand what his anger was like.

It wasn't as bad France's anger, however, but it was pretty close.

"Are you hiding somezhing?" France mused, almost asking himself instead of Britain.

"I think being with his other half has put new thoughts into his head," America stated.

"It has not!" Britain defended for himself and Oliver. "I'm fine, I'm not hiding things, and I don't even know what your problem is!"

"Arthur," Oliver whined dramatically as he walked into the tent, "I'm hungry. Why haven't you fed me yet? It's already noon, and I can't stand being hungry anymore."

The three Allies gasped, wondering how he could have escaped.

"Bloody hell, Oliver!" Britain cried. "How did you get out?"

Oliver grinned, happy that Britain had asked.

"Well you see, it's actually quite simple," he said. "I have this really weird knack for picking locks with my fingernails. I can teach you some time, if you would like! The first step is to start growing them out and filing them to make them really sharp, and then you-"

Britain put a hand over Oliver's mouth, glaring at him.

"I don't want to hear that," he said.

He looked at America and France, seeing their unamused looks.

"Oh, shut up already," Britain snapped at them, pushing Oliver out of the tent with his hand still over the Second Player's mouth.

"I'mf hunfry," Oliver whined again, his voice muffled.

"Yes, idiot, I know," Britain replied through clenched teeth, trying to find a long piece of rope.

He eventually found one, taking it and tying one end around Oliver's waist.

"There," Britain sighed with a smile. "I'll hold the other end while you walk around."

"Is this so that I can't escape?" Oliver laughed, amused by Britain's poor attempt of keeping him close by. "I seriously thought that you were smarter than this."

"I'm trusting you, remember?" Britain stated. "Don't make me regret it because I can put you back and into that cage any time I want!"

"Please don't put me back in there!" Oliver cried, hugging onto Britain for dear life. "I hated feeling like an animal!"

"Then don't mock my rope idea," Britain harshly told the other man.

"Fine," Oliver groaned, allowing Britain to walk him around like a puppy.

They walked by some nurses, and Oliver stopped walking to give them a flirty smile.

"Hello there, my beautiful poppets," he told them.

The nurses blushed a dark red, not quite sure how to respond.

"I thought you said that you were hungry," Britain told Oliver, pulling him along.

"Well, you need to some time to flirt!" Oliver giggled. "Besides, they were blushing. That means that they like me."

"Just because they were blushing, it doesn't mean that they like you," Britain explained in annoyance. "Now, listen. I'm going to bring the other two with us so that you can eat. Can you handle being with them?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Oliver asked in confusion.

Britain sighed softly as they stopped walking.

"If you're not ready to be with them, I-" Britain started, but Oliver cut him off with a smile.

"I'll be super quiet," he promised. "As long as they don't talk to me, I'll be okay."

"Well, only if you're sure," Britain allowed as they started walking again.

"You don't have to worry about me, poppet!" Oliver cheerfully replied. "I can be on my very best behavior when someone allows me to be."

"Please don't call me "poppet" ever again," Britain glared. "You sound like some love-sick school boy, and that's not how a gentleman speaks to women or to other men."

"You call other people "love," though," Oliver whined.

"But at least it sounds better," Britain answered. "Now, shape up. You are too old for whining."

"Why is my third in command tied up?" Luciano wondered.

"Aw, I'm your third in command?" Oliver gushed, blushing.

"Only because Xao is busy, Viktor is begging his sister to become one with him again, and Francois is trying to start a gang like the Italian mafia because Flavio quit to do gay fashion modeling with First Player Spain," Luciano flatly explained.

"Ouch," Britain muttered to himself, feeling bad for Oliver.

"What?" Oliver wondered, seeming more confused than upset. "Then who's before me?"

"Lutz still trumps you because even though he's dumb, he has good ideas," Luciano answered. "Kuro also trumps you because he knows how to throw knives better than you, and I don't think that you're at liberty to ask questions."

Double ouch, Britain thought.

"And I don't think that you are at liberty to bully others," Britain snapped.

Luciano glared at the blonde, seeming to be offended.

"You dare to speak that way to me?" he demanded, wanting an answer.

"You shouldn't have done that, Arthur," Oliver said, becoming scared. "Now, you  made him angry."

Britain growled, walking away with Oliver close behind.

"You weren't kidding about him getting mad at you?" he asked.

"What, you thought that I made it up?" Oliver asked, offended.

"I didn't trust you twenty-four hours ago, okay?" Britain replied, becoming nervous as well. "What else did you expect?"

Oliver opened up his mouth, but then he closed it; he thought about the response that he had been given, sighing.

"Well, I guess that you do have a point there," he agreed. "I'm not a very...sane person, for the lack of a better word, to be around."

"All of us are crazy, but friends should look past that," Britain answered with a smile.

"What are you saying?" Oliver questioned.

"I'm saying that maybe the only reason Luciano is keeping you around is because you're an insane and psychopathic killer," Britain explained. "Isn't it time that maybe you found some...real friends?"

Oliver looked at the ground, seeing his feet keep in time with Britain's.

"Well, I suppose so," he sighed, "but who would want to be friends with me? I never had friends growing up except for the other Second Players, and even then they fought me. To find new friends and waste years of time being with them almost seems like an insult. It won't go down well, I'll tell you that much."

Britain nodded, seeing where Oliver was coming from; being an outcast must have been hard for him, and Britain sadly couldn't understand the strawberry blonde's pain.

"Well, you've got me," Britain shrugged. "I'm probably no...Francois or anything like that, but I am more humane than the things that you have probably encountered, and-"

"You really do know how to cheer a man up, don't you?" Oliver said, hugging Britain.

Britain chuckled softly.

"Isn't that what friends do, love?" he replied, his voice soft.

"I guess even the broken can be made new, poppet," Oliver giggled softly.

"Yes," Britain agreed, "they can."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been at least two weeks since Kalda had been to Auschwitz, the Death Camp where she had met Abraham, and Kalda had been able to overlook the death.

Auschwitz was rumored to be the worst of all Death Camps, and Kalda could see why.

She was heavily trained by Prussia to overlook the death, but she was still squeamish at times.

So, Prussia ordered her to help the new prisoners unpack and get settled into their homes since he saw how much the other things that were happening seemed too unkind for her nature.

"I wish that they didn't have to die," Kalda told Abraham as they walked through a building together.

Kalda was taking her first census, and since Abraham and Kalda shared such a strong bond, Prussia allowed him to show her his people for the census.

"It's okay," Abraham smiled. "God is on our side. He promised my people a long time ago that we would reach the Promised Land, and that all of our mortal pain would end."

Kalda grinned, her frown literally turning upside down; she was always fascinated by the other religions of the world, and the Hebrew people were always on her list.

"The Jewish people have always interested me," she said. "I'm never bored because there's always so much to learn."

"Well, I'd be happy to teach you some time if I don't die," Abraham laughed.

Kalda giggled, writing down the final count for the building that they were in.

1, 563, Kalda thought to herself. Not a whole lot, but probably too much for one building in this Camp.

"So, where to now?" Kalda asked.

"Through the building where you threw up by on the first day," Abraham smirked.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" Kalda sighed with a smile.

"Probably not," Abraham replied, laughing.

They started walking, and Kalda was tired of seeing people suffer.

One way or another, this is going to end, Kalda thought, a protective passion burning inside her.

"Although, I can't blame you," Abraham said softly. "My parents died in front of a firing squad because they tried to escape. I threw up after that, and now I live with my aunt and cousins."

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Kalda answered. "I don't have any family, either, except for three brothers, but they're not even my real family. They took me in when I was young, and I've been an orphan my whole life. I don't have a mother, a father, biological siblings, or any other relatives."

"That must suck," Abraham stated.

"It's...probably the worst thing that I could ever imagine a kid going through besides this Camp," Kalda explained. "I feel your pain. Maybe not on an "I Watched My Family Die In Front Of My Eyes" level, but on another level, I know exactly how you feel."

Abraham closed his eyes, clinging onto Kalda as they walked through a new room.

"This scares me, Jane," Abraham said in a choked up voice.

"It's okay, Abraham," Kalda assured him softly. "No one's going to hurt you, I promise."

Suddenly, they saw Prussia talking to a prisoner, and it didn't look good; Abraham instantly ran up to him, trying to push him into an open chamber of some sort.

Kalda ran up to save Abraham and Prussia from getting into a fist-fight, but she was too late!

Abraham had already pushed Prussia into the chamber, locking the door from the outside since that was the only way to close it.

"Abraham, no!" Kalda cried, seeing him pull down a lever.

Prussia instantly started coughing, a loud hissing noise surrounding them;
Prussia began to bang on the door, silently demanding to be let out through the soundproofed door.

He had a crazed and fearful look in his eyes, and Kalda couldn't take that look; not from her family, not from her friends, not from Britain, and definitely not from Prussia.

Kalda helped a soldier who had seen everything open up the door, trying to set him free.

Another soldier called for help on a hand radio, alerting the other three Axis about what had happened.

The Axis had come quite quickly, so Kalda had supposed that they were already in the area.

"Kalda!" Veneziano cried, seeing his sister and the soldier trying to open up the door.

"Prussia!" Kalda yelled at the window, seeing him dozing off. "Can you hear me? We're going to get you out of there, okay?"

"Back up!" Germany ordered. "I have zhe key!"

Kalda pulled Abraham aside, seeing the neutral look on his face.

"What in Heaven's name compelled you to do that?" Kalda worriedly asked the boy.

"I just wanted him to feel the same way!" Abraham replied, bursting into tears. "I was going to let him out, but I forgot that the door locked!"

Kalda hugged him, giving him to her brother and Japan before she went to go and help Germany.

"Kalda, back up!" Germany yelled at her, seeing her walk over to him. "Zhis is a man's job, not yours!"

Kalda ignored his order, looking at her brother.

"Veneziano, I'm sorry," was all Kalda said, smiling. "I love you, okay? Don't ever forget that."

"K-Kaldy?" Veneziano asked, his amber eyes widening in fear. "No, don't! Kaldy, no!"

Kalda walked up to the door, opening it normally as if it hadn't been locked.

"Nein, Kalda!" Germany yelled again, but Kalda didn't listen to him.

She coughed as she entered the chamber, seeing Prussia sitting in a corner; Kalda shook his shoulders, wanting him to wake up.

"Prussia!" Kalda coughed, ignoring the chemicals stinging at her eyes and flaring up in her lungs. "Prussia, wake up!"

"Kalda!" Prussia screamed. "Get out of here! You're not supposed to be in here!"

"Neither are you, so get up and come with me!" Kalda replied.

Prussia stood up, but he was too weak;  he fell to his knees, Kalda kneeling in front of him.

"Kalda," he coughed, tears streaming down his face, "it's too late."

"Then we'll die together," she smiled through her own tears.

They hugged each other, trying to ease the other's pain.

"I wish that you were my dad," she whispered. "You're brave and awesome."

Prussia chuckled, coughing.

"You're not a bad kid, eizher," he agreed.

Kalda and Prussia had also grown a strong bond, and they treated each other like they were family.

"I love you, Prussia," Kalda said.

"I love you, too, Kalda," Prussia replied.

They pulled apart, smiling as tears fell down their cheeks.

Their eyes slowly started to close, and they fell to the chamber floor.

"KALDA, NO!"

"PRUSSIA, NEIN!"

Veneziano and Germany screamed at the window in unison, seeing Prussia and Kalda fall to the chamber floor....

Dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone was crying; the news had spread quickly, and the funeral went by in a blur.

"She didn't have to do that!" Veneziano cried into Romano's chest. "I should have stopped her, but I just stood there!"

"Non avresti potuto aiutarla, fratellino," Romano muttered, trying to calm his brother down.

(A/N: Translation: "You couldn't have helped her, little brother.")

"Little Kalda," Russia said solemnly. "Was so young."

"I lost two, very brave varriors today," Germany stated. "Ve all did."

"It didn't have to end like zhis," France added, holding back tears. "My niece, Kalda, no."

"I never got to say goodbye to her," America sniffed, wiping his tears with jacket his sleeve. "I never even got to tell her that I loved her like a sister."

"Goodbye, Kalda and Prussia," Japan and China said in unison, bowing to their graves in respect.

Britain walked up to Kalda's grave, kneeling in front of it.

"Why, Kalda?" he asked softly, touching her name that was chiseled onto the gravestone with the tips of his fingers. "Why? Why did you have to die?"

Tears streamed from his eyes, all of the Second Players and First Players silent as the nation kneeled there.

He screamed, pounding his fists on the ground, sobbing.

"DAMN IT, KALDA!" he yelled in anger. "DAMN IT, WHY? WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF? WHY?"

Britain heard footsteps crunch on the gravel beneath their feet, a hand resting on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault, poppet," Oliver told his other half, crouching beside him. "You couldn't have possibly been there to protect her. It wasn't in your path."

"The War didn't have to end like this!" Britain sobbed. "She didn't have to end like this! I never even got to tell her that I loved her!"

"Well, neither did I," Luciano snapped.

Britain stood up, whirling around to face the man.

"What do you want from me now, Luciano?" Britain demanded. "I lost in the War, I lost my sanity, I lost the one thing that I held dear, and I lost Kalda! What do you want from me now?What?"

"I..want...you...DEAD!" Luciano screamed, cocking his pistol and aiming it at Britain. "I want you dead, Britain! That's what I want!"

"Hasn't zhere been enough bloodshed?" Germany demanded.

The others started fighting, wanting their revenge.

"Why are you all yelling?" Veneziano sobbed. "Kalda is gone, and you're all arguing?"

"Feli, calm down," Romano said firmly.

Suddenly, there was grunting; the men looked to see Prussia gasp for air as he emerged from the dirt grave, shock spreading among them.

"Prussia!" Germany cried, running up to his brother to help him stand up.

"Vest," Prussia sighed, hugging his brother.

Then, Prussia looked to Kalda's grave; he gasped, running up to it.

"Oh, no!" he said in worry. "Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no! Kalda, please, come on!"

"Will she even come back?" Canada wondered quietly. "I feel like she wasn't even a real country."

"I've been zhinking zhat, too," France admitted, "even zhough I shouldn't be."

"She will make it," Britain assured them. "She has to."

He sighed, looking at her grave.

"Come on, Kalda," he whispered. "Please make this. Please, for me."

There was silence, everyone waiting in anticipation for Kalda to come out of her grave as well, but nothing happened.

"Come on, Britain," France stated quietly. "I am afraid zhat she isn't coming back."

Britain just nodded in agreement, the group of men walking away from her grave together.

Kalda suddenly gasped and coughed for air as she came out of her grave as well, seeing them walking away from her.

"Hey!" she called to them. "Where are you going?"

The group of men stopped, turning to face her.

"KALDA!" they cheered in unison.

They happily ran up to her, swallowing her up in one, big group hug.