Hooray! My second published fanfic! This one doesn't have any pairings, it's more. Historically accurate? I did a mountain load of research, role-played the whole thing with my friends, watched a couple videos, did some Hetalia research (don't ask!), and I had to put a lot together….so, yeah. If you haven't ever seen them, this is pretty much based off the videos by Sound Horizon (I think that's what they're called,). I'm also not a very good author, so don't flame me!! Soooo…sit down, and enjoy! (Also, one slight note: One translation was: 'Fight of the heroes who will die', but 'Battle of Dying Heroes' sounded more heroic, so I used that. ^^) And this is also my first time writing from the second person! Rated T for violence and language and stuff like that. Also, the 'Interludes' are just there 'cause I like storytelling. (Or, um...something like that...)

Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of its characters!!

It's late, and you're in a hurry to get out of the darkness and into the bright, cheery pub, where there is always a warm fire, a cold beer, and an open door for all travelers.

One can't help feel uneasy, almost like you're being watched, and every rustle in the bushes or snapping of a twig sets your nerves on edge. So likewise, a wave of relief washes over you as you rush into the safety of the pub.

You take a seat as far as possible from the door and order a drink while waiting for your heartbeat to slow down. The bartender, a blonde Swiss with grass green eyes, nods in reply and starts to wipe down a glass with a dirty white rag. You want to mention something about this being extremely unsanitary, but decide against it when you notice the shotgun that is slung carelessly over his shoulder. He doesn't look like he'd be afraid to use it, either-

Your thoughts are cut off suddenly as the door swings open and two strangers enter the pub-a Spaniard and an Italian. "Hola~!" The Spaniard cries, and upon closer inspection, you can see that he has bright green eyes, tousled dark brown hair, tanned skin, and his plain white shirt appears to be covered in..blood???

"You're early." The bartender remarks, but you don't hear the Spaniards' reply, because you're too busy noticing that these two strangers are heading for your table, and the only thing you can think is that this guy is a killer of some sort, and that you must be next on his hit list, (not that you've ever done anything to deserve it!) and then he takes a seat across from you, his Italian friend following almost reluctantly.

"Hola, desconocido!" He exclaims, beaming all too brightly for a serial killer, but your mind is a little too panic-stricken at the moment to see reason. All that you can manage in reply is a small, terrified squeak the barely sounds human, and he leans forward in concern.

"Dispénseme? Are you alright?" he asks, and by now you're wondering if begging for your life would do any good. Maybe at least he'd be merciful enough to make it quick and painless-

"Dammit Spain, stai zitto! Non lo vedi che stai spaventando loro? Idiota ..,.." Once again, your thoughts are interrupted, but this time it's by the fairer-skinned Italian. "Just ignore that tomato bastard. Lui è un buono a nulla."

"Aw, you're so cute, Lovi~" The Spaniard coos, earning a glare and a 'Don't call me that, dammit!' from his companion. "Besides, why would they have any reason to be afraid of me?" He smiles innocently as he says this, but you decide it must all be an act, and they're just waiting for you to let your guard down...

'Lovi' smirks at the others' density, and practically voices your thoughts: "Because you look like you've just murdered someone." He muses.

This causes the Spaniard to look down at himself, and he laughs lightheartedly. "But that's just tomato sauce, silly!" He finally turns to you, who have just been sitting there dumbfounded. "I'm sorry if I scared you! Call me Antonio!" He beams, holding out his hand.

You blink a few times to clear your head, and hesitate a moment before taking his hand and shaking it awkwardly. "Er...that's alright. Nice to meet you." You mumble, as the knot of panic in your stomach starts to untwist itself.

"Please, there has to be a way for me to make up for it! A story, perhaps?" He asks, his eyes shining.

You're just about to open your mouth in protest, but his enthusiasm is almost childish, and for some reason you can't find yourself able to say no to that face. So, you sigh and get comfortable, knowing that you certainly won't be home in time for dinner, and say, "Alright then." After all, who doesn't like a good story? (Besides, you really don't feel like running through the storm that has mysteriously started outside...)

So, with the lightning flashing almost dramatically outside, the Spaniard begins his story.

Yay, I finally finished it! Next chapter will finally start the war! R&R, please, if you want more story! I feel like I really butchered the Spanish and Italian languages in this chapter…so, here are some translation notes!

Hola- Hello

Hola, desconocido- Hello, stranger

Dispénseme?-Excuse me?

stai zitto! Non lo vedi che stai spaventando loro? Idiota- shut up! Can't you see you're scaring them?? Idiot… (Italian, obviously...)

Lui è un buono a nulla- He's a good-for-nothing. (Ouch, harsh words, Romano!)

And that's all for now! Second Chapter will be up soon!