Warning: OOC-ness done on purpose; Language

Astral Shadow


"Hey Alfred! Oi… Wake up you bloody-"

My eyes opened up slowly, and what I saw was Arthur's hand millimeters away from my face.

"I'm awake now… No need to slap me, Mr. British Gentleman."

I got up and noticed the difference in his clothes. Arthur now wore the musty green uniform of the British military during World War 2. Wait… how did I know that?

"Why are you wearing something different Artie?"

"Don't call me that. Look at yourself for once, too."

I gazed down at myself and found out I was in America's uniform from the same time frame. I also had a pretty cool bomber jacket.

"What happened? These weren't the clothes I came here with!" I said shocked, tugging at the fabric of my jacket.

Arthur started walking. "Some say here in the Astral Plane, you change to your 'true self.' Make sense to you? Hmm?"

I started running after him. "Wait up! And no, that doesn't make sense to me!"

When I caught up he sighed. "You'll get it eventually."

It was then when I finally took in my surroundings. We were in a hallway and the lights weren't that bright. It looked like a place where you'd go to smuggle drugs or whatever. It was dim and musty and I didn't really like it here. I don't know what, but I just got a bad feeling from this place. Despite that, I continued walking.

"Where are we exactly, Arthur?" I questioned

He scoffed. "Took you long enough to ask. I don't exactly know where, but we are apparently in some underground secret base somewhere in Germany. It looks like it was built during the World War 2 era."

I stopped. "But we were in America when we left!"

"Did you forget what I told you?"

I pouted. "No…"

"Good. Now, right about now… There should be a door around here…"

He looked around in the dim lighting, and I could only fear for something. Ghosts? What the hell? Who said I was scared of ghosts? Why am scared of them all of a sudden?

"H-Hey… Arthur… What if… What if there are ghosts in here? Like Nazi zombies!"

I didn't see it, but Arthur smiled. "Nonsense, Alfred. There aren't ghosts in here because there isn't a reason for them to be here. Right, Flying Mint Bunny?"

Oh shit.

I watched as Arthur continued to pet… something… And he was smiling, too! Oh my god… Not again…

"Artie… Earth to Artie!"

His head turned in my direction. Thank god! "Huh? Oh… Sorry about that… Mint Bunny was just over excited, that's all."

I just nodded.

"So… through these doors lie the enemy. I've been here before, and he is strong, but he won't do anything! He just sits in his over-glorified seat he bloody calls a bleeding throne, and he orders his lackey to do his dirty work! Gah! Bloody hell…" Arthur's fist came into contact with the metal wall. The bang was surprisingly soft. With his tone of voice, it was obvious he was annoyed.

"Uh… Could the guys inside hear that?" I asked with some amount of worry.

"No, because he chose the only room in this whole facility that was sound proof."

He was still annoyed. Dear god, this person must be awesome if he can annoy Artie that much!

"Are we going in any time soon?"

"If you want to we could go in now, or I could spend some more of your time brooding over Ge- Ludwig."

"That's his name? Ludwig?" I asked, picking up the words.

Arthur sighed. "Yes. So… shall we go in?"

I shrugged and nodded. When the door opened, I felt a rush of air, and then I found a knife at my neck.

"What the hell?"

I stared at the small man holding a pocket knife dangerously close to my neck. He was short, had a weird curl sticking out of his hair – which was brown, by the way – and he wore a grey uniform and a sweet cap. I could honestly say I would call him badass if he didn't have a knife to my neck.

"Who enters here without consent?" A stern voice asked.

I tried to look around at my surroundings, the knife at my neck uncomfortable. I saw a man with slicked back, blonde hair wearing the old German SS uniform. He didn't have the red armband, though. His eyes were closed, like he was sleeping. The accent – from what I could tell – was German. The room was small, square, and dimly lit. This place sucked, honestly.

"No need to be serious now, Ludwig," Arthur said. Apparently, this was the man that annoyed the British dude so much. Lo and behold, he was sitting in an over-glorified seat… which means that the one who had a knife to my neck was his lackey! "Feliciano, you can let go, too."

"Not until boss says I can leave his neck in peace." The man said. I am saying he is Italian and that he is in the mafia no matter what. Feliciano – as Arthur called him - fits everything!

"Why are you here Arthur? Say something. It'd better be a good reason, or I'll have Feliciano slit both of your throats." Ludwig demanded.

The small Italian nodded in consent. God… that was scary! I swear his face had one of those sick, twisted smiles that you see the killer in a horror movie do before he kills someone! Yeah right, Italy's a nice boy. He could never do this. Where did that come from? And why did I call Feliciano Italy? My head hurts.

"I'm here to introduce the newest player." Arthur said. Ludwig looked up in interest, his eyes open now. They were a cold ice blue. He stared at me… Or was it glared? I couldn't tell.

"Go on…"

"Alfred F. Jones. He's from America, and he's a special case."

"Special case my- "

"Is he like Ivan?" Ludwig asked… Or demanded… I don't know which.

"Certainly not, but he has the power to match Ivan." What does Arthur mean by that?

"Hm…" It sounded like a sound of approval… "Alright… Feliciano get back over here."

"Understood sir."

The knife was released from my neck, and he went back to Ludwig's side. When I touched my neck I felt something warm. My eyes widened. When I looked at my fingers, they were red.

"He cut me!" I pointed my red finger at Feliciano. Arthur glared at the boy. I think I heard a few curses escape his mouth.

Ludwig glared at Feliciano who tilted his head downward. "Sorry… I just can't help it, you know?"


"Anyways..." Arthur began, inching towards the door. "We'll be going now- Run Alfred! Run like your bloody life depends on it!" And he bolted out the door. What…

"Hurry up and catch him!" Ludwig ordered, pointing at the now open doorway. Feliciano rushed off. "And in the meantime, I have some business with you, Mr. Jones."

My panic sensors went red, and I rushed out the door. I crashed into Feliciano and he nearly tried to slit me again. I ran faster.

My boots clunked down the corridor wanting to see a door leading outside sometime soon…

One appeared a few seconds before I crashed into it.

"Ow… A door!"

I opened it. Cool! It locked from the outside! When it was tightly locked, I heard random curses in Italian. And then sobbing. And my head hurts. Again.

"Took you long enough…" Arthur said smugly, even though he was out of breath.

"What was up with that?"

"Those two are… strange, for lack of a better word. They're the ones we'll be facing. One of them has to go down."

"Can we leave now?"

"Yeah… whatever. That's all you came here today to do anyways."

The next time my eyes opened up, I was in London.

Disclaimer: I no own Hetalia.

A/N: New story~ Yahoo~! This is one of the longest chapters I have written! Awesome~ Oh… And yes, Feli is Germany's little assassin. Tee hee~ Didn't see that coming did you? Well… maybe for some of you it's not. And apparently I sorta indirectly gave him a throat slitting fetish. I blame Sweeny Todd. Even though he's British. And this prologue takes place during the actual story. If you review, I'd appreciate if you used the human names instead of country names please!