This is my first attempt at writing something completely different other than the usual stuff I write. Or maybe it isn't. I don't know. At the least, it's in the future.

...I don't own Hetalia.

June 26th, 20XX

Location: Madrid, Spain

Antonio couldn't remember how far he had been running. He couldn't remember how long, either. All he knew was he had to stay on his feet, or his death was certain.

Well, he already knew his death was certain. He was simply buying time for the others to escape to safe territory. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Anything if it meant Lovino was safe.

Having searched for a proper hiding spot, the Spaniard took shelter in an alley. His lungs burned as he struggled to take in air. His legs ached, although he was far from done. The one that was chasing him would not stop until he found him.

Fighting the screaming pain in his lungs and legs, Antonio resumed running, looking behind him. It was still tailing him, that inhuman red scope boring through the distance between them. Slowly, but surely, that...thing was catching up with him.

Antonio couldn't tell whether it was a man, or a machine. Either way, it -he- wanted him dead. He hadn't an inking of why this would be. He hadn't done anything to this person.

Turning back to the road ahead, he eventually made his way to an abandoned house.

Locking the door, he looked for any source of light. He couldn't find one, so Antonio was resigned to stumbling blindly in the dark, until he nearly tripped over something.

"Aye, Carumba! What is this-" Feeling whatever he hit, the Spaniard inspected it and realized it was a flight of stairs. Quickly, he ran up to the second floor, running into the nearest room and locking that door as well.

Feeling safe, for the moment at least, Antonio walked over to the window and looked out at what remained of his capital. The buildings were destroyed and on fire. All of his citizens had either fled or died. To see such carnage was horrific.

Looking out into the distance, he could see the vehicle speeding off into the opposite direction. He knew said vehicle contained his adoptive son and several dear friends of his. He didn't want this same fate to befall them.

Looking down, and back into the darkened room, Antonio knew what this meant. He had only a short while left before he was gunned down. It would only be a matter of time before his pursuer located his hiding place. Turning back to the window, he looked up to the sky.

"Are you there?" He whispered heavenward. I'll be dead soon. If that's true, can you do a favor for me?"

Antonio could hear the door downstairs be smashed open. He had better make this quick, then.

"If it is possible," he continued, "I want you to look after my friends, and my boy. You will at least fulfill that wish, si?" He turned, facing the door, and facing his fate. "Protect mi hijo. Protect Lovino for me. Por favor?"

Finally, the door to his room came down, effectively rendering it to splinters. Antonio looked the cyborg right in its mismatched eyes, before closing his own. Whatever way he was going down, he was ready for it.


Even at this distance, Lovino could hear the explosion come from the remains of the town. The Italian strained his eyes to see if he could possibly make out what happened.

"It happened...didn't it? He's really..." The driver and passenger up front appeared not to pay him any mind. As the town got further and further away, Lovino could feel tears well up in his eyes. Whether they were from sadness or anger, or even both, he wasn't sure.

As said tears spilled down his cheeks, he clenched his fists and banged down onto the vehicle, taking his anger out that way.

"You bastard! You stupid, tomato-sucking Spaniard! Why'd you send me away without you?" Lovino beat his fists as hard as he could, attempting to leave some kind of dent in the thing. At this point, the two up front looked over at him.

"Will you stop that? It's not going to make the situation any better!" Francis said, somehow keeping both hands on the wheel as he steered.

"He is right, Lovino," Roderich, the other person up front, said, "Taking your anger out that way will not bring him back."

"Actually," Francis continued, "try to keep Gilbert from falling out of the back there, will you?"

The Italian looked over at the unconscious albino next to him. Not knowing what they meant, he brought him into his lap and held him with both arms. With his hold on Gilbert, Lovino looked out at the town again.

His tears kept falling. He had lost someone very close to him, and this had not been the first time this had happened. He knew how high the stakes were.

Hopefully, he could survive long enough to see the end of this conflict.

I'm still writing Tel pere, tel fils, so don't worry. I haven't given up on that story yet. You will see Matthew's baby soon enough there. I just wanted to try a change of pace.

So...R&R, no flames?