ALRIGHTY! Here's another story for you guys! If you didn't know, this is a Troy/Hetalia crossover. It's more of based in Ancient Rome, but Brad Pitt-Achilles, and some other stuff is mentioned so, might as well. Just so you guys know, THIS IS NOT A PARODY! I guess it'll more than likely seem like at times, but I promise you it's not, and if it is, I just intended for it to be just based in that universe, and didn't even consider making this a parody of Troy, 'kay?
Summary: Troy AU. Gilbert, a captain of the Roman army, stumbles across Matthew, another one of his kind. Alfred has been drafted by the Emperor to serve in the Army for his powers, and Matthew must save him from being a slave to the Empire for the rest of his life as Gilbert is. PruCan. Currently T.
Oh yeah, I don't own anything at all in any way.
The blazing desert sun was finally setting over the horizon, setting fire to the sky, painting it gold, orange, and pink, colors so rich only Apollocould bring them to life. The golden rays reflected off the crystalline grains of sand that composed the endless dunes of the wasteland as dissipating heatwaves rippled off the heated surface in the distance. The arid land began its routine of nightly cooling, making the temperatures drop low enough to make a man seek warmth in unconventional places. Say, one of the others he shared a tent with. But that was fine, it was Ancient Rome anyway. And to boot they were all soldiers.
Faintly the stars began to rise from their places in the heavens, pinpricks of light that barely shown in the ascending dusk, to greet Dianaand meet each other in the celestial union of their constellations. Far off in the distance a jackal began its mournful howling to his Mother in the night sky, as though Lupa herself lamented to the skies. A gust of cooler air blew through the deserted dunes, carrying a small bit of silt with it, completing the tranquil atmosphere.
"Captain, we have stripped the town of all valuables, the resisters are dead, and the remaining survivors have all been corralled to the city hall." the Lieutenant General stated, saluting to the inferior soldier, (not even bothering to go to his commanding officer,) that had stood back to watch the proceedings with a look of mild amusement after his role had been played in the assault.
The addressed man broke his chain of thought, shifting his gaze to the higher ranked soldier, who visibly flinched as the bloody gaze nailed him.
"Good. Burn it. Burn it all." He replied flatly. The higher-up saluted, and hurriedly departed the presence of the other man, almost falling down the dune he had just recently climbed to receive orders.
The albino sighed in contempt, running a filthy, blood stained hand through his silver hair. Before him said city lay wasted. Buildings toppled, stands destroyed, homes burning, and the blood of the slaughtered painting the still standing walls. Most of it was his doing.
On any other day Gilbert would be slowly dying inside, feeling his soul withering away into a black oblivion that received nothing and gave nothing, drowning on remorse and anger for himself. ...The monster inside him that would overpower his will, clouding his vision and impairing his judgment, bringing him to his knees. Most of the time he succeeded in keeping it on a short chain, under control, but days like these (and war) the beast swallowed him whole.
But not today. No. He had no remorse. No pain. This village was an abandoned Roman outpost that had decomposed into a congregation of nothing but crime. The establishment was completely composed of thieves, swindlers, murderers, prostitutes, slaves and their sellers. A city of evil. They had cleared the village, taking the willing into custody, as spoils of conquest. Honestly, Gilbert thought they would meet a better fate in the Hall that had just been set ablaze. Flames licked the sky as the remains of the city burned. With his hearing, the albino could faintly hear the screams of the dying as the surrounding inferno swallowed the oxygen all around them, and engulfed their bodies, consuming their lives.
Ruin. That's what lay before him. It was the fall of society, destroying the world brick by brick, and corrupting the hearts and minds of leaders and the innocent. It toppled empires and destroyed lives. This life too, would one day come to ruin. It was a gluttonous abomination that was always hungry, devouring everything in sight. It sought out all establishments, seeking to raze even the inner thoughts of a mind.
And it was an art.
Just a look on the inside of Gil's mind if he was a Roman soldier. ^^ Be happy :3 and read my other fics! You know you want to! Reviews would be nice too guys! I would like to know how good (or lack thereof) I'm doing!