Wonderland

AngolMoaChan

I just wanted to say thank you to all you guys who have reviewed, added me to their favorites, alerts, whatever—thanks! Stuff like that is what makes me want to do quickie updates.

Also, I got a review from someone asking me about the similarities to this and You Can't Take the Sky from Me. After rereading that fic, I kind of noticed them. XD Sometimes when you read good fic it just sticks in your head, you know? I must have been doing it unconsciously. I'll be more careful of that from now on. Thanks so much for pointing that out! C:

Music for this chapter: "Libera Me From Hell" from the Gurren Lagann OST. C:

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The tension in the Diamond Fortress' meeting room was near tangible as the occupants of the room made their way towards a crystal screen. Romano fidgeted in his blue chair, feeling uncomfortable, out of place—and scared. He'd never been more scared in his entire life.

Russia wanted to talk to them.

"So, where's the vide-thingy, huh?" asked the man seated to Spain's left; Prussia. He had his feet up on the table, and there was a gleam in his red eyes that seemed downright thrilled. The military captain was itching for a fight, that much was obvious—he and America both.

England stood before the table, his fingers touching the "receive" button. His heart pounded against his ribcage as he looked from face to face at the table—Spain, Romano, Italy, Germany, Prussia…and America. He grinned at England, flashing him a thumbs up, oblivious as ever.

Stupid git.

And, though he'd never admit it out loud, the simple gesture was enough to steel the Diamond King's courage. He pressed the red button and turned to the crystal screen before them, his hands behind his back.

Within moments, the image of a fair-haired man with brilliant violet eyes appeared on screen. Dressed in a black uniform with a red spade over his heart, the Spade King smiled disarmingly at the group before him. "Hello, Diamond Kingdom! And…oh? The Heart King, as well…? Seems your injuries have healed well."

Spain frowned, his eyes narrowing. "I could say the same for you."

Russia's smile grew. He directed his attention towards England, and said, his voice cheerful, "I've come to strike a deal, England."

"A…deal?" The room echoed with Russia's sentiment. England's eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at the Spade King, his tone wary. Something was off here, "What type of deal?"

"Well, I have two friends from the Diamond Kingdom who came to visit me. Isn't that great?" replied Russia, stepping slightly away from the camera. Behind him, there were two wooden chairs being guarded by a shaking, pale-haired boy. The occupants of the chairs were tied up—both were unconscious. Russia walked over and put his hands in the person in the left chair's hair; it was a girl. He lifted her head with a gentle tug, revealing pretty, feminine features and a flower in her hair.

Prussia stood up, slamming his hands on the table, a look crossing his face that could only be described as pure rage. "Hungary!"

"I wasn't going to capture this young lady, but she just would not get out of my way! She nearly killed Lithuania, and we just couldn't have that, now could we?" Russia said, his voice belaying an easy calm. He dropped Hungary and moved to the other figure; Prussia let out a loud swear.

"You prissy bastard, you didn't let him capture you--!"

The male of the two captives had dark hair, a curl sticking up from the top, and his closed eyes were neatly framed by thin glasses. "He just wandered here—I haven't seen Austria in so long, it was wonderful!"

Prussia grit his teeth, his hands instantly moving to the rapier at his waist. "You sick son of a—"

Suddenly, England held out a hand, silencing the glowering, furious captain with just a look. He turned to the screen and asked, his voice hard, "What "deal" would you like to make?"

"Oh, it's very simple! I want you to bring me the Blue and Red pieces and join my country. We can rule over everything together, da? Me, you and Spain."

"No thanks," replied the Diamond King, his tone dark, "I'm not interested."

Russia looked rather hurt at the accusation; he frowned at England, sticking his hands in the pockets of his large jacket. "Ah, well. Spain?"

"I'd rather die."

"Hm. Well…it is okay. I did not want to take it by force, but if you insist…"the Spade King replied with a smile, although the shadow covering his face betrayed his true meaning, "I shall have to. And Austria and Hungary are going to stay with me for just a little while longer. We're going to have a wonderful time. Goodbye, England."

"No--!"

Prussia moved forwards to attack the screen in a blind rage, just as the video feed cut off. He hit the wall with one fist, dropping his rapier at his side. The entire room was dead silent, taking in the horror of what had just been said—at the horrendous uncertainty of it all.

"No…dammit…this can't be happening! Fuck!"

In an instant, Spain and France were up from the table, moving beside the military captain. "Gilbert!""

"Roderich—and—and Elizaveta!" Prussia punched the wall, leaving a good size dent in the plaster. His shoulders shook with rage, his muscular frame trembling. Spain bit his lip, glancing at France, then at England.

"England," he said softly, green eyes meeting those of his fellow King. England let out a long, deep sigh; then a frown came over his face.

"America!"

"Yessir!" snapped back the blonde military captain, leaping up from his seat. If the situation were lighter, England would have smiled; America listening to him was a rare sight indeed.

"I want you to call Japan," he commanded, heading out towards the door and pausing on the doorframe. "Tell him and the others of the Clover that we need their help."

"…Help?"

"Yes, help. We are going to rescue Austria and Hungary, you twat! We can't just go running in there with no back up, now can we?"

Every head in the room turned to look at England, most struck with awe; a huge grin cracked America's face and he bounded out of the room with another cheery salute, whooping his way down the hallway. Prussia was the first to speak again, looking at the Diamond King. "…I'm going too."

"Of course you are—if it is alright with your King…?"

Spain nodded, standing up. "I'd like to go as well. As a refugee of your country, may I have permission to join you on this expedition?"

"…Permission not granted."

The Heart King looked as if he had been personally insulted. His fists clenched at his sides, and he asked, fire blazing in his green eyes, "How could you—"

"Your injuries, Antonio. You aren't healthy enough to be an asset to me in this. I want you to stay here with the Vargas' and run my country while I am away." England's voice was steel, daring the Spaniard to challenge him, "Do you understand?"

"…tch!" Spain looked to the side, his voice bitter, "Understood."

"Alright then. We move out at dawn," England looked over the people at the table, his features hard. "Do you understand?"

"SIR!"

"…And that is the situation."

The Clover King, a young man with dark hair tied in a ponytail, drummed his fingers on the desk before him as he studied his lieutenant and close friend, Japan. The young man was emotionless as always, his brown eyes steady on his commanders. Ever polite, he bowed, placing his fist over his heart. The King waved it off, frowning intensely as he looked over the papers on his desk. There was a letter, manilla parchment and fancy scroll, signed with the red seal of the Spade country, sitting atop of the deep mahogany frame.

He had read over that letter so many times now, it was creased and worn from where his fingers crumpled the delicate paper. China, it read, I would like to request an alliance with your country tomorrow, when the sun sets. Please meet me in my Kingdom then.

And he had signed it with his real name; a rare gesture from Russia of all people. Sincerely, Ivan Braginiski.

China's brow furrowed as he traced the symbol of the Spade with one pale finger. The letter had come early this morning, arriving on the back of a Featherbat, a creature indigenous to the Spade Country, and now, after hearing the news about Spain…

His stomach lurched at the thought.

Russia was trying to take over Utopia. That much he knew. And while his gut told him to join England and the others in their crusade against Russia, his heart recalled flashes of memories; of two princes and of a promise made in the dark of the night.

Uneasily, his hand moved to his heart. The mark of the Sacred Promise was there; a deep, dark black Spade. He couldn't refuse a request from his friend. He swore not to. And if he did…he would perish.

"Your highness…?"

China took in a deep breath, slowly looking up at his subordinate. "…send them Korea. We will see what happens from there, aru."

"Sir." Japan replied; though a slight tic of his eyebrow revealed his confusion. China sighed.

"Don't look at me like that. Im Young Soo can handle himself…mostly. I'm sure that's all the help they need, aru."

Japan said nothing; he mutely turned and headed down the hallway, out to tell his soon to be ecstatic peer of the news. China was hiding something—Japan was not stupid.

He frowned as he reached Korea's room, then stopped, and stepped into his own office, reaching for the phone. His left hand touching the black scabbard at his side for reassurance, the lieutenant set about to call his friend America once more. Yes, the Diamond would get help, and not just from Korea—from himself.

Phew…sorry that took so long everyone! This chapter was hard to write for some reason…;u;