Title: The Renaissance of Madness
Author: PwnedByPineapple
Summary: The world is infested, and humanity's remnants struggle for survival in North America's battered lands. But the human race is slowly beginning to reassert dominance once again, thanks to living weapons called 'nations'. AU zombie!fic. Natalia/Alfred.
Rating/Warning(s): T; zombies ahoy, so expect some blood, gore, and language
Notes: Written for a "My Bloody Valentine" contest and a 100 Theme Challenge prompt "Zombies". You could call this a concept fic - I rather like the idea, but I don't plan to continue it any further. Also, just a heads up: there is absolutely nothing scientific about this fic, nor did I even try to make it so. It's all 100% BS. Happy Valentine's Day!
Recommended Listening: "Seven Nation Army" by The White Stripes (particularly the Glitch Mob variation)

Disclaimer: This fangirl owns nothing, though my subconscious most likely lifted some the backstory from a mishmash of various zombies stories that my brain has encountered.

"I'm gonna fight 'em off. A seven-nation army couldn't hold me back. They're gonna rip it off, taking their time right behind my back."

Had the chick not been the gruesomely rotting, your-flesh-looks-yummy-so-let-me-eat-it kind of monster that might as well have been an actual corpse, Alfred knew she woulda been smokin' hot.

But there was absolutely nothing attractive about the way her yellowed teeth were a foot from his face, gnashing and gnawing and obviously wanting a piece of his handsome mug. Alfred grimaced as he held her writhing form off with one hand, the other scrabbling for his machete. Well, she wasn't gonna get any piece of it! There was only one lady with that right, and where was she, anyway? She was supposed to be helpin'!

"Get," the American's free hand ran over straggly grass and brushed against something hard, "the fuck," he grabbed wildly at it and felt his hand connect with a hilt, "off!" He clenched and swiped upward, but the angle at which he was pinned was too awkward. Instead of striking the neck, his machete tore up through the girl's stomach, splitting her from belly to breastbone and exposing all sorts of innards that even he, a professional, couldn't help but wince at.

Though he hadn't succeeded in his kill, the action was enough to loosen her iron grip on him. With a wordless shout of triumph, Alfred kicked at his attacker; his boot squarely made contact with the center of her body, sending her flying and accompanied by a squelching sound, and he was sure that blood and guts coated that particular boot now. Great.

Alfred didn't dwell. He leapt to his feet and felt the world tilt very oddly for a moment. Only it wasn't the world... it was him, and surprise made itself known to his features when he realized that most of the blood coating his body was his own. His. Huh. That was odd. Really, really... odd...

The chick was rounding on him to attack again. These damned things didn't die easily unless you went for the head, and this one's head was proving a little too elusive. Trying to ignore the dizziness, Alfred hefted his machete. "C'mon, bitch," he taunted, licking his lips and tasting a metallic tang. "Come get me!"

She lunged. He lifted his weapon, but it was strangely heavy. No - no, it wasn't high enough. He couldn't lift it high enough. His legs were tingling, threatening to collapse on him. He saw the zombie reaching for him, but his fighting instincts seemed to have leaked out with his blood. He couldn't move fast enough...

A headless corpse teetered and fell at his feet, and Alfred stared down at the bloodied place where its head should have been, grimacing and blinking in surprise. He looked up, mouth hanging slightly open, and a pair of lips met his.

That was a pleasant surprise. He dropped his machete and leaned forward into the kiss, but was denied the best part when she broke it off just as quickly. "Hey," he mumbled in protest, but the silvery glare shut him up. It was ice cold and not in the best of moods, and he realized he was lucky that she hadn't just hit him instead.

"You stupid moron," Natalia muttered. One of her hands had tangled itself gently into his hair, and her gaze traced over his face, partly out of relief and partly to asses the damage. Her other hand, after sliding its blade into the sheath on her back, found each one of his wounds, and Alfred let himself be inspected. There wasn't much else he could do. He was really dizzy.

"Hey," he said again, and the word felt thick and clumsy as it exited his mouth. "I'm kinda... I need to..."

Natalia got the message at once. Taking his arms in her own, she helped him to sit, easing him to the ground. The feeling of toppling over at any minute slowly faded, though nausea still churned in his stomach, and he dropped his head into shaking hands. God. What was wrong with him?

"... Must look really pathetic right now, huh?" he murmured. Him, almost incapacitated by a few little wounds. The strongest, and he couldn't even handle a few freakin' zombies.

"I'm surprised it didn't turn out worse," Natalia said, by way of reassuring him, and he lifted his head, eyeing her blearily as she delved into her pack.

"Huh?"

She paused in her searching to give him a look. "Exactly how many did you kill?"

"It was... only a few..." Alfred trailed off when Natalia nodded to their surroundings, and his wearied gaze followed where she indicated.

Bodies. Zombies. Dozens of them. All decapitated. The entire barren area reeked of blood and death, and Alfred tried to think past his confusion. Surely he hadn't killed all of them? There must've been at least thirty. He would remember slaughtering that many... wouldn't he?

It's the madness, the madness, it's come to get you at last.

"Adrenaline," Natalia said shortly, in realization. "Now that it's faded, you can't remember, can you?"

That had to be it. Adrenaline. The heat of battle. Not madness. Most definitely not madness.

"Yeah," he said shakily. Well, that explained why he'd sustained so many wounds. Though he was a bit unnerved by the lack of memory, he couldn't help but feel relieved that he hadn't turned out to be a weakling after all. Natalia was right. It could have been a lot worse.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" Natalia asked, suddenly angry as she pulled gauze out of her pack. He flinched at her steel glare.

"Um," he said intelligently, because he honestly didn't know what had possessed him to attack on his own. "Male impulsiveness?"

Natalia snorted in disapproval, pulling off a strip of gauze and beginning to bind the largest gash, on his shoulder. "You keep doing these things," she said, not meeting his eyes, frowning determinedly at her work. "And one day, it's not going to end well. It almost went badly today. That's why we are partners. So neither of us has to worry or lose the other. You shouldn't go running off on your own like that."

Alfred gazed at her in astonishment as guilt began to gnaw at him. That had to be the most words she'd ever strung together without interruption. She was telling him, in her own way, that she had been truly worried about him... and now he felt terrible for causing her concern.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, reaching up to take a strand of her silvery hair and twirl it gently between his fingers. He loved her hair. "I'm an idiot, aren't I?"

"Yes," she said vehemently, and he chuckled, lapsing into silence to let her mother him.

She worked steadily, bandaging the worst of the cuts and making sure none of them were infected. Though he found her movements and ministrations very distracting, Alfred nonetheless kept up a vigilant watch, his eyes and ears peeled for any hint of approaching zombies. The damned things had a way of sneakin' up on you, and he was not about to be caught off guard by another pack of 'em.

When Natalia had finished, she returned to her pack. "We're going back to Matthew. You need to stay with him until you heal," she said, fishing around once more, and Alfred adopted a pout.

"But that'll take hours!" he said. "We're so close!"

Natalia gave him another glare, and Alfred subsided with a grumble, which became an exclamation of delight when Natalia withdrew a canteen and tossed it to him. Alfred caught it deftly, grinning. "Thanks," he said, clutching at it greedily. There was nothing like Yao's herbal tea mixed with a dose of whiskey to take the edge off pain and clear the head.

As he indulged, Natalia slipped the sleek phone from her belt and made quick contact with their temporary base. "We're coming in," she said shortly. "Alfred got himself hurt."

"Is he okay?" came the concerned voice of Alfred's twin across the speaker.

"He will be," Natalia answered. "Coordinates."

"Coming your way." There was a pause as Matthew sent his location to the phone, and Natalia took a brief look at the screen, calling up a map and reaffirming their own position in relation to it. "And heads up - HQ told me that this area's mostly clear and that we need to keep moving south."

"Good," Natalia said quietly, nodding in satisfaction at this new revelation. Mostly clear meant that they could move on. Move closer to their goal. "Make sure to call the others in."

Matthew chuckled. "Already did."

Alfred felt the small glow of triumph that always accompanied moments like these. His team's objective was simple - to move slowly but inexorably forward, wherever directed, and eradicate whatever zombies they came across. Once a significant portion of land had been cleared by the various teams, the regulars moved in and secured the territory.

A slow process, but an effective one. Half of North America was firmly in the hands of the sane. Alfred and his fellows were now advancing through what had once been Mexico, to take it back as they had the lower part of the original United States.

So far, Mexico had been fairly easy. But there was a greater enemy waiting within its depths, far worse than these regular zombies.

Alfred was looking forward to the challenge. And moving on meant he'd have plenty of time to heal before the next sweep.

As Natalia ended the call and slipped the phone back into her belt, Alfred tossed the canteen to her and set a hand against the ground, attempting to push himself up. A moment later, a cool hand slipped into his and did most of the work for him, and Alfred sighed. "I canmanage on two feet, y'know," he told the woman who had not yet let go of his hand, and her disbelieving huff made her opinion very clear.

"We're heading southwest," Natalia told him, finally releasing his fingers to hoist her pack. "They advanced while we were busy here."

"That's good," Alfred said absently. He was looking around at the carnage - the carnage he had caused - and though there was no regret in him, there was a certain amount of melancholy... and faint fear. But there was no madness in him, he told himself. It would have surfaced long ago if it existed.

He took a few steps forward, his body already beginning to recover so that his gait was not so unsteady, and bent down to retrieve his dropped machete. As he did, he took an unflinching glance at the headless corpse that Natalia had felled and nodded, once. "Sorry about this, sweetheart," he said. "I'm sure you were lovely when you were normal."

Straightening, sheathing the weapon at his side, he let his gaze sweep through the rest of the corpses, and silently he made the same apology to them all.

Many of his fellows would have and did scoff at such a thing, but Alfred knew that, at least for himself, it was the one thing that separated him from the insane. This little ritual, this ability, assured him that he was still mostly human. That he hadn't just become a killing machine, a 'nation', whatever that meant. That the madness wasn't coming for him.

With grave eyes, Natalia watched him complete this internal custom, and when he at last turned back to her, there was a big grin plastered across his face. "Well, we made progress today!" he said cheerily. "We're still awesome."

"You sound like Gilbert," Natalia muttered, shaking her head and turning southwest.

Alfred stepped to her side. "Sometimes the man knows what he's talking about," he said mischievously, and he grinned at Natalia's eyeroll.

Her hand found his once more, and he tangled his fingers in hers, taking comfort in the contact. Human touch was reassuring after the unreality of the day, the unreality that accompanied every battle he fought. Her cool hands calmed him.

Together, they left that place of bloodshed behind, though as always, they were only heading for more.

I remember learning how the world went to hell.

Of course, I can't be too sure about how biased those accounts may have been, so I'll just give you the basic details.

You see, there were a lot of important things happening as the twenty-first century dragged on and advanced toward the twenty-second. But the two most relevant, the ones that would change the world for the worse, were globalization and the sciences of genetics and psychology. The former meant that people were starting to get up-in-arms about preserving culture and national identity; the latter meant that we were advancing in knowledge at an amazingly fast rate. Now, this last wasn't a bad thing in and of itself, but history's already taught us that humans have the tendency to abuse whatever power they obtain.

So, globalization. They called themselves the Homelanders, and they were the strongest voices that spoke out against the kind of world integration that meant losing individual culture and identity. Interestingly enough, they were a hugely international movement, encompassing many nations, and even more interesting, the movement was strongest in the Americas - the melting pots of the world, where multiculturalism and the tendency to assimilate were greatest.

On the other side of the coin was scientific experimentation. Like something out of a thriller or science fiction novel, scientists were looking to improve the physical and mental condition of the human - and they were doing it sponsored by world governments. Oh, it was on willing individuals - usually soldiers and the terminally ill - but that didn't make it any less dangerous. It was, in part, for the betterment of humanity, but it also constituted an attempt to create the perfect soldier, the perfect human. Cultivating physical strength and endurance while seeking to unlock the true potential of the human mind... well, let's just say they succeeded far more than they intended.

Within due time, some of the experiments seemed to be working. The creatures that emerged from them were human in nature and appearance, but they were stronger, faster, and more intelligent, capable of acts thoroughly inhuman. Bolstered by these successes, various governments invited more people to submit themselves to the process, and word of what was going on began to leak to the general public.

The Homelanders took a stance against it all, and the world seemed to be divided, half for and half against. Despite the controversy, it was a time of fierce intellectualism and progressive scientific advancements the likes of which the world had never seen. The entire world seemed to be charged, so much that the period was eventually and somewhat ironically called the Second Renaissance. It was named, in part, after the experimentations, which had been dubbed Project Renaissance.

A betterment of humanity. A more perfect human. This was what the Project sought and perhaps that was why it was named such. It altered the very makeup of the human being, in both cell and brain. Stronger, speedier, more resilient, with advanced intelligence and widely expanded mental capability unlocked by rigorous psychological testing... a near-perfect individual emerged. A dangerous individual.

The Project was spreading. Gaining both fame and infamy. An estimated seven million people received enhancement treatment of some sort, and many of these were the world's rich, elite... the world's leaders. And those who were subjected to the Project were given access to physical training and extensive knowledge - anything they needed to become masterful humans, to become perfect.

All of this proved to be the greatest downfall.

Because the experiments damaged the mind. Basic human instincts of love, companionship, and restraint were slowly stripped away; inhibitions and morals were lost. In short, madness. And when these results began to show, it was already too late to stop it.

Those who received a more 'common' treatment - and such a distinction already existed - were the ones who devolved first and fastest. They became base, feral creatures, whose sole purposes were to feast on other humans or to 'convert' them to the same state of mind and body. For the physical experiments did damage as well. Such bodies were nearly impossible to kill or maim, but that was against outside attack. The bodies themselves became their own worst enemy, beginning to peel and rot and burn as cells went haywire. But by this time, the Project subjects were beyond feeling pain, and this only contributed to their madness.

Now, those who received the 'best' treatment were much slower to give in to insanity... but they all did, eventually. However, they still clung to bits and pieces of their minds - the parts that made them dangerously efficient and intelligent. Enough that they could gather their 'brethren' and wage war on the rest of humanity. They were the ones who prompted their 'common brethren' not to eat every human they came across, but to save some to 'convert' - with the intent of building an army. The afflicted may have been insane, but they still had understanding of concepts like 'similar' and 'community'. They were able to recognize their own and band together, and under their 'elite', they swept across the world in a bloodbath of terror.

The armored jeep was parked in an area much the same as the one that Natalia and Alfred had just spent the last half-day clearing. It was dry here, with little greenery to be seen, and that was, in part, from the land's current inhabitants. They had a method of killing everything they touched.

"Your timing sucks!" a raucous voice called out as the duo approached, and a white-haired man grinned at them from atop the jeep, hoisting his beer into the air. Despite the color of his hair, his face was actually quite youthful, as all their faces were and had been for too long. No - there was nothing aged about Gilbert Beilschmidt; his hair and gleaming red eyes had only to do with the crazy genetic attempts of bygone decades, which had sought to introduce unnatural colors to the human body, much the same as Natalia's hair. "We've been waiting on you slow-ass people!"

"Oh, yeah, totally," Alfred quipped, flashing a grin up at their fellow team member. "I can see y'all are really busy here, raring to go."

In a smooth, swinging motion, Gilbert leapt down from the jeep's roof, landing with perfect balance and a solid thud. He didn't spill a drop of his beer. "Clearly," said the man, shaking his head. "Man, it's so boring around here! Can't even move 'til HQ gives the okay." He 'hmphed' at this, his opinion of HQ and their orders plainly visible. "That's right, give that damned Mad Baron plenty of time to realize we're coming." He growled in frustration and finally deigned to look them over. "Alfred, you look like shit."

"Really, Gil… what an amazingly insightful observation," snarked another voice, as a blonde head emerged from within the jeep's interior, poking out of the back doors. "You ought to win a medal."

"Shaddup, ya Brit," Gilbert said breezily. "When're we moving?"

"As soon as you get your arses in here," Arthur said impatiently.

With a hoot of excitement, Gilbert approached the jeep with the air of a returning king and slid into the passenger's seat; everyone else had learned long ago that it was ultimately futile to call shotgun. Alfred and Natalia headed for the rear of the jeep, and Arthur pushed the doors open for them, offering a hand to pull them both in.

The interior more resembled a high-tech lab and arsenal than the inside of a vehicle. It was their control center, Matthew's domain. He served as their liaison, their living and personal HQ that kept them connected with the main one - driving the vehicle, working the technology within to keep them safe and in contact with each other, and coordinating with the other teams scattered throughout the area. There were two computers and their systems hooked up within, powered by the mechanics of the jeep itself, not to mention a store of weapons, ammunition, and food. A great deal of that store was also strapped to the roof, along with various other necessities.

The jeep functioned as a tiny home away from home, carrying them wherever they needed to go and keeping them fed and armed to the teeth. Alfred had affectionately named her Amelia.

Inside were the remaining members of the team. Matthew was fiddling with one of the computers, absorbed in his task. Reclined next to him on one of the benches was Francis Bonnefoy, a Frenchman and Arthur's partner. It was something of a mystery as to why the two of them had been paired up in the first place - they spent roughly ninety percent of the time fighting with each other, and it was a wonder that they ever got anything done. But they were an extremely effective duo, for all their arguing, and somehow it worked.

Opposite of Francis was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, Gilbert's Spaniard partner. He was potentially the most laid-back person Alfred had ever met - besides Alfred himself, of course - and he never, ever seemed to get upset over anything. And naturally, this was entirely deceiving, as the huge axe that rested at his side testified. One could almost feel sorry for the zombies on the receiving end of his wrath.

That made seven of them altogether. A team. Team Awesome, as Gilbert called them, though HQ refused to refer to them as such and only labeled them as Team 2A. Alfred was inclined to agree with Gil, though. Team Awesome suited them much better.

"Ouch," Alfred said, wincing as he sat down beside Antonio. "Where's the damn med kit?"

As Arthur handed it to Natalia, Antonio gave Alfred a sympathetic eye, indicating his bloodied clothing. "That bad?"

"Kinda a rough fight," Alfred said evasively, as Natalia rummaged through the kit, much larger than the one they carried in their emergency packs. "Just want to make sure I'm healing properly."

"How many did you take down, anyway?" Matthew asked, lifting his head and giving Alfred a concerned once-over.

Alfred grimaced. "Ah... 'bout forty."

That stole everyone's attention. "Forty?" Francis asked, his eyes widening. "Mon Dieu, you must have hit an entire pack and more."

To Alfred's grateful surprise, Natalia spoke up and did not mention the fact that Alfred had killed at least thirty of those zombies all in one attack. "We did," she said with a nod. "A rough fight, but we managed."

The others gave an appreciative murmur, and Alfred met Natalia's eyes and tried to convey in his glance alone how much he loved her.

He was pretty sure she got the message as she started reexamining the wounds and cleaning and re-bandaging them where necessary. As she did so, Matthew returned to his computer for a few moments, logging the new data, and then spoke up again. His tone had changed; it was anticipatory, almost nervous. "Next stop isn't just a regular sweep," he said. "A Mad Baron's up ahead."

Once again, the attention of the entire team was caught, and it took a moment to sink in. A Mad Baron. Their enemy. The reason that taking land back from the enemy was so difficult. "Finally," Antonio murmured, and his fingers fell to absently stroking the handle of the axe at his side. "It's been too long since the last one, si?"

There had been one in Canada, two in the United States. This made the fourth one that they would confront, and as a rule, Mad Barons were only confronted by multiple teams. That was how dangerous they were. How hard to get to. How challenging, Alfred thought eagerly.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Gilbert demanded. He was backwards in his seat, draped over its back and watching them all like a cat. "We're behind everyone else! I don't want to be late to the party!"

In response, Matthew climbed over the front seat and into the driver's position. With a few deft motions, he revved the vehicle up and glanced back at the rest of his team. "Ready?" he asked, with a small, tight smile.

Alfred, who'd once again obtained the canteen containing Yao's tea-and-whiskey mix, raised it in a toast. "Hell yeah!" he said, and this was echoed by the others, who were all settling down for the ride.

They sped off across Mexico's now-barren lands, and Alfred, despite all of his loud protests to the contrary, did take that precious quiet time to rest and recover, content for the moment in the fact that his team was fine, he was fine, and Natalia was beside him.

Now, I know what you're thinking. The rest of humanity should have been able to fight back, right? But the problem was that too many world leaders and important figures had undergone experimentation. Now they turned against their own people, waging war on the sane and forcibly taking many into their fold.

Parts of the world were completely thrown into ruins and chaos. But in what I can only say was an unusual twist of fate, North America had been the source of the fiercest resistance against Project Renaissance. The Project hadn't been nearly as prominent there, and as such, the continent was spared some of the terrible severity of the invasion and destruction that overtook the rest of the world.

So North America was where humanity made its stand. In attempt to salvage what was left before it was completely gone, certain brave souls held bastions in North America against the insane, the veritable zombies. Most of the remnants of humanity's sane made their way there, helped along by the fiercest fighters that the world had to offer, and it was there that they made their war.

It was bloody, to say the least. Out of the world's population of over ten billion, well over half of that was dead. Close to a third was driven to madness, and what remained mostly ended up in the havens of North America and pockets in Europe. Salvaging all the technology and weaponry that they could, humanity held what they could of the North American continent against the wave... until at last it subsided.

A grueling new age began, divided between the sane and the insane, with the odds heavily in the latter's favor. But humanity is forever persistent, and those who were left carved something out of the destruction for themselves. Many who survived had been members of the Homelander movement, and in the disarray they took charge. Eventually, individual territories in North America's free soil developed. Each was meant to represent and contain people of various former nations. This was a last-ditch effort to preserved humanity's endangered cultures, and it actually worked. Soon, half of North America was free, in the control of the sane and divided into makeshift 'nations' until the entire world could once again be reclaimed.

Which was way easier said than done. The 'zombies', as their street name ran, were stronger and faster than the average human, despite their rotting makeup, and they were led by incredibly intelligent and cruel Mad Barons - the name given to the 'elite' among them.

They were organized and ready to take that last part of the world not under the sway of madness. Humanity's sane could not hope to make any headway against them; not only could the zombies rip a normal human in two, but they could inject a poison, either through extensive biting, kissing, or rape - a poison that infected the cells, made a human like them, and after long years, killed that human. That was what the zombies did to the humans they wanted to 'convert'. And as for the rest... well, with the weapons and technology that humanity's sane had, though still advanced and basically functioning, they could only hold their territory.

Where that all changed... well, that's where I come in.

The Mad Baron's lair, for lack of a better term, was located in what was left of Mexico City. Not that it was even recognizable any more. None of the country was. The zombies had taken a leaf out of old Russia's book and employed a scorched earth technique, razing and ravaging the land and taking a step further by keeping it poisoned and dead. They'd done the same to the lower half of the United States and upper parts of Canada as well, and though those places were firmly in the hands of humans now, it would take many years for them to truly heal.

The rest of the teams were located a mile outside of Mexico City, and when Matthew parked near the temporary base that had been set up, Alfred's team was ushered with all haste into the main gathering.

"You're late," Ivan Braginski told Alfred smugly, glancing at the team as they approached.

There were several dozens of 'nations' here - the majority, if not all, of the main force. Altogether, they numbered halfway between one hundred and two hundred fighters. It didn't seem like a lot when one considered how many zombies infested the world, but there was a distinct difference between a nation - a successful experimentation - and a zombie - a failed one.

A nation was easily worth twenty heavily armed soldiers. They were as impossible to kill as the zombies, perhaps even more so, and immune to the zombies' poison. They were smarter, sturdier, and functioned better as a unit. They went for the head first, while zombies primarily wanted to feast, and they'd spent days upon days upon months doing nothing but training.

An army bred to kill the living dead. That was what they were.

"We are not late," Alfred replied huffily. "You're all just early."

He gazed out over the mingling crowd of superhumans as several members of his team blended themselves with the crowd. Natalia had begun fussing over her brother Ivan, much to the large man's displeasure, and Antonio was chattering to a none-too-happy-looking Lovino Vargas, while Gilbert clapped his brother, Ludwig, on the shoulder and recounted the awesome deeds he'd done that day.

Seeing Matthew strike up a conversation with Yekaterina, Natalia's sister, Alfred smiled to himself. It was good to be back among the others, even if they were gathered for war. They were the most mismatched, dysfunctional family possible, driven together by necessity and chance and violence, but they were still a family nonetheless.

Even if a family that made up the most dangerous army in existence.

After a few minutes, the planning commenced, now that everyone had arrived. It went quickly - they'd done this three times before, and they had some of the best commanders possible. Arthur served as his team's leader - no one questioned his authority in that matter, though he and Alfred tended to clash over many things. He met with the other team leaders to get the general layout of the attack, while everyone else was filled in on the logistics of the city and the estimated number of zombies within.

"Okay," Arthur said, as he returned from the central group, and his team gathered around him. He had several maps in hand. "We're going to be attacking after Ludwig's team forces a path through the outer circle. They want us to have a straight shot through to the inner circle of defense, since the zombies will be concentrated most heavily there, and our team is best qualified to take down larger numbers. It won't be possible to drive in, so we're going to have to take what we can carry."

Arthur spread the maps out on the ground and demonstrated exactly where they'd be entering. He finished with explaining their positions. "Alfred, Natalia, Francis, and I will go first. Antonio, Gilbert, and Matthew will bring up the rear and watch our backs. Any problems or questions?"

There were none, of course. Arthur hadn't gotten to be leader because he lacked skill in formulating plans.

Gilbert heaved a sigh. "So we're gonna have to wait," he said sourly. "Awesome. Just what I love doing."

Things were pretty desperate when I stepped up to the plate.

Arthur was totally against it, at first. He's my brother - well, in name if not in blood. It's a long and complicating story, but it's pretty common in the territories. All I can tell you is that I was an orphan, and Arthur took me in. He even left his own English territory to come to my American one, and when we found my actual brother in the Canadian territory… well, I'll tell you that story another time.

Anyway, there were scientists who'd been working nonstop to discover the problems within the original Project Renaissance. And when they swore to Heaven that they'd found the solution… the idea of trying it again was proposed. Of course, it met so much resistance that it's a wonder the plan didn't just die right then and there. But like I said, desperate. We needed a way to fight the zombies and overcome them. We needed to be on equal footing.

The only reason I knew this was because Arthur held a high position in the territories. And, well… since no one else seemed to be ready to risk everything…

The zombie's head went flying, and it seemed as if five more popped up to take the felled one's place, growling and whining and hungering for flesh. Alfred growled his frustration, falling back a little lest he be overwhelmed. The things were everywhere - this place, with its crumbling buildings and hardly distinguishable landscape, was infested even worse than the three previous Mad Barons' hideouts had been. Every foot gained was fought for dearly, and it was only the beginning of the inner circle of zombies!

Natalia was on his left, slicing through the creatures, and Francis was at his right, engaged in close combat with a particularly tricky monster. The Frenchman was nimble, which allowed him to escape being gutted by the wily creature, but neither could he move in close enough to take its head. This must've been one of the smarter ones. In fact, all of the zombies did seem to be getting progressively more intelligent.

While that made things harder, it was also reassuring. They were making headway, despite the slow progress; they were getting closer to the one that mattered, the one whose takedown would ensure that the rest of them devolved into mindless chaos instead of organized resistance.

Alfred was about to move in to assist, but Arthur, who'd fallen slightly behind them, was faster. The Englishman was wielding a classic, archaic weapon - a bow and arrows, but personally modified to suit him and their enemy. The ends of the arrows were tipped in paralyzing poison, which unfortunately wouldn't kill the zombies... but it would slow them down enough to make them easier targets.

An arrow buried itself in the back of Francis's little problem. The zombie snarled, now torn between two enemies, and the poison set to work. As the creature's muscles began to twitch and its movements became clumsier, Francis elegantly stepped forward and swept his sword up and around, neatly taking off its head.

"Saved your arse again, you bloody frog!" Arthur called triumphantly. "That puts me in the lead!"

"Ohoho, not for long, you pretentious Englishman!" Francis trilled back. "You can't hope to win today! I will crush you!"

That was how the two of them fought - constantly bickering and having ridiculous contests, insulting each other back and forth, and yet vigilantly guarding each other's backs. How that worked, Alfred had no idea, but he shook his head as he fell back behind Natalia, letting her cover him for a moment as he took a small breather and assessed the situation.

It wasn't exactly favorable. They'd breached in the most opportune area, from which it was a straight shot to where the Mad Baron was projected to be hiding, but it was overflowing with zombies. It wouldn't be possible to break through with just combat. They'd need something big. Something powerful. Something explosive.

"Can you cover me a bit longer?" he called to Natalia, and she nodded.

Trusting her judgment, Alfred turned away from the main body of the enemy. The other three members of his team were further behind, spread out and guarding the rear, taking down any who circled or got past. Alfred angled straight for Gilbert, who was in between Antonio and Matthew and who seemed to be having a blast.

"Yo!" Alfred called, grimacing as a bit of flesh went flying past him. He swung his machete and casually beheaded the zombie that Gilbert was currently concentrated on. As the corpse collapsed, Gilbert turned to Alfred in righteous outrage.

"That was my kill!" Gilbert said indignantly.

"Well, you got more important things to worry about," Alfred told him. "Think you can blow this place up?"

Gilbert's eyes immediately lit up. "Fuck yeah I can!" he said. "I brought everything I could with me." He grinned fiercely. "Just tell me when and where."

I'd never seen Arthur look so angry before, and that was including every single time he and I had quarreled.

I suppose it had something to do with the fact that Matthew and I both confronted him now, neither of us backing down even though Arthur could be damn near terrifying when he wanted. He was glaring at us, imposing his body between us and the experimentation center as if he thought to physically stop us from entering. And he could, if he chose. He was a lot stronger than he looked.

Which was why we had to convince him. Why we needed him with us on this.

"We're set on this, Arthur," said Matthew - my twin brother, my best friend. The way he said 'we' almost made me smile. I'd seized upon a daring, reckless thought and volunteered for this, and as soon as he'd found out, Matthew had done the same. He wasn't about to let me do this on my own, and it hadn't taken me long to realize that I couldn't deter him from following me. "This is our choice. We're practically grown now."

"But you're still under my care, dammit!" Arthur snapped. "I refuse to allow it!"

"What we do with our lives isn't under your control!" I returned, with much the same anger. Between myself and my brother, I wasn't exactly the calm one. Mattie must have inherited all of the reasonable tendencies. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't some game! This is big! Life-changing! No one else is gonna do it, so we might as well!"

Arthur took a deep, calming breath; his eyes were pained. "Alfred," he said slowly, restraint clearly evident in his tone and posture. "You're right. This isn't a game. It's your life - your sanity. Don't let a desire to be a hero ruin that. Don't-"

"It's not about that!" I said, bristling, even though I couldn't deny to myself that there were visions of being just that in my head. When I'd been younger, listening to Arthur's stories, I'd become convinced that I was going to be a hero someday. That hadn't exactly changed. "This is about the world! Or haven't you noticed that it needs help?"

I was painfully aware of the audience we now had. Mattie and I had come to this place against Arthur's wishes, even though the scientists here could do nothing to us without Arthur's permission. We'd wanted to know more about the process, maybe something that could convince Arthur of its safety, but our guardian had found us too quickly, before we'd even set a foot inside.

And now those same men we'd been coming to meet were watching us, watching this little family argument. It didn't make for the most comfortable of atmospheres.

Matthew spoke up again, before Arthur could. "We just want to help," he said, as calm as ever. "We want to do something to fix the world. Even if it means risking our own lives. Because Al is right - no one else is going to do it. And I don't blame them. But that just means that we need to step up." He fixed Arthur with a shrewd look. "You would do the same if you didn't feel obligated to us. I know you would."

Arthur was scowling now. He never spoke about his past, but I knew he must've been part of something that made him a fighter. Maybe a cop or a soldier - whatever he'd been, it had gained him a high place in this new world order. Enough that he knew perfectly well what we were proposing entailed. Enough that he was scared to death of letting us try. Not that he'd admit it.

"Yeah," I said, my voice warming with enthusiasm. "You can't pretend that you don't want to help. I know you do, Arthur!" He was surprised at that - usually I called him Artie or Iggy, depending on how much I wanted to annoy him. "And you can't do that by just sitting around! And neither can we! You raised us better than that. Can't you see what you've done with us? But now that we actually have a chance to do something, to show you, you're going to try to hold us back?"

Arthur's eyes had closed. He seemed to be struggling internally, wrestling with conflicting natures, and Matthew and I waited with sick anticipation gnawing at us. An uncomfortable silence dragged on.

"We legally become adults in a few months," Matthew murmured, breaking it.

Arthur's eyes snapped open, furious. But instead of yelling at us, he turned on his heel and marched over to the knot of scientists gathered near the door, who'd been watching us argue as if they were watching a sports match or television show. The one at their head, Dr. Robert Mayner, was officially in charge of the entire project, and Arthur headed straight for that one. With hardly a spared glance for anything approaching social nicety, Arthur reached out and gripped the man by his collar, drawing him close and glaring at him in such a way that drew attention away from the fact that he was two inches shorter than Mayner.

"How safe?" Arthur growled, as Matthew and I watched in awe.

Mayner was grimacing at the position he'd been put in, but he was wise enough to cooperate. "Perfectly," he replied firmly. "It will work. I'll stake my life on it."

"Good," Arthur said shortly. "Because if anything happens to them, I'll personally empty a cartridge into your brain."

The threat ringing, Arthur let go of Mayner and took a step back, unconsciously smoothing his clothes. "Well, gentlemen," he said to the scientists, as smoothly as if he had not just threatened their boss's life - and by extension, their own lives as well. "It looks like you will have three test subjects, then."

"Three?" I exclaimed. "You-"

"I should not even be called a man if I let you do this alone, much less your guardian," Arthur said irritably. "This is my one condition: that everything be performed on me first and given a certain amount of time before being performed on you. Can that be done?" He shot this last question at Mayner, who nodded, looking rather pale.

"Deal," I said, and I couldn't help the little grin that stole across my face. Truth be told, I hadn't been expecting to win, even though a few months would put us legally outside of Arthur's control. I'd been expecting him to hold on to us with all of his formidable willpower, because he had a hard time letting go, and his refusal to let us do many things had been a point of contention between us several times in the past.

But he'd given in. He'd listened. He'd trusted us.

... Or maybe not trusted us, I thought, as Matthew and I came forward, and Matthew thanked him. Arthur's face was anxious behind his thorny, snarky mask, and I saw it because I knew him. But he didn't know the extent of what I could see, and so I kept up my breezy, self-confident act, because I knew it reassured him.

The flames were raging and roiling behind them, and the smell of burned flesh permeated the air, rancid and disgusting. It was with this backdrop that they ran through a wide road that was temporarily clear. The explosives had taken care of a great deal of zombies; it would be at least a few moments before any more came.

"Damn!" Gilbert exclaimed, from somewhere behind Alfred. "Did ya see that? That was perfection, that was."

"I think you may have overdone it a little, mi amigo," Antonio said with a laugh. "That won't be easy to put out."

"So? It'll keep 'em off our asses."

A moment later, the team jerked to a halt, and one of Arthur's arrows slammed into the face of a zombie that appeared ahead of them, in the ruins of a shadowed building. More and more zombies began to appear, flooding forward out of the large, decrepit structure.

"What about the ones in our faces, eh?" Matthew asked, slinging his machine gun off his shoulder and delivering a spray of bullets to the zombies in the lead, who were getting too close.

"Still got a few grenades left!"

"Well, use them!" Arthur ordered.

On unspoken agreement, those in the lead veered to the side as Gilbert, grinning, withdrew one of his grenades and pulled the pin, tossing it perfectly. The dilapidated building groaned, and those zombies just emerging from its depths were blasted back; it was into this smoky chaos that Alfred's team darted through.

Unfortunately, in the darkness of the inner depths of the building, they only encountered more.

"They just... keep... coming!" Alfred growled, punctuating each word with a decapitation as his team pushed their way forward, flashlights in hand. They were damn lucky that zombies were slower and stupider than them, else this would have been becoming a huge problem. But it was manageable, and it told him that they were definitely close. Otherwise, the stream of zombies wouldn't have been so thick. Alfred didn't doubt that this building was the Mad Baron's hideout.

It didn't need to be spoken. All of them knew he was somewhere in this building.

A group of zombies attacked all at once, shrieking. At least six descended on Natalia, and with a growl, Alfred stepped up to her side and evened the odds. Three for her, three for him. They disposed of the creatures quickly, slashing and slicing efficiently, and at last a lull came in the wave.

For a moment, everything was silent, and Alfred could hear more shrieking in the distance, the sounds of battle. Good. That meant the other teams were reaching the building as well. He could hear Matthew coordinating quietly and rapidly over walkie-talkie, but the adrenaline was pumping through him so much that he could barely bring himself to understand what was being said.

"The center, he's somewhere in the center," Matthew was saying. "We need to angle southeast."

"Are you sure about that?" Francis's voice was worried.

Matthew frowned. "HQ orders. Why?"

"Because there are no more coming," Francis said grimly.

No one moved or spoke, and that was when they realized that an eerie silence had fallen. No more zombies approached from the darkness. None could be heard even remotely close.

"Shit!" Arthur swore, ripping his own gun off his shoulder and cocking it. "He's-"

Alfred felt hands latch on to him, and suddenly he was flying.

"We also volunteer!"

I'll never forget the way she said that - striding into the lobby as if she owned it, her silvery hair swaying with her proud gait and her voice imperious and not to be questioned. Her name was Natalia Arlovskaya, and I'd had something of a rivalry with her and her brother, Ivan Braginski, ever since we'd met. But mostly her brother. She entered with him and their sister - a sweet girl by the name of Yekaterina Braginskaya, whom Matthew had the slightest crush on, I knew. The three of them made quite the sight as they entered.

Things were about to get underway. After Arthur's consent had finally been given, the scientists had set to feverish work to prepare the process. Matthew, Arthur, and I had been subjected to hours of exhausting talk that I'd barely been able to pay attention to, but I think I got the gist of things. Mostly. Science isn't exactly my forte.

And now this interruption, mere hours before we were supposed to begin the first tests. It was pretty obvious why they were here. Ivan was regarding me in that creepy way of his, calm but intense, and Natalia was just glaring, like she always did. Yekaterina, however, looked resignedly concerned as she clutched at a manila folder. She was the oldest among them, and I wondered if she'd been put in the same position as Arthur.

Their family was kind of like ours - separated and eventually rejoined, which explained the different surnames. Although, they were all blood-related and vaguely Russian - or, at least, from the Russian territory. Or something. It wasn't the most accurate of summaries, but nationalities are hard to remember, okay?

"This is hardly orthodox," Mayner began, starting forward, but Ivan cut him off.

"You need as many as possible, da?" the boy said softly, reasonably. "If you are to combat the enemy, you will need as many soldiers as you can lay hands on. Why not accept them when they offer themselves freely?"

"You are children-"

"I am nineteen years of age," Ivan said smoothly. "A legal adult. My younger sister is eighteen, and my older sister is twenty-two. She also counts as our guardian. I do not see the problem."

As if to emphasize this, Yekaterina stepped forward, offering the folder in her hands to Mayner. He took it and glanced through it briefly, enough to confirm to himself that Ivan's words were truth. Yekaterina nodded when he looked up.

"I give permission," she said softly. "We want to help."

Mayner's eyes softened. He seemed to be thinking hard for a moment, but he returned the nod. "Thank you," he said gratefully. "I'll have to run these papers through the main system to get you cleared, but we'll set you up soon enough. And I promise, you will be perfectly safe."

Yekaterina did not respond, only stepped back to her siblings, and all of a sudden, life resumed. Like that, there were six test subjects instead of three, and I blinked in surprise at the suddenness of it all. Especially because these newcomers were people I knew. People I hung out with, although I was hesitant to call them 'friends'. Even though Natalia...

"So," I said, striding up to her in much the same way as she'd entered the lab, "think you're gonna outdo me, huh?"

She huffed and stepped nearer to her brother, as if to show how much she vastly preferred him over me. "I can not let you all volunteer for this while I do nothing," she said haughtily. "Brother was in agreement."

Ivan didn't look too pleased at having his sister sidle so close to him. She had some sort of freaky fixation on him and was extremely loyal and devoted to him, almost to the point of obsession. However, he liked the fact of me being near her even less.

"You absolutely cannot outdo us," he told me with an unpleasant smile. "We can't let you have all the fun, da?"

I returned the smile with an edge. "Guess we'll have to be working together, then."

I'm sure Matthew was pleased about that. He'd already approached Yekaterina, them making up the saner of us four, and as I caught sight of him out the corner of my eye, chatting with her easily, I had to fight to repress a visible scowl. How come he was so good at talking to his crush, when I...

I cut that thought off before it could grow and pointedly avoided looking at Natalia. In my desperation to avoid my own thoughts, I noticed that Arthur had approached Mayner again.

"The condition applies to those children as well," Arthur was saying quietly - more of an order, really. "You will still experiment on me first."

As Mayner nodded, I saw Ivan's eyes narrow. The larger boy took a step around me and approached Arthur, rivaling the Englishman for height. "We do not need you looking after us, Mr. Kirkland," Ivan said flatly, confronting the older man. "Your help isn't wanted or necessary."

"To be frank, I don't care what you do or do not want," Arthur returned, iron authority lacing his tone. "You are hardly above minor status, and I have an obligation as an older adult." Arthur smiled then - a faint thing, mostly sarcastic and lacking humor. "But if you'd like to stop me, go ahead and try."

For a moment, they stared each other down - and then Ivan smiled as well and relaxed the smallest bit. He inclined his head to Arthur. "I will not try to stop you, then," he said. "I know I would only meet with impossible stubbornness. After all, you raised that one back there." He didn't even need to indicate to whom he was referring. I wondered if I should have been offended or not.

"I'm glad to see that we're on the same page, then," Arthur said. "You'll need to be up-to-date on the process..."

Oh, no. I was not about to listen to that crap all over again. It had taken days to do it just once. I took a step back and nearly collided with Natalia, who'd stepped forward to join her brother and sister, called by Arthur and Mayner. My hasty attempts at apology went unheeded; she simply glared at me and stepped past, to her brother's side.

I heaved a sigh. This was going to be interesting.

Alfred hit the stone wall so hard that whiteness exploded in his vision, and when it finally cleared, he was slumped on the floor, dizzy and disoriented. There was lots of shouting and loud noises, and it only served to throw him off even more, but he was conscious of the fact that a very pretty woman knelt beside him. Natalia. Her actions toward him were almost frantic, and he found himself reaching for her, to reassure her. "'m alright," he said, blinking several times. His head was starting to ache.

Only one thing could have thrown him with that much force: the Mad Baron. It was here in the room with them; he could hear his teammates fighting it. And it was smart. It had gone for the strongest of them first, trying to take Alfred out, and Alfred felt his blood boiling just at the prospect.

As if he'd let a fucking zombie take him down.

"No!" Natalia said, trying to push Alfred back as he climbed to his feet. "You're hurt..."

"I'm fine," he said, catching her hands, giving her a lopsided grin. His head was still spinning and aching, and he didn't feel well at all, but little things like that wouldn't hamper him. "Seriously, I want a piece of this guy. Help me kick his ass?"

Natalia glared at him but after a moment let him rise, and Alfred automatically reached down to his side for his weapon, only to find nothing. Shit, he must have dropped it when the thing attacked! But a moment later, Natalia held the machete out for him.

"You are amazing," he told her sincerely, but she simply shook her head and turned around.

The rest of the team had formed a semicircle around the two of them, keeping the Mad Baron from getting through. Alfred took a long look at the thing: it hadn't progressed to the stages of rotting that the lesser zombies had, although its skin was still mottled and peeling. It was faster and stronger than the others, and intelligent malice gleamed in its dead eyes. A dangerous enemy, clearly intent on destroying Alfred's team.

No one tried to kill Alfred's team.

Antonio was going toe-to-toe with the creature, wielding his great axe like a master and swearing at it in rapid Spanish. With a mighty swing, he forced the thing back towards Gilbert, who had his broadsword out now. Cackling, Gilbert attacked it with a vengeance, and Alfred stepped up to Arthur's side, watching warily.

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked. His bow lay to the side; four arrows protruded from the creature, and they seemed to be having no effect. Judging by Matthew's frustrated face, tranquilizer darts were just as useless.

"Peachy," Alfred answered. "Thing just doesn't wanna die, does it?"

He watched as Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio worked in unison, driving it between the three of them and taunting it. But no one had landed a significant blow yet. Both sides were just too good.

"It's going to take all seven of us," Arthur said grimly.

Alfred glanced to Natalia, then Matthew, then back to Arthur. "I say," he declared, "that we use the strategy 'kill it with fire'. That happens to be a favorite of mine."

"Because you're a pyromaniac just like Gil," Arthur muttered. "Though I'm inclined to agree." He gave Alfred a dry grin. "And how do you propose we get him to stay still, o hero?"

Alfred returned the smile. "Oh, if Plan Take 'Im By Surprise doesn't work... I have a few ideas."

The physical tests were absolutely no problem. In fact, the scientists proclaimed me to be the most successful to emerge from those, and I marveled at how strong I'd gotten. I was like a superhero. A real one.

It was the psychological tests that got to me.

Now, there was no doubting that me and Mattie were twins. We'd had the DNA tests and everything. And I remembered him from when we were very little, before we'd gotten separated. Before something had happened to our mother. I could never remember what exactly that was.

Until now.

I could see her in my mind's eye. She looked different from us, with dark hair and slightly tanned skin, but I knew she was my mother. She was hiding us away, that much was obvious. She looked scared - terrified, actually - but she was calm for us, soothing us as she told us to stay where we were, to hide on the floor of the car and not to look up or move. We listened because we loved her, but we knew she was scared. We knew something bad was happening.

She'd shown us how to unlock the car door and told us to do so only after several hours had passed, when everything was quiet. She kissed us tenderly on our foreheads and told us how much she loved us, repeating it several times. Her voice was shaking. She told us to look out for each other, and then she left, locking the car behind her.

She'd ordered us not to look, and I didn't want Mattie to look. But I couldn't resist. I had to know what our mother was doing, why she'd left us in here. So I crawled forward and very cautiously lifted my head, ignoring Mattie's tiny pleas for me to stay still.

I saw her, a good distance away now, wielding a baseball bat and running among the trees. She was yelling, waving her arms at the group of marauding zombies who started to chase her. The me in my memory hadn't understood what she was doing, but I did.

She was drawing them away from us. Protecting us. Giving up her own life...

The me in my memory, confused and scared, dropped back down at once; my hand found Mattie's and held on to it for dear life. And then something not in my memory was slapping my face, drawing me violently out of it.

"Enough of this!" a sharp female voice was saying. "Can't you see it's upsetting him?"

I blinked and realized that there were tears streaming down my face; my whole body was shaking. And to my utmost surprise, Natalia was standing right there, with a hand on my shoulder. The way she was positioned was almost protective; she'd pulled me away from the machine, and now she glared at the man who was administering the tests.

The six of us undergoing testing had been split into pairs. Naturally, Matthew had gone with Yekaterina. Arthur had been paired with Ivan. Which meant I'd gotten stuck with the scary chick, Natalia, who I just happened to have a tiny little crush on. But I'd been under the impression that I greatly annoyed her - which I had to admit was partially intentional.

And now she was worried about me?

This was too confusing. My mind felt strange... big. Memories were swirling about in my brain, with a clarity of detail that should have been impossible. I felt like my whole life had just been exposed - I could remember everything. I was still shaking from the memory of my mother, and I couldn't stop thinking about how she must have died. I felt sick.

"I'm fine," I muttered, wiping at my eyes. This was so embarrassing. I couldn't believe I'd started crying with Natalia nearby. I shrugged out of her grip. "Nothing's wrong!"

She frowned at me, and the guy who'd been operating the machine, Dr. Carter, grimaced apologetically. "Bad memories?" he asked, not fooled.

Reluctantly, I nodded, and the scientist's eyes softened. "Well, we're done for today. You did great, Alfred. Wonderful."

Natalia had undergone the same tests, and she'd emerged from them as stony-faced as ever. It was only me that had started crying, like some pathetic kid. I wondered why Natalia and her siblings were orphans, if something similar had happened. I wondered if Natalia had wanted to cry, but didn't, because she was stronger than me.

"Why don't you to go the lounge?" Dr. Carter suggested. "Natalia, maybe you could get him some food?"

Great. Now they were treating me like a four-year-old. But to my surprise, Natalia nodded and seized my hand. "Hey!" I yelped, as she began to pull me out of the lab, but she didn't listen, only tugged me behind her. And she was fast - I had to almost jog to keep up, lest she pull my arm right out of its socket.

When we reached the lounge, she made me sit at the table and disappeared into the neighboring kitchen. When she returned, it was with a few bags of junk food from one of the snack cabinets. She dumped her load on the table in front of me and took a seat on the opposite side of the table, not looking at me.

I glanced down at the food. All my favorites - I suppose I made no secret of the food I liked, but still... I looked back up at her and frowned.

"Eat," she ordered me. "It will help."

Her steely blue eyes made me obey. Would she break my arm if I didn't?

However, as I worked my way through a bag of chips, conscious of the uncomfortable atmosphere, Natalia finally spoke again. "Are you better now?" she asked me, and my eyes widened in astonishment.

"Yeah," I said, after a few moments of processing this question. I mean, I knew my mother had died. It had just been a shock to actually see the events leading up to it. My mind must have repressed it, but now, things that were buried were being unlocked. Everything in my head was being unlocked. It was almost dizzying.

Natalia nodded slowly and cast her eyes away. "What happened?" she asked quietly, after several long, hesitant moments.

She looked up again when I didn't respond to find me staring in amazement. "You don't have to answer," she said, mistaking my surprise for something else.

I shrugged. "Nah, it's alright. Um... my mom... well, she died protecting me 'n Mattie from some zombies that got into the territory. I... hadn't remembered that until now."

Natalia nodded again, and this time, she didn't look away. "I'm sorry."

I managed a smile, still more shocked than I was letting on. We were having actual, civil conversation. Natalia seemed genuinely concerned. I wondered if the tests had addled my brain. "S'alright," I said offhandedly. "I've still got Mattie, and now I have Arthur. I'm happy."

"I know," said Natalia, and I frowned at the oddness of this statement. She flushed a little - actually blushed! - and turned away, scowling. "You are... very cheerful all the time."

I'd been told that many times before, usually in a way that was much less kind. I shrugged again. "Well, life's not gonna treat you any better if you frown at it," I said. It was just a personal philosophy I'd picked up, but I stuck by it. "Might as well be happy and show it who's boss."

Natalia was frowning again, but this time, it was thoughtful. She looked intensely at me for a moment, then gave a short nod and stood. She left the room abruptly, and I gazed after her, my mouth hanging slightly open where I'd previously been about to stick a chip in it.

I'd just had an actual conversation with a girl who both scared me and attracted me. I'd discussed philosophy and my past with a girl I kinda liked, a girl who'd seen me cry. I'd never even let Arthur see me cry. What was going on?

And then she'd left, just like that, before I could hardly make sense of anything. I shook my head and continued eating. Girls were so weird - especially that one, I thought fondly.

As quick as lightning, Natalia entered the fray.

With long knives flashing, she drew the Mad Baron's attention away from the three battling nations and towards herself, long enough for Matthew to signal the trio. As the creature fixated on Natalia in a rage, Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio drew back for a moment, and now it was just Natalia and the Mad Baron.

There was no fear in her eyes. She was utterly cold, and as the creature attempted to run her over, to get to the team behind her, she drove it back with expert skill, gracefully forcing it to retreat. It was now angrier than ever, snarling at her and swearing at her in several different tongues.

And then Natalia dropped her knives. Smiled challengingly, with eyes flashing. When the Mad Baron hesitated, Natalia's eyes narrowed. "Attack, if you are so strong," she said haughtily.

It lunged, and so did Alfred.

He was sneakier than he seemed. It had taken some serious doubling around to avoid being detected by the Mad Baron's excellent senses, but with it so focused on Natalia, he could attack unhindered. With a growl of, "Oh, no you don't," he latched on to the creature in much the same way that it had attacked him, sweeping his machete around for a killing blow. But the thing, despite being half-pinned by him, was wily and strong, and it managed to keep its head away from him.

"You son of a bitch!" Alfred snarled, as the machete was knocked clean from his hands. He hung on to the creature for dear life, wrestling against its immense strength and wincing as its hands scratched at him. "Kill it with fire would be appropriate now!" he hollered.

Gilbert, having been quickly brought up to date by Matthew, had been thrilled. One of the many weapons he carried was a flamethrower, though he rarely used it in the close proximity fighting that he and his team usually engaged in, for fear of injuring one of his teammates. But now...

Alfred timed it as best as he could as Gilbert strode forward eagerly, and on the white-haired man's wordless shout, Alfred released the Mad Baron with a mighty heave, kicking it straight towards Gilbert's flames. Alfred stumbled back, panting, and Natalia caught him and steadied him. Ignoring the stinging pain from all the scratching that the creature had done to him, he watched as the Mad Baron was engulfed in flames, shrieking in pain. Zombies may not have been able to feel much of anything anymore, but fire was one of the few things that still had an effect on them.

And even though it had been weakened by the fire, the damned thing was still moving and trying to attack. The job had to be finished now.

Gilbert stepped back, and the others surged forward. Matthew, Arthur, and Francis worked in perfect unison to drive the still-fighting creature into a corner, keeping it from lunging at a single one of them and potentially setting them on fire. Arthur retreated to open a path, and Antonio stepped forward, grinning broadly. As Matthew kept the creature pinned back with a spray from his machine gun, Antonio swung his axe.

The head rolled off the body, still flaming, and hit the wall.

As the Mad Baron collapsed, another silence fell, but it was no longer eerie. It was just tired and triumphant, and as Alfred opened his mouth to speak and congratulate his fellows, he heard more screeching behind him.

"Damn it all!" he swore, as he and Natalia turned and tensed, prepared to fight off yet another wave.

As it turned out, they didn't have to. The group of zombies that was emerging from the shadows was decimated from behind, and Alfred saw Ludwig, Ivan, and Lovino standing there, with Yao and Feliciano and the rest of their team behind them.

More silence, as Alfred's team stared at the newcomers, and Ludwig's team stared at the burning, decapitated body of the Mad Baron.

Then Gilbert sighed in annoyance. "Wow, what a big help," he snarked. "You guys are so fucking late."

We were perfectly matched - I was strong, she was fast, I was excitable and impulsive, she was cool and calculating. It was no wonder they kept sticking us together, even though I wasn't too sure how I felt about that. After all, Natalia was still incredibly loyal to Ivan, whom I did not get along with. Not to mention Ivan seemed to be carrying a grudge against me for increasingly catching his sister's attention, even though he never seemed to want her attention in the first place.

He needed to make up his damn mind. Seriously.

But since the two of us always seemed to get paired together, Natalia and I were training when the news reached us.

"Damn, girl," I said, shaking my head and taking a deep breath as I paused in our chase. "Could you at least let me catch ya, for once?"

Natalia set the end of the wooden staff on the ground and gave me a rare smile. "That isn't the point of this exercise," she said. "How do you hope to kill a zombie when you can't even catch a woman?"

I lunged with my own staff, and she sidestepped again. She had the gift of speed, which worked greatly to her advantage. There were limits to strength, and this was one of them. I'd have to think less like myself and more like her. Or Mattie. Or Arthur. Or anyone who took a moment to think with their head, as opposed to my usual style of punch first, ask questions later.

So I let her hit me. The staff stung, but it brought her within a closer range and left her open for one vital moment. I swung my staff again, but not to strike - to trap. I wrapped it around her body, drawing her close and cornering her against me.

"Gotcha," I said in satisfaction.

She smiled up at me. Smiling again. She must've been in an unusually good mood today. "Good," she said. "Now keep me."

She elbowed me in the stomach. She hadn't lost her grip on her own staff, either, and drove it into my foot with precision. It hurt, and as she angled the staff up, entangling it with my own, I let go suddenly, throwing her off balance.

"Gotcha again!" I crowed like a child and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into a bear hug and giggling. I must've temporarily lost my mind, but fortunately for me, she didn't try to break any of my bones. In fact, she seemed surprised, and I was, too, when I realized what I'd done.

"Um... sorry!" I said and hastily let her go. She didn't answer and instead turned around to gaze at me oddly, so much so that I felt a flush creeping into my cheeks.

I'd acted like an idiot, just because I thought we seemed to be getting along better. Well, I always acted like an idiot, but this time I'd overstepped boundaries I'd set for myself. I liked her, sure, but I wasn't going to act on it unless she wanted me to. And she never would, so...

... I was completely and utterly surprised when she took two steps forward, grabbed my shirt, pulled me in, and kissed me.

I froze in shock, but only for a moment. It felt so good that all the tension and surprise left my body, and I relaxed into it, slowly bringing a hand up to her hair. When she broke it, I kept my hand there and smiled hesitantly.

"That was unexpected," I said with a nervous laugh.

She wasn't smiling anymore, but neither did her face look forbidding. Gently, she took my hand, the one that was still in her hair, and lowered it, and I pulled it away with a nod. "Uh," I said, but she didn't speak. Instead, she stepped away and calmly made herself look busy with her staff, as the door of the gym opened, and Matthew stuck his head in.

As it turned out, it was huge news.

Mayner got all six of us assembled in the lounge. He seemed to be excited, his eyes shining with whatever news he had, and he delivered it to us without preamble.

The higher-ups had devised a plan. It was inspired by us, actually, since we all technically came from different 'nationalities'. The experiments were working flawlessly and had been dubbed a success as of right now. A greenlight had been given to expand the program, but it would only progress in a certain way.

"One from each territory," Mayner said. "A representative of each former nation, if you will, given that name as a title. That will give us a substantial number, but not too dangerous an amount... the higher-ups don't want a potential fiasco if we change too many. It will also ensure total equality among the territories."

"So, wait..." I said, working my mind around this concept. "Does that mean we're...?"

Mayner nodded. "For example," he said, gazing directly at me, "you, Alfred, will also be America. You will assume the responsibility of the people in your territory... your people. You will be their contribution to this war."

I thought about this and nodded slowly. America. Me. That... was so cool. Like Captain America, only real.

Mayner looked to each of the others, bestowing upon them the same naming, the same fate. Arthur was England. Matthew was Canada. Natalia was Belarus. Yekaterina was Ukraine. Ivan was Russia.

"And there will be many more coming, soon," Mayner told them. "We've already sent scouts to all of the territories, and we should have a few coming in tomorrow."

Arthur was nodding, though he had a scowl on his face. "Francis has already agreed to represent France," he told us - though he told Matthew more than anything. Matthew had lived with Francis for time, before Arthur and I had found him and Matthew had chosen to live with us. He was the other member of our little family, even though he and Arthur could hardly stand each other most days. Francis also served a high position in the inter-territorial government that the various territories had formed and did a lot of traveling and mediating between them. "He'll be here tomorrow morning."

Talk was starting now, questions being posed to Mayner and Arthur as we tried to figure out exactly what this entailed. It was, in effect, the slow building of an army - a small one, but a superhuman one, to combat the daily threat to humanity that had come so close to wiping us all out. It was a risky plan altogether, but with the way Mayner described the projected setup, with various teams to be put together and the grid pattern that would advance us into zombie territory and the routes we would take to at first secure North America... it sounded like we had a chance. A fighting chance. It might take years, but there was already suspicion that our aging had been slowed, much the same as the zombies didn't age. If that were the case, we'd have plenty of time to retake the world.

Throughout this discussion, I kept stealing glances at Natalia and saw that she was doing the same. Today's events were starting to make me feel giddy. First her and her surprisingly forward actions, now this world-changing news... and here I was at the center of it. I had a real, growing purpose in my life. The girl I liked potentially liked me back. I was going to fight zombies soon.

I grinned at her and showed life exactly how I felt about that.

Mexico City was behind them now. It had been completely cleared of zombies; after the death of the Mad Baron, the teams had systematically hunted down and wiped out every single monster still standing. It was a huge gain, a huge victory. The regular army could move in after they left and hold it against further invasion. They could start to rebuild, help the land start to heal.

The rest of Mexico and Central America lay before them. And after that, South America. Then after... the rest of the world, Alfred supposed.

He sighed. It was gonna take forever. Shaking his head, he glanced back and let his gaze travel up and past the hill. He couldn't see the outline of the city from here, but he knew it was there, past the encampment that the nations had made.

He hadn't gotten a chance to while there, so he did now, as he once more turned his eyes forward - silently apologizing for every death he had caused. Monsters they may have been, but they'd once been human too. They'd only been altered past the point of sanity - and he knew the same could have easily happened to him. Could easily happen to him.

Really. His kind and theirs weren't so different. All that separated them was the measure of sanity, and that was, as most things, a subjective human standard.

Natalia's hand touched his shoulder, briefly, to let him know she was there. She had come up behind him while he stood gazing out across the land they'd soon be crossing, a brooding expression on his face, and now he looked down at her to find her watching him thoughtfully.

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

She hardly looked different from when they'd been teenagers verging on adulthood. His appearance was virtually the same, too, as was the appearance of every single nation that had been created during that time.

He couldn't be sure, but it was almost as if their aging had been enormously slowed or stopped altogether.

And if that truly was the case... then they had all the time in the world to save it.

He grinned at her. "Nothing," he answered truthfully. "Just thinkin'."

"You?" she asked, in some amusement.

He gave a mock gasp. "Oh, that hurts, Bela. That hurts right in the feelings."

She smiled softly at him, and he leaned down to kiss her, just because he could. Honestly, when he thought about it... he couldn't be happier. Some might have said it was unnatural to feel happy in such a situation - faced with an enormous task, with nothing but killing in his future and in his past - but that wasn't what mattered.

What mattered was that he had this beautiful woman who loved him. He had his family with him, and he could protect them. He had his team, his friends. He had a purpose, and the more he tested his own mind, the more it seemed that he didn't have the madness. At least, not compared to the monsters they'd faced today.

"Oh, look how mushy and disgusting. Isn't that just cute?"

Gil's mocking voice was approaching, and Alfred broke away to glance over his shoulder, a wide grin on his face. The rest of the team was advancing down the hill's gentle incline, obviously coming to find the two of them.

"It's romantic," Antonio said cheerily. "I never would have thought either of you had it in you. I'm so proud, amigos!"

"Indeed romantic." Francis gave them a suggestive grin. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind letting me in on some of the fun?"

"Hell no, you perv," Alfred snorted, as Natalia rolled her eyes.

As he approached, Arthur scowled in Francis's general direction, as was his custom. Then he fixed his attention on Natalia and Alfred. "We just got the order to move out tomorrow morning," he informed them. "We might as well make the best of today."

"We were thinking of doing a bonfire," Matthew clarified. "And we could really use your help getting some wood."

Alfred moaned. "Oh, you're gonna make me do work? You cruel, cruel people."

"It's not like we're asking you to move boulders!" Arthur snapped, looking irritated. "Pull your weight!"

Alfred scoffed. "Excuse me? You aren't the one who got near scratched to death by Señor Zombie earlier!"

"But you are the one who recklessly volunteered for that job in the first place!" Arthur returned.

"'Cause it's not like you could've done it anyway!"

"I'll have you know...!"

"Guys!" Matthew burst out, looking pained. He dealt with this more often than he liked. "Please, stop fighting. Can't we just relax for today?"

The two bickering brothers subsided with a few grumbles, and Alfred reluctantly agreed to help look for wood and carry it. As the seven of them began ranging out over the hilly landscape, aiming for the scraggly trees here and there, he walked hand in hand with Natalia, not caring that Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio were sniggering nearby and making their usual comments. Let them. He was just glad they were all alive, and if they got too annoying, Natalia could easily scare them.

Alfred paused for a moment, listening to the trio's laughter, to Arthur and Matthew quietly discussing business nearby, and finally looking at Natalia, who halted and gazed back at him rather curiously.

Alfred grinned, shook his head to let her know that he was just thinking again, and that was when he heard Antonio's warning shout.

He whipped around to see a sizable pack of zombies lumbering towards them, their mouths gaping and slavering, and their eyes gleaming with madness. No words needed to be exchanged amongst the team; they immediately began to fall into position, hefting the weapons they always carried with them on principle and resigning themselves to another fight.

Alfred sighed, slipping his machete from its sheath, and he gave Natalia a wry look. "Never gonna catch a break, are we?"

"No," she said honestly, already wielding her weapon.

Well - that was their lives, really. Alfred shook his head in resignation, allowed himself to smile, and leapt forward with her, ready to spill some blood.

"Don't want to hear about it. Every single one's got a story to tell. Everyone knows about it, from the Queen of England to the hounds of hell."