They said that if the first mode player and the second mode player were to do the exact same thing, at the exact same time... Unnatural events, mis-shaping the timelines and the fabric of existence, even if for only a moment, would occur. However, none have actually succeeded in doing so; it is labeled as a myth. A myth, in which, is all too real.

SECOND EARTH; Washington D.C.

This would be all to easy. Al knew that. He examined his bat, admiring every nail, every bloodstain. It told a history, a history of war and hate that is as old as he is. Which, compared to most countries, wasn't very. The country he was to interrogate was rather... Easily spooked. All he'd have to do is ask her, and she'd probably start flooding tears. What a crybaby. He merely chuckled, staring at the door for a while. Well, there was no time better than now to enter, hmm? He'd get info on that disgusting commie, one way or another. Even if that meant destroying his info-giver at the end. He didn't care.

He wasn't going to lose, that's all.

He pushed the steel door open without any trouble at all, flooding in light from the hallway to the otherwise dark, cold room. For a minute, if he looked down, he could see the steely gray tiles that seemed to have footprints of blood.

However, his eyes weren't on the floor. They were on the girl in pink, gagged, and tied to a chair. The girl was already crying. Hmm. Oh well. Maybe he should let her whiny tears subside, so that hopefully he could get some sort of information out of her. He didn't want to deal with a crying bitch. The aforementioned crying girl struggled against her bonds, pulling and tugging in anyway she could. He could even hear the faint cry of 'Brother!' from underneath the gag. Cute. He merely chuckled, pulling out his bat. That shut her up quickly.

"Now, toots. Let's think about this. If your brother was really goin' to spend the time and effort to save you, do you think he would have waited until now? Nope. He's not comin'. Just you an' me, doll." He spoke the word doll, as if it were an insult, and the girl began to shake with tears. He shut the door behind him, flooding the room in darkness. However, in the same moment, he flipped the switch to the lights, giving off a faint glow to illuminate the metal, bland room. Dry blood spattered around the room scarcely, as the girl looks around in obvious horror, beginning to try and scream. Ugh. Newbies.

"Listen, Belarus. I'm not plannin' on hurtin' ya, but if you keep screamin' like a bitch; I'm gonna have to put you down like one." He scowled, walking towards her as she froze. She was terrified. Finally, he pulled off the gag, merely chuckling as she flinched at his touch.

"You know, you're kinda cute when you're not squirmin'." He chuckled, a hand caressing her face as Belarus turned her head, whimpering. "Please... Leave me alone, Al. B-Brother will-"

"Brother? Brother isn't coming. If he was coming, he'd've saved you by now. Are you really that naive? He isn't going to save you every time. Now. On the topic of brother..." Now he got to use his bat. Yes. Pulling it out, he gave some light taps to both her shoulders- to which she winced. "What do you know about his developments in the scientific field?" She paused, looking at him.

"... W-What...?"

"What do you know about Russia's experimen-!" A bright, white, light filled the room, some sort of force blasting the American back, much like a bomb. He fell backwards, hitting the wall with a thud. A... Bomb? What? He had her checked for that, there was no way she could have... There were more important things than that right now. He was blind.

He can't see.

Blinking heavily, he now noted a difference from the girl he was interrogating, to the girl who's in the chair now. It definitely looked like Belarus just... A different dress? He stared at the girl, who stared right back, a bewildered look on her face as she examined the room. Whatever. A change of dress didn't mean much. Suddenly, he felt her eyes on him, almost boring through him.

If looks could kill... Albert F. Jones would be dead. "Who are you." She hissed simply, barking at him whilst tied up. Honestly, the sites a bit ironic. He holds back a chuckle, quirking his brow.

"You're not in a place to fight back. Now, I want to know how you got Belarus out of that chair, and you're in it." He moved up from the floor, stalking up to her as she merely stared. What the hell...? This girl was nothing like Belarus. She must be some sort of decoy? Pretty smart of the Belarusian princess he knew, actually. "There are babies more scary than you. Stop trying to threaten. It is funny."

What. He scowled, looking at her. Did she actually just...? That was heavily insulting. He scoffed at her, delivering a casual blow to her right shoulder. She merely winced, and spat in his face.

"I would not rat out brate to trash like you." She hissed, squirming in the ropes. A low rumble left his chest, furrowing his brows in befuddlement. Belarus wasn't like this, he knew that. The Natalya he knew wasn't... Wasn't as rugged. Finally, he leaned in, catching the scent of Belarusian Bread on her breath, and feeling the hate scorning through her deep, cold, violet eyes, which were locked on his own.

"Who are you, exactly?"

"I am Belarus. You do not act like the stupid American who was interrogating me earlier. Whilst you are still inferior, you are less ridiculous. I can respect that. Who are you?"

"..." So, this girl was being interrogated? Earlier? An American? Questions flooded through his mind, before deciding, well, whatever. "America."

She shook her head, looking at him with a pointed frown. "Lies. You look similar, yes. But you are not." Look similar? Last he checked, he was the only god damned America this planet had.

"Well, it goes both fucking ways, Miss-" Before he could even begin to finish, he heard the sound of a cut rope falling. Fuck. Her arms were free. Instantly, she grasped his head and knocked it against hers, hitting both heads pretty hard. He groaned in pain, before immediately grabbing her by the throat.

"Hh... A fighter, hmm? Cute... Belarus. Well, since you don't know about.. Ah... Viktor, I guess I'd let you go." He spoke, and immediately, she started to undo her own bonds, with a knife. Ah. So thats how she freed her hands.

"But I've got to let a cutie like you go to prison for attacking a nation. Sorry, bitch." He chuckled, before simply stepping away as she tried to slash at him. "You cannot keep me captive, manchild." She hissed, as he chuckled.

"Uh huh. Sure. Later, toots. Gotta make a call. Don't move."

He had a Belarusian beauty to keep captive. Exiting the room, he pulled out his cell. "Hey, ah, Matt? Come in for a sec. Need some more man power to bring this bitch down." There was a pause for a second. He was certain that his brother thought he was weak.

"Dude, the fuck. Belarus isn't fucking Lithuania or anyth-"

"Shit happened. You'll see once you come down. Just stop guarding the entrance. Got to put her behind bars."

"... Whatever. Coming." Matt hung up, leaving the American to think outside the door.

There was no way this girl was Belarus. But... Who in the hell was she?

A/N: Hey! Hope you liked, and a hope I didn't butcher 2p!America's personality. Or Matts. But anyways, please comment and tell me what you think? Perhaps guess future events if you wanna? ;P It'll probably take a while to get the second chapter out, but I know it'll probably be done by this weekend. Stay tuned! Here's a little sneak peak for next chapter:

"... I'm a dead man." The American sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair. Perhaps it wasn't too late to release her and have her not tell her brother? Ugh. U G H. He wasn't really looking forward to it. The only real reason he agreed to interrogate was because his boss said she'd be tied down, shackled, and if anyone else did it they'd truly enrage her.

"Well, here goes nothing..." Alfred F. Jones is a dead man walking.