Disclaimer: Hetalia is (c) Himaruya Hidekaz. This is just fanfiction.

Warnings: Alternate universe (AU), use of human names for characters that have them, violence, infrequent coarse language.

A/N: Believe me when I say I have almost no idea as to what's going on in my own mind? Then again, it's not like this sort of thing is really new to me… (Eventual Greece/Japan, and possibly Asian-family!centric as well. Various other characters/pairings may or may not appear, depending on how things go.)

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Scene Zero
One

Blowing into his hands and rubbing them together, Kiku straightened up as the sky before him darkened with each passing second. Had it been any other day, he would have taken the time to appreciate the scenery before him, the mishmash of colours a wondrous sight, completely unobscured by the buildings below thanks to his position.

Instead, he flexed his fingers experimentally, looking past the view, while the communicator latched to his belt buzzed an incoming call. The possibility of ignoring it was toyed with, briefly, even as he pressed a button to accept it. Static flowed for a moment, before a familiar voice filtered through;

"-frequency is as good as it'll ever get- Hey, Kiku, can you hear us?" Despite the fact that they were all aware of how dire the situation was, it seemed the person on the other end refused to be burdened by it. Somehow, it was a trait Kiku could not help but envy at times.

"Yes, it's rather quiet out here." Too quiet, even, was what he wanted to add; four hours had passed since his decision to take a position on the rooftop (on a building whose contents he cared little of) and it was as if the world below had died. A reality that had forgotten all about him, leaving him in a place that did not truly exist in either state of mind… Kiku shoved the thoughts away, to be scrutinised at a later date; "I haven't seen anything remotely suspicious, either."

"You sure? I swear, there was a high level of disturbance at-"

"Yong Soo, you were just supposed to check to see if it works. I'll take it from here, aru."

There was the sound of scuffling, followed by a sharp crack as the communicator on the other end hit the floor, causing Kiku to wince. It was a strange feeling, to hear their voices from somewhere above, as if he was eavesdropping on them.

"But Yao-!"

"Don't argue with me; you have to keep an eye on Hong Kong's position. Last thing we need is to lose him as well."

"Wha-?" The question sprang from Kiku unbidden, though he knew no one could hear him. He resisted the urge to yell; sound travelled far, after all, and past experience had taught him never to underestimate his surroundings (even so high up, one could never tell if they really were alone or not).

Static filled his ears before stopping abruptly, before Yao spoke up; "So you're absolutely certain nothing suspicious has been sighted, aru?" His voice was as calm as ever, Kiku noted, though he was sure the Chinese man was pacing back and forth, free hand toying with the switchblade he carried for emergencies (and doubled as a substitute stress ball).

He moved as close to the edge of the building as he could, squatting as a sharp gust of wind threatened to unbalance him; it seemed to take a hold of the scarf he wore, whipping it upwards, as if it had a life of its own. Kiku bit his lip as he considered his reply, "The scanner picked up some hiccups in the atmosphere, but they happened consistently, so I am positive they are nothing to be concerned over. But… has anything happened on your side?"

"Hm?" Yao hummed back, question enough to stop him in his tracks, if not solely out of confusion, "Ah, you would have heard that, of course. No, we haven't lost anyone yet; I was referring to a sudden power outage two hours back, aru, though it was completely out of our control. Then again, Vietnam's position still has me worried." A somewhat bitter laugh cut through at this, preventing Kiku from replying as the other continued, "This is ridiculous. The entire concept is ridiculous and we're trapped like flies, Kiku."

"They did transfer us rather abruptly," he agreed, attempting to keep his voice level, even as the laughter continued on the other side, "and were intentionally vague as to their reasons why."

"Yes, I've been thinking about that, aru. Might have to ask Thailand if he has any time to pay them a visit in the near future-…"

Kiku shook his head, despite knowing that it would go unseen, "For now, we should focus on the actual problem at hand; they will still be there, but a single mistake on our side could end in our deaths."

There was no reply to his words, though the laughter had finally stopped. Somewhere, far off in the distance, Kiku was almost certain he could hear the tap-tap-tapping of some unidentifiable object, and unconsciously reached for his kunai.

"… I wonder if the family was cursed like this," Yao eventually mused, conversationally, "Really, who wants to die because of such things-" He was cut off abruptly with an undignified yelp.

"Kiku, we've got a distorted reading in your vicinity," Yong Soo said, even as the tapping sound of his keyboarding overrode Yao's talk of people's manners lacking.

Standing up, kunai cold in his hand, Kiku could only look out to a building in the distance; "I see it." What had started out to be a suspicious haze, as it seemed to consume the top of the area, had already begun to fluctuate: unnatural sparks formed a rough circle in the sky, while the small reading device latched to his belt buzzed insistently, rising in pitch with each passing second. There was no need for him to check it to know what it said.

"Looks like a Level One, so you shouldn't have any problems with it. But Viet's got a Level Four in formation, so-…"

"Understood. Moving out." With a click, Kiku clipped the transmitter back onto his belt, even as he took a couple of steps back from the edge. He closed his eyes for a moment, to clear his mind of all unnecessary thought, and took a deep breath, air cold in his lungs.

The sparks had connected, a crackle in an otherwise quiet night, illuminating the darkness that surrounded them; Kiku opened his eyes, watching the spectral before him for a moment longer before he made a running leap once he reached the edge of the building.

Calculations and instinct honed over the years came into play as he managed to land on the adjacent building, blessed by a generally still night. He did not stop, though, finding a rhythm as he leapt from building to building, gaining speed as the bizarre excuse of a portal loomed before him.

It was impossible to ignore the noises that filled his ears now; the crackling of electricity (or something incredibly close to it), and low murmurs that were not quite human, yet could not be brushed away as animalistic.

As he made the final jump to where his target was located – vaulting neatly over a huge signboard – Kiku's eyes sought through the huge circle of distortion that stretched out before him, catching sight of a single, clawed hand groping the flat surface before it.

The kunai slammed into it, as he landed mere inches from where the distortion began. Ignoring the unseen force that attempted to drag him in, Kiku reached back for his katana, even as the hand ripped backwards into safety, blood spilling as the kunai remained lodged in the concrete surface. A part of him might have felt sympathy for such a reckless move, but as another dark shape seemed to spill out of the distortion, he focused on that instead.

He knew he only had seconds before the creature before him became accustomed to the atmosphere, and took not time to slash into it. As it reeled back, he twisted, using the flat of his blade to urge it back from where it had come from; an inhumane shriek filled his ears, as something sharp raked his outstretched arm before the creature was sucked back in. Kiku bit his lip at the sharp jolt of pain that resulted in the action, as his eyes caught hold of a separate distortion right before him.

With his uninjured arm, he reached for another kunai as a face materialised before him. Dark eyes stared back at him, pale face framed by shoulder length hair, even as clawed hands groped for a solid hold before it.

It gave a shriek of pain, perhaps a curse in its language, when he brought the kunai down between its eyes. While clawed hands instantly moved towards its face, Kiku pulled back, stepping to the side as blood spilled onto the ground and the creature retreated.

Other, smaller shapes had materialised out of his range – almost like balloons above his head, though clawed feet and scaly wings said so much – but Kiku chose to ignore them. It would not be long before more attempted to step out, possibly enough to overwhelm him, so he took the chance to locate the item that had acted as a catalyst in opening the portal before him.

It was in the temporary lull that he became aware of the communicator once more, and he bit his lip, resisting the urge to snap into it; "What is it?"

"Ignore the Level One, aru. You're needed at Level Four's location; move it!"

The urgency in Yao's tone (alongside the change of orders) could only mean one thing, though Kiku could only mutter a vague apology in reply. He could not ignore his initial mission, after all, and it was not like it would take long for him to clean up either, as he nudged the pearl-like object he had just come across.

He could see more shapes trying to get across, and in such situations, formalities could be ignored; taking only a moment to wipe away the excess blood on his hands to make sure his grip remained steady, Kiku raised the katana over his head.

As soon as the point of the blade made direct contact with the pearl, the effects were instantaneous: the space around him seemed to fluctuate violently, as everything within its vicinity was sucked in. Kiku kept the katana buried point-first in the ground, resisting the pull, as he reached back for one of the many paper charms he carried with him.

When the world seemed to right itself at an instant – charm burnt through the centre – Kiku could only re-sheath his katana and apply pressure to his injured arm. Leaving the scene of chaos, with only a brief reminder to self to return afterwards, Kiku sought out the quickest route back to ground level. It did not take him long to realise it was impossible, though, as he instead peered below to check for window ledges while he calculated the distance.

Wasn't it suicidal with only one hand, though?

Even as the thought occurred to him, it was a split second too late as he swung down, the rush of air almost a comfort to him (in a way, a reminder of when he had been younger). A brief notion that he was about to die from jumping off a twelve storey building was forced out of his mind as he managed to grasp onto an open ledge.

It was a brief respite, though, as his fingers slid, the momentum too much for him to stop, and he was plummeting once more. The possible thought of fuck it may have happened then and there – though Kiku would never admit it out loud – as he reverted to the next possible option in his current circumstances. The question as to whether or not his grappling hook could manage it was hard to say, though it was not like he had many choices left.

So the fact that he didn't break any bones, upon literally crashing into an open dumpster, was nothing short of a miracle; the pain that jolted through him, however, might have said otherwise. Kiku did his best to ignore it as he jumped over the side, though his legs gave way and he allowed himself a moment to just sit there, forcing the air into his lungs.

The reading device was in clear overdrive, rising to a tinny pitch that indicated readings over its capacity. As he created a makeshift bandage with the aid of his shirt, Kiku opened communication lines once more.

"There's too much disruption here; I need a guide-"

"Why aren't you there already-?!" It came as no surprise that the device was wrestled out of Yao's grip.

"You aren't too far from it, though I suppose all the wailing isn't helping any," Yong Soo's voice held a certain forced calm that alerted Kiku at an instant; "Just get yourself back to the main road and I'll tell you where to go from there."

"What's going on?" he shot back, even as he stood up and, after lurching forward unsteadily for a moment, picked up the pace when his balance returned, "Isn't Hong Kong closer to Vietnam's location? Even if it is a Four…"

"Already sent him over, but it's not enough." The tap of keys filled the static between lines as Kiku twisted around a bin someone had left in the centre of the alleyway.

"What do you mea-"

"You're looking at a Level Seven."

Kiku almost forgot to stop walking before he hit the main road itself, while cars continued to zoom pass, oblivious to the destruction above and around them; "A- what?"

"No time to explain; just go the way I tell you to." Yong Soo replied shortly.

The urge to snap back almost had Kiku reply to the Korean, even though he knew it was a stupidly immature move. Yet the directions that flowed through, in what was practically a laundry list, forced his concentration elsewhere; Yong Soo was not one to repeat himself in these situations, after all.

He knew he was close when he felt the jerk of his limbs, an unnatural urge to be pulled into something he had yet to see, accompanied by the almost animalistic screams that filled the air. A couple of passer-bys stared at him – though there was an almost glassy look in their eyes, as they contemplated the sudden urge to walk to someplace they knew nothing of – but he ignored them, opting to turn into another alleyway.

Deeper in, as darkness was penetrated by both unnatural and artificial light, Kiku was greeted by a sight he knew he would never get used to on a personal level.

The portal was almost indiscernible from its surroundings, though the distortion present (the irresistible pull) was stronger, much more than his dealings with the one of the rooftop. The shift of movement to his side caused Kiku to turn, catching sight of Hong Kong as he wiped a torn sleeve across his face, broken tonfa in hand.

A quick, sweeping glance of the battlefield, at the still bodies that lay on the ground in bloody pools, he almost believed that Vietnam had already fallen. Then one of the forms on the ground stirred, pushing itself up slowly, before lurching forward with uncanny speed.

The crack of a gunshot managed to slice over the screams, as Vietnam stumbled out from behind the shattered remains of what had probably been scaffolding for the building she used to support herself. At the reassurance that she was, in some way, still alive was enough to galvanise Kiku back into action, even as Hong waved a hand at him, discarding the useless remains of his tonfa.

Tossing the younger teen a kunai in reply, Kiku unsheathed his katana once more before he pushed forward, each step calculated so that he could not stumble into it, that which wanted to drag him in. Overhead, down, the side- It was an almost mechanical process, as the majority of creatures already out in the open had been dealt with by Vietnam; she had done a thorough job, save for the finishing blow.

Yet he could see more making their way through the thin strip of distortion – a blink of the eyes and it would vanish, slipping in and out of existence – and even with back-up, if they did not close the gate soon, they would be overwhelmed. And if that were to happen, the authorities would-…

Claws dug into his leg, one creature attempting to drag him down through sheer force; through the sharp pain (the horrible suspicion that it would shatter his bones in time) Kiku managed to stab downwards, using his free leg to try and kick it away. His injured leg gave way, though, and he clenched his teeth.

So close, so close and yet… They had made little progress. It was not their job to fight whatever came from the other side, after all, but to stop it all together.

"Hong Kong, move back!" His throat was dry, as they danced before death's door, and he would not have been surprised if all the younger teen managed was a blank, uncomprehending look in reply. Kiku could only hope that he would listen, though, even as his hands clasped around the explosive latched to his belt.

Yong Soo had said it was still in its testing stages, a prototype that needed adjustments, and yet Kiku could not help but take it with him; just in case. But to use it at point blank range was clearly suicide and yet-

"Kiku, what are you-?" The rest of Vietnam's demand was cut short as Kiku yanked the pin and threw the object.

It exploded upon impact, throwing everyone within its range back with a force that knocked their breath away. Even as flames licked at anything it could reach, wayward sparks crept along the ground, honing in on something no one could see, even if they had been in any condition to do so.

In the silence that followed – though not really, as the crackle of fire continued to surround them, not yet a complete threat – one could almost believe they heard something break; a tinkle of fine china hitting the ground. And like that, the pulling force that had been coaxing them into an unseen world vanished, a clear sign that Test Subject X-318 had been a success in what it had been created for.

Kiku never had a chance to stand up, back aching from being thrown into the nearest wall, before Vietnam jumped on him; bloody hands grabbed part of his shirt and scarf as she shook him violently.

"What were you thinking, Kiku?" She demanded harshly, and he could see the cuts on her face, the slashes on her arms and- how was she even conscious? "That was- You're not the rash one, otherwise they'd have never allowed you to do the fieldwork! How can you even-"

She stopped abruptly, hacking violently as she turned away. One hand let go as she covered her mouth, even as Hong Kong stumbled towards them both. Giving Kiku an unreadable look, he took a hold of Vietnam's other hand and untangled them from the folds of Kiku's clothes, even as he reached for something on his belt.

There was a click, "Yong Soo, call for an ambulance."

The Korean obviously replied in the positive as Hong Kong shoved the communicator away while Kiku eased himself back up. Once he was completely certain his injured leg was not about to give up on him, he took Vietnam's other hand – allowed her to glare at him (because, really, he had no way to defend himself over such a stupid action) – and the pair helped her to stand up.

Without another word, the trio left the scene of chaos, where corpses lay, surrounded by flames. Of things that were not quite human, yet were completely aware of their actions, from a place they knew nothing about: a nightmare they had lived with their entire lives, in which they would have to return to later.

But they had completed their task for the night; for now, they could pretend it did not exist at all.