the knife buried itself in Germany's body, and he fell with no noise but a quiet gasp, and the world whirled as one to face the perpetrator, and with a sick, calm smile, he began to speak

There's a lot of things you can blame this on.

It's not as though I had a normal childhood. From the moment I could speak – far earlier than normal, even for you –, I was a warrior. I am not your kind. I am not a nation, I am the Teutonic Knights, and I fought with a wild, passionate glee that none could stand against. Each scar on my body is another spirit that my sword tore from its body– and I loved it with every last bloodthirsty bone in my body. But I was happy, in my gory youth. I loved the battlefield, the shouts and gunshots and the smell of carnage, every maneuver and attack I planned that sent the enemy flying to Hades at a dead sprint. I was happy. The only way my childhood hurt me was when it was taken away.

their stares were confused and shocked, their words frozen in their throats, the only noise besides his voice Italy's quiet sobs over the body

And then came those words, 'formally proclaim the dissolution of the Prussia', the most devastating I had ever heard. And then there was Russia. Yes, you can also thank that inhuman for what I'm going to do today. Those years living as his slave, his punching bag, gnawed at my spirit and chipped away my sanity. But I wasn't quite there yet. I was too strong to fall like that. I was too great to die. And so I lived on, and instead of my body, I lost my mind…

and he shrugged off his shirt and turned and showed them the scars, the welts, sliced open again and again, and when he turned they saw the worst of it, the scars in his eyes

But really, all that you have to blame is yourselves.

You forgot me. You left me.

You never really looked further, did you? I am so much more than you thought. Have any of you heard my fierce glee as I fight? Have you seen how I can devastate? You never saw a warrior. It makes me laugh, that had any of you looked you would've seen this coming…

and now they did look, and saw that he was laughing, horrible, twisted, insane hysterics shaking his body, until, abruptly, he stopped laughing and began to speak again

You have never seen anything.

You never looked. You care only for yourselves. You are not human. You do not deserve to call yourselves that which you strive so hard to be…

Watch the endless circles, my friends, watch the keys and the gears turn, watch the levers and the steam, the chains and the knives, the cries of children as bridges burn, watch what you have never seen. I am not the first to end like this, out of your carelessness, but I will be the last. I do this for them. Watch my sword, my friends, flaming with justice and rage, let my smile be the last thing you see. That is why I am telling you the stories of Vishnu in my brain, throwing off his chains and blankets to roar his fury...

his mouth was not moving anymore, but his eyes screamed words made of fire, "You hark to my words, all you sinners and non-believers, you children of the mud! I will rise, and you will see my anger, my rage, what none has dreamed of in his darkest nightmare; the earth will split open and out will crawl my people, and you will see how little I need you, how I have thrived without you! You will see how twisted and cruel a smile can become, you will see fire climb out of the earth, you will feel wild, raw, beautiful terror consume your chest and strip you to the animal at your core. So many times you have beaten me down, but now my time comes and I rise again, you will see the fires of hell unleashed in all their fury on the people of the earth, and – hark to me – you will see what godless creatures you have become!"

That is why you are all going to die.

By that time someone had come to his senses and made a dash for the door, and desparately shook the handles in a futile attempt to unlock them, throwing terrified glances back at his misshapen, cruel smile. And then the knife buried itself in the nation's back, and the second of many fell. Then there was chaos and screaming, and his knives slashing away life after life, until they were all dead and the only sound was his manical, wild laugh and his last words before he slid the knife across his own throat,

That is why you are all dead.